"Does it feel good knowing I'd kill for you, Jamilyn?"
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Upon the passing of her grandfather, Jamilyn Caswell, moves back to Forks, Washington to aid her grandmother. What she didn't expect was to h...
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"Some children are simply born with tragedy in their blood."
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I watch Jamie leave her house from my phone through the security camera I installed on mine. Squinting my eyes at her attire, I wanted to laugh. Jamie looked prim and proper in her yellow dress; it was slightly puffy but not enough to hide her delicious curves. That seemed to irritate her grandmother because now she was tugging on the material, scowling at her.
This was the first time I'd seen her grandmother unhappy with her, and Jamie was also upset at her. I shoot Jamie a text and watch her gaze at her phone before looking towards the house, narrowly missing the camera. I watch her curl an arm around her brother and guide him inside the car. After closing the door, Jamie and her grandmother exchanged words before Jamie's shoulders slumped in defeat.
Ding Dong
I wait a moment and watch as Jamie looks towards my front porch, her eyes narrowing before she hops in and drives off. I hear the car drive by and hiss in irritation at whoever upset my Jamie. I head downstairs, bring Bee in from the backyard, and walk to the front door, where the doorbell rings again.
"Just a second," I call out, holding my blunt between my lips while I reload my gun.
Placing the gun at my waist, I swing the door open and scoff. A woman with blonde hair and brown eyes stood with her finger raised to ring the doorbell again. I glare at her while she gives me a wide malicious grin, clicking her red heels together.
Abby Sutton, the daughter of forks chief officer and my ex-fiancé.
"I hope you don't mind me stopping by," she says, her voice like a fork scratching a porcelain plate.
I want to put bullets through her face.
"Why are you here, Abby?"
She pouts, poking her tongue against her cheek. "I just wanted to say hello—"
I slam the door in her face and sigh, gazing down at Bee, that was licking his leg clean. I grimace, and before I can walk away from the thing outside, she repeatedly rings the doorbell. I contemplated saying fuck it and getting another felony, but it'll have to wait.
Swinging a door open with a glare, I drag her inside, pushing her toward the living room. "What do you want?" I cut to the chase.
Abby scoffs, settling herself on the couch. "I just wanted to chat about your new plaything."
"Leave her name out of your mouth," I grit, taking a puff from the blunt—my hand twitching for the gun.
Suddenly her eyes swept with greed, hungry and dark. "I'd watch your tone with me, Creed. I wouldn't want daddy to come and deport dear old granny or get Jamilyn in trouble with the law."
