I try to keep my eyes open, but it’s hard, so hard… and then as if there is someone watching out for me, he releases me. I sag against the wall and bring a hand to my throbbing throat as air filters into my lungs again.
Tears slip down my cheeks, and fear slithers up my spine.
Jackson stands before me, his body shaking, his eyes gleaming with hate. He wants me dead, but more than anything, he wants me to suffer.
“Strangling you, though tempting, isn’t enough for me. It’s too sweet. Watching you suffer at my hand, watching you squirm and look over your shoulder in fear every day, wondering when I’ll strike next. That will be worth it. Remember, I know where you live. I know where you sleep, and I hold all the power. If I want you dead, you will be.”
His gaze roams over my body one last time, and then like a thief in the night, he turns and disappears out the front door. As soon as he’s gone, I sink to the floor and let out a painful sob. The boy I once knew is dead, and in his place stands a cruel, sinister monster. I should’ve died that night. It should’ve been me, and because it wasn’t, I’ll pay the price.
5
Jackson
I’ve become obsessed with Kennedy. I know her routine, where she goes for lunch, how much time she spends studying. I know she has no friends, which is only a little weird to me since she used to be surrounded by her peers.
Back in high school, she was popular, every girl wanted to be her friend, and every guy wanted to get into her panties… including me. Of course, I never acted on it, her being my sister’s best friend, one of the many reasons. I didn’t want to come between them, knowing how important Kennedy was to Jillian. Now I wish I had. Maybe my sister would still be alive if I did.
As I watch her more, I come to the conclusion that she lives a pretty shitty life, but she’s still living, and that’s half the problem. Lucky for her, she stuck to her word and stopped wearing makeup. I enjoy people staring at her face even though she doesn’t seem bothered by it, which pisses me off. I was hoping she would be embarrassed, worried, that she would freak out when I poured her makeup into the toilet and told her she couldn’t wear it anymore, but she surprised me when she agreed without a fight.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I stalk after Kennedy. I don’t think she notices me as I follow her to the library after her morning class. She’s completely oblivious to her surroundings. One would think that you would watch your back more if you knew someone was after you, but she must not take me seriously. She must not believe that I plan to ruin her. Jokes on her because I’m going to drive the knife of pain deep inside her still-beating heart. She won’t be able to do anything without knowing I’m watching, waiting to sink my claws into her again.
She walks through the double doors, bypassing the circular desk, heading straight to the English literature section, where she drops her backpack onto the floor and starts rummaging through the shelves.
Taking a seat at the other end of the spacious library, though still within view of her, I watch her from afar, getting a thrill out of knowing that she hasn’t noticed me yet.
It’s like a cat and mouse game we’re playing. Right now, she is a carefree mouse, scurrying about without realizing that the cat is on the prowl.
Anticipating the moment she sees me, I rub my palms over my jean-clad thighs. I look forward to the shock in her face when she sees me, knowing that I will scare her, or at the very least, make her uncomfortable. Her eyes lift, and she looks away from the bookshelf.
I’m certain any minute now, she is going to look right at me but instead, she looks elsewhere, at a guy that’s approaching her.
He’s an athlete, wearing his Blackthorn Elite football jacket with pride. He smiles at her, and I can see his beady eyes moving over the length of her body. His lips are moving, but I can’t make out what he’s saying to her.
This strange, unwanted bubble of emotion rises within me. Jealousy? Rage? Why would I be jealous of this guy? If I really wanted Kennedy, I could have her. I could take from her and she wouldn’t even tell me no, and yet, I can’t shake the unwanted feelings away.
My hands ball into tight fists, and the carefree feeling I had moments ago swirls down the drain. Kennedy shakes her head, the blonde strands of hair catching in the morning sunlight that filters through the window, making them appear as if they’re spun gold. I’m reminded of her sweet scent from the other night. Floral with a light dusting of something else.
She’s a temptation. So beautiful, perfect, but a tempting poison that will kill you if you take a sip. The jock’s face falls when Kennedy turns, picks up her bag, and walks away. Her shoulders are curled in, and she looks uncomfortable even though the guy didn’t do anything but talk to her.
What the hell?
My brows pinch together with confusion. This is the kind of thing she likes, attention, guys falling over their own feet to get to her, so why is she walking away from him? It has to be a front. She’s playing a game, being shy, pretending to be someone she isn’t in hopes I’ll get off her back, but that’s not going to happen.
I can’t and won’t be fooled by some fake-ass mask that she wears. Does she forget that I know her? Really know her. My jaw aches as I clench it. The fact that she’s turning this into a game pisses me the fuck off.
Pushing up out of the chair, I walk in the direction she went. Who does she think she is? Pretending that she doesn’t want attention, that she isn’t outgoing or a ball of fucking sunshine. As long as I’ve known her, all she’s ever done is talk to people. She loved being the center of attention, both her and Jillian thrived from it, like goddamn plants in the summer sun.
There’s no way she’s changed that much. I might not see the whole picture when it comes to Kennedy, but I’m not stupid. She wants me to think she’s changed. Well, it’s time I show her which one of us actually has.
Speed walking, I catch up to her just as she passes the door that heads up to the stacks. An idea pops into my head, and I decide to go with it. Let’s see how far I can push her before she breaks. She’s basically jogging through the place as if she can outrun me. Not today, princess. Reaching out, I grab her by the shoulder, stopping her from taking another step.
A gasp slips past her pink parted lips as she comes to a halt and turns to face her assailant. Pain lances across her features as if struck at the sight of me.
“Jackson,” she says my name in a hushed whisper, and I hate that it still has the same effect on me as it did the day before my sister died.
I wish every good memory I had with Kennedy would die. Every thought, every feeling. I wish it would all wilt away and become dirt beneath my feet.
“Don’t say my fucking name,” I grit out, reacting with venom as I release her shoulder and snake my hand around her wrist. Tugging her toward me and back to the door that leads up the stairs, I can feel the resistance she puts up, attempting to dig her feet into the ground and tug her arm out of my grasp.
“Where are we going? I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” The underlining panic in her voice only encourages me more.
Twisting the doorknob, I open the door and tug us up the first couple of steps.
“I don’t really give a fuck what you want to do. I have a lesson to teach you.”