Page 91 of Sweet Possession

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Her gaze dropped to her lap. She knew exactly what it felt like to beterrified of your family. It was probably one of the reasons Nash and I bonded when we were younger; he was terrified of his brother, and rightly so.Blake Carson was an evil piece of shit who deserved what happenedto him. Hopefully, one day, the same would happen to Freddy Clarke.

My dad too. Itjustwouldn’t be at my hands.

“Can I ask you something?”Cora whispered.

“You can ask me anything you like, baby girl.”

Her head turned to Jessie’s grave.“Your parents aren’t listed on herheadstone.”

My jaw tensed as bile swirled in my stomach at the thought of mypathetic excuse for parents.Eventhough my dad had tried to save Jessie, he didn’t deserve his name to be on her gravestone, not after four years of pretending she didn’t exist.

As for my mom, she never gave a shit about Jessie before she died.Afterwards, she used Jessie’s death as a means to gain people’s sympathy, forgettingthatshe had another child to take care of. She didn’t love Jessie, it was as simple asthat.

“She had another gravestone before I bought her a new one. It hadmy parent’s names on it, but every time I saw it, I wanted to chisel their names out. I visited her grave every day for years. My dad had arranged for her to be buried in this plot here, away from everyone so he could continue pretending she didn’t exist. After her funeral, my mom and dad never came to her grave, so I made it my responsibility to make sure Jessie was never forgotten. As soon as I could afford it, I had a new gravestone made without any mention of them, and I changed my name.”

An amused grin formed on her lips.“You changed your name? Howdid I not knowthat? What was it before?”

I chuckled.“I was named after my dad, Harvey Hill Junior. I fuckinghated it. He used to tell me all the timethatI was vermin. A foxthatscavenged around, wanting to be loved, but no one wanted. Instead of letting his abuse get to me, I embraced it. I adopted the name Fox to show himthathe couldn’t hurt me with words. So when I moved out, I changed my name to Jesse Fox. Jesse in memory of Jessie, and Fox because any time my dad saw the name Fox on the Vegas strip, I wanted him to be reminded of the son he’d tried to break but failed.”

Admiration shone in Cora’s eyes, and I hoped she was beginning toseethatjustbecause a childhood was spent with cruel parents who didn’t give a fuck about you, it didn’t have to define who you were.

We fell quiet again, and I could tell Cora was turning over everything Ihad told her. Whenever she was deep in thought, her eyes would always drop to her hands where she’d appear to be examining her nails in great detail.

I stared at my sister’s gravestone. Nearly nineteen years had passed,yet not a single day went by when I didn’t think about her.

“You know, I often wonder what she’d be like if she was still alivetoday,”I said, breaking the silence.“What would she look like? What wouldshe work as? Would she have children of her own? The only thing I knew about her wasthather favorite color was blue, and she loved animals.”

My gaze dropped to the blue roses lying on her grave. Every time Ivisited, I stopped at a florist nearby and had them spray white roses blue, specially for Jessie.

Cora wiggled in my lap before getting to her feet. My brows furrowedin question, but I didn’t say anything, waiting to see what was going through her pretty head.

She took a few steps closer to Jessie’s grave.“I think she’d bebeautiful,”she started, crouching down to pull a rose from the bouquet.“I think she’d have long, brown hair, the same color as yours. Her eyes too. She’d have your eyes.”She stood, giving me a small smile before bringing the flower to her nose to inhale. My heart began to pump faster at the image of my sister Cora was creating.“She’d take dance classes.”

“What kind of dance?”I asked, crossing my leg over the other, asmile playing on my lips.

Cora slowly walked behind Jessie’s gravestone, pausing to look downat the flower with a beautiful smile on her face.“Ballet. She’d be able to dothatthing where dancers go up on the tip of their toes. But dance wouldjustbe her hobby. Her real passion would be animals. She’d train to be a vet, and she’d dedicate her life to looking after sick animals.”

A lump formed in my throat, imagining what it would be like to see mysister in her veterinary scrubs, hovering over an operating table while she performed surgery on an injured dog.

“And she’d rescue loads of animals too. She’d have a big house, andit’d be full of all kinds of animalsthatpeople didn’t love anymore. She’d open her house to take them all in because she would have a huge heart, full of love for those who needed it.”Cora paused to look at me.“Justlike her brother.”

I didn’t know a tear had fallen until I licked my lips and tasted the saltydroplet.

Cora gently laid the rose on top of Jessie’s gravestone beforewalking back around, crouching once more and laying a hand on one of the white stonesthatsurrounded the grave.

“Hi, Jessie,”Cora said, talking to the gravestone like I’d done manytimes over the years.“I’m Cora. I’m your brother’s girlfriend.”

My smile grew bigger as contentment filtered through me. It was thefirst time I’d heard her refer to herself as my girlfriend. Soon she’d be referring to herself as my fiancèe, andthenmy wife.

“I’m sorry we never got a chance to meet, but I want you to know howmuch I love your brother. He’s the best man I’ve ever met, and I’ll love him for the rest of my life,”Cora said, her voice thick with emotion.“And I want you to knowthatyou’ll never be forgotten. You may have only had four years in this life, but your memory has lived on all this time, and will carry on because Fox will never forget you. And neither will I.”

When her voice broke, I stood and walked over to her. She sensedme approaching, rising from where she’d been crouching. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my chest and kissing the top of her head.

She may not have realized it, butjustbeing here, wanting to keepJessie’s memory alive helped me more than any therapy session could. More than any drug I could take to forget the pain I carried every day.

More than any words could express.

Chapter 26