Page 67 of Sinister Legacy
I’ve lived this unfulfilled, safe life for a long time. So, I don’t love Liam. What’s the problem? He’s good for me. He brings me out of my shell, forcing me to be social when it would be so simple for me to become a hermit.
And he’s safe.
Unlike King, Liam isn’t in love with me, despite what he thinks. Obsessed, maybe. But not in love.
I’m not so sure about King… The way he looks at me sometimes at school when he thinks I’m unaware… And the fact that I want him to keep looking at me like that…
It needs to stop. I’m not someone to fall in love with.
I’m the daughter of a monster. Deep inside me, waiting and watching, lurks the same evil that runs through my father’s veins.
I’m a monster in my own right. Maybe I haven’t murdered peopleyet,but I hurt them.
I break hearts.
I use others.
I’ll do anything to put a balm on my own hurt.
“Fuck…” Liam grunts, his cock jerking at the back of my throat. I stare up at him, my mouth stuffed with his dick. At least while his cock is twitching on my tongue, I won’t question why I dreamed about the killer and the kinds of fucked up that makes me.
* * *
Glad to be rid of the heavy books, I place them in my locker. The others aren’t back from the library yet. It’s just Cassie and me. She hasn’t spoken a word to me since the game, but I can feel her watching me now while she worries her lips. She wants to say something but doesn’t know how to. Cassie has always been proud, and it’s her biggest weakness.
Surprising me, she sighs and leans her shoulder on the locker next to mine. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
I inch mine closed and look at her. Cassie has dark circles under her eyes, and her straight, red hair is up in a messy bun. Her face is absent of makeup except for a thin layer of clear lip gloss.
“I get it,” I reply. “Things have been shit lately with everything that’s going on.”
“I feel like we’re stuck in a nightmare.” Her green eyes follow a group of students walking past us.
“Me too…”
She clears her throat and brings her attention back to me before pushing off the locker. “I hope we can catch up properly when all this is over, and emotions aren’t running so high.”
Nodding softly, I watch her as she scuffs the floor with her sneakers.
“I need the bathroom.”
I let out a shaky breath when she walks off. Everything is such a mess, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m losing my best friend; I can feel it.
As I open my locker again to grab a notebook, a shadow falls over me from behind. I breathe in the addictive smell of peppermint and leather. My body responds in earnest with an insistent, warm throb that starts up between my legs. I hold my breath, and when King slides my hair away from my shoulder in plain sight, my heart kicks into overdrive.
He shifts closer, his heat pressing up against my back. “I want to fuck you against these lockers while everyone watches.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper shakily. “Someone could see.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t enjoy the thrill.” King leans in, and his soft lips brush the shell of my ear. “You proved as much when you let me fuck you in the same bed as your quarterback boyfriend.”
Vicious tingles spark between my legs. I slowly turn around and press my back against the locker. It’s a big mistake. Now I’m caught in his dark gaze that holds me hostage, and what I see in those brown orbs squeezes my heart in such a brutal vice that I’m left powerless. He trails his fingers over my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear in a deceptively gentle touch.
Looking left and right, I scan the hallway for potential witnesses. He digs his calloused fingers into my jaw. “You can play your little games with the quarterback, but we both know you belong to me. And when he’s fast asleep beside you tonight, I’ll fuck you raw in the ass until you scream my name. That’s the only time you feel alive, isn’t it? With your ass in the air and my cock in one of your tight little holes.”
I snap out of whatever trance I’m in and shove him off. “The only time you feel alive is when you inflict violence on someone else.”
With his hands in his pockets and his head tilted to the side, he’s the depiction of calm. “Not someone. You.”
