Prologue
Kennedy
What happened? Pain consumes my entire body, my limbs are hard to move, and all I want to do is close my eyes and drift away. My heavy eyelids close with ease.
Wake up. A voice calls, echoing loudly through my mind. Sucking air into my lungs, I gasp at the pungent smell of gasoline that fills my nostrils. My mind is hazy, my thoughts swirling, and nothing makes sense.
Twisting, I realize I can’t move. The seat belt digging into my flesh painfully, holding me in place. Though my gaze is blurry, I can make out the form of my best friend. Her slender body sprawled through the shattered windshield, partially lying on the hood of the car. No! Her face is covered in blood, coming from large gashes on her forehead.
Bile rises in my throat, making me gag.
“Jillian…” I call out. My voice so raspy, I barely recognize it as my own.
She doesn’t move. Her shirt is soaked in red, and my entire body starts to shake. “Jillian, wake up!” Using every ounce of strength I have, I reach for her. Stretching my body painfully, trying to get to her, but my fingers wrap around nothing but air.
Sirens sound off in the distance, someone is coming to save us. Jillian is going to be okay, she has to be. Staring at her lifeless body, I feel something warm dripping down my face.
Blood. Lifting a hand, I touch the side of my face, running my fingers along the deep gash on my cheek. I’m bleeding, but I don’t care. I’m not even scared for myself, but I am terrified for Jillian.
“Jillian! Wake up. Please, wake up. Help is coming,” I beg, my lips trembling, and my words slurring. Tears slip down my face as I wait for help to get here.
The closer the sirens get, the further I feel myself slipping away again. It’s like my entire body is being wrapped in a blanket. Suddenly, the pain in my limbs drifts away until my whole body goes numb. I can’t feel anything, can’t make sense of the noises surrounding me. I can’t see anything besides my best friend. Her lifeless eyes staring back at me, and her beautiful face ashen.
I think footsteps approach, lights, and sirens blur through the quiet night. But all I can do is stare. Watch. Wishing that it was me…
That I was the one dead.
1
Jackson
Three days have passed since I found out Kennedy was here at Blackthorn. The blood in my veins turns to ice at the mere thought of her. Her presence is a constant reminder of the night I lost my sister and how much my family has suffered.
Why is she here?
I clench my fist around air, envisioning her throat being in my grasp. The hate I feel for her is all-consuming. It should terrify me. The things I’ve thought of doing to her should rattle me to the bones, but it doesn’t.
Staring at the entrance to the bookstore, I try to act as if I’m not looking for someone. It took me hours to calm myself enough to get to this point. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. All I know is revenge, anger, and hate are burning through me, threatening to take over any rational thinking.
Grinding my teeth hard enough to crack them, I watch as she walks out of the school bookstore. It’s like seeing a ghost, but when I blink, she is still there. I’d seen her walking across campus, smiling, happy, alive. That was much more than my sister had. She was in the cold, dark ground. No future, no smile. She was part of the earth, and now it’s time for Kennedy to pay. She got a slap on her wrist for what happened that night, but I would make sure that she got a real punishment.
My pulse spikes, excitement coating my insides. Now’s the time to pounce. As soon as she turns the corner and starts down the alleyway between the two buildings, I move. My feet make little sound as I rush toward her.
She should be smarter, pay closer attention to her surroundings. Then again, she probably wasn’t expecting me. I wonder briefly if she knew I was here. If I was part of her choice in coming here.
The first thing to hit me as I get closer to her is her scent. It wafts into my nose, filling my head with memories of a girl I used to love, used to crave. My lip curls in disgust, and I want to punch myself in the cock for thinking about her that way. But such an emotion is impossible to turn off. Even after all this time, she still smells the same, like jasmine and vanilla.
Forget it. Forget her.
Pushing everything but the hate down, I drown myself in the anger and reach for her. My fingers digging into her shoulder. The pads of my fingers burn where I touch her. A gasp escapes her lips as I force her to turn to face me. When I push her back against the brick wall, I become mesmerized, watching as the air expels from her chest.
She’s nothing but a bug, a useless tiny bug, and I’m going to squish her.
“Either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish… tell me, which one is it?” I cock my head to the side, examining her shocked features.
Her pink lips part and her hazel eyes widen with confusion, then recognition, and finally fear. It’s been years since I saw her last, but as far as I can tell, she looks the same, everything but her hair that is. Her heart-shaped face is framed by long blonde hair. It’s a far cry from the chocolate brown she used to be, but I like it better. It makes it easier for me to see her as the killer and less like the girl I used to love. Then it hits me. Is she trying to hide?
My gaze drifts from her lips and over to the scar that mars the right side of her face, the skin is raised and a soft pink, that’s faded tremendously over time. With a bit of makeup, it’s barely noticeable, but I know it’s there. I will never forget.
Even with the scar, her beauty is indescribable. She still looks like a goddamn angel sent from heaven. Which I hate more than anything. The thought ignites my anger for her further, and like a match meeting gasoline, I explode. I don’t even think as my hand wraps around her delicate throat.
Her pulse thunders under my grip, but she doesn’t make an effort to fight me off or run away. I make note of how strange that is but push the thought away before it can latch onto my subconscious. Focusing all my attention on her, I visualize how easy it would be to give her the same fate my sister had been given. Burning rage simmers just beneath the surface, and I squeeze tighter, ignoring her whimper and the fear pooling in her eyes. What kind of person does it make me if I want to watch the life fade from her eyes?
Good? Evil? Bad? I haven’t decided yet. See, I wasn’t always like this. I used to love Kennedy, but now I’d rather watch her drown. While my sister had died that night, Kennedy was able to cover up the single scar she’d been given. Studying her closer, I notice the slight tremble of her body and enjoy that I’m causing her so much fear.
Backed into a corner with nowhere to go, I smile cruelly down at her. I’m a good foot taller than her, not that height matters. Trapped in my web, I could do whatever I wanted to her. She’d never be able to fight me off. If I wanted to break her open and see what’s inside, I could. At the thought, my grip on her tightens, my fingers digging into her flesh.
“Jackson…” She gasps but doesn’t make a move to fight me off.
Narrowing my gaze to her face, I inspect her as if I could figure her out with a single look. Maybe I can use having her here to my advantage. I can make her suffer, make sure that my sister gets the revenge she deserves.