Page 53 of Ruthless Legacy

“Selfrespect is important to me, meaning I need to be able to look in the mirror every day and not feel like I have to justify or quantify the reasons I compromised on my beliefs. I have to be able to stand by my actions, even if they’re wrong. The respect you’re talking about focuses on everyone else. I have to earn their respect, just like they need to earn mine. Now you mentioned advantages. What are those?”

He takes a moment before answering. “I admit, I can’t really speak to any advantages that would benefit you. Everything boosts our men. Networking. Job opportunities. Power. It’s all about status and control for the men, and the wives and children just enjoy it, until the male child comes of age and immerses himself into our world.”

“My point exactly. Do I get networking and job opportunities? Will it open doors for me to applications, grants and legislation that help things I’m passionate about? And what happens if Joshua messes up and gets booted again, or dies off? What happens to me and my benefits then? I already know another family takes my place.”

I wave at the air. “So all of this is temporary. I’d rather put my time and effort into worrying about something sustainable, like finishing school and my career goals.”

“Archaeology, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s refreshing.”

“How so?”

“Most of the students pick something like business, pre-med, marketing, or teaching. Even the English, political science or history majors will often go on to attend law school.”

“Since Canyon Falls has one of the best archaeology programs on the West coast, I’m assuming the students you’re referring to are all legacy students. Anyone in the archaeology tract plans to get their hands dirty, or they want a job in a museum or gallery. Maybe they’ll teach history in an academic setting.”

I tilt my head, trying to get a read on him. “But taking into consideration that most of my classmates are men, I guess I would be an outlier. Is that what you mean by refreshing? That I’m a woman in a male dominated major at this school?”

“I suppose, I do. Not that women aren’t capable, but as you’ve alluded, our legacy students, or the other young women who merely hope to catch the eye of a legacy heir, don’t like to ‘get their hands dirty.’”

“That brings us full circle, Papa Pax. I’m not a part of your little legacy faction.”

“And yet I’ve signed paperwork identifying your family as such. Are you declining this as well?”

I’m not in the mood to argue the point, and he’ll likely come up with another way to link me to this town. The path of least resistance says to let him call me whatever he wants. It’s what I call myself that matters.

“I have no say so in what title you use to identify Joshua, Moira and Scott. If that’s what they’re now putting on their business cards, good for them. If having the misfortune of being related to them means that’s what everyone checks on their list for me, so be it. Just don’t expect me to suddenly have a personality transplant.” I smirk at him. “If that’s what you think will happen, then brace yourself for disappointment.”

He strikes the ground twice with his cane, then strolls back down the path. I chuckle as people jump out of his way. I watch until I can no longer make out his form before heading to the library.

* * *

My phone’s been blowing up all afternoon, and all afternoon I’ve been letting it go to voicemail. I’m sure word has spread about my tête-à-tête with Papa Pax. I’m not ready to talk to Moira or Scott about how foolish it was to be honest with the man, or the hear the latest gossip about what’s happening out in the twisted little world of Canyon Falls.

I never thought I’d say it, but I miss the simplicity of Nags Creek. Sure, the streets are dangerous, and you have to duck bullets and navigate an ongoing gang war, but at least I knew how to deal with that. I knew what I was dealing with. I knew who my enemies were. Here, everything’s shrouded in secrets and mystery and I don’t know who I need to be watching my back around.

The phone rings again, from an unknown number. Nope. Still not answering it. It’s probably a spam call, and they never leave a message.

I cut into my apple with my knife, and spear a slice on the tip of the blade, crunching into the tart Granny Smith, with an appreciative hum. I love these green apples.

My enjoyment of my snack is short-lived as I think about how much shit I’ve experienced in such a short time. I really wish I knew what I did to piss off the higher power in the sky. It’s like I can’t even catch a break. Going off of Moira’s version of my birth certificate, I’m only nineteen. I couldn’t have wracked up this much negative karma already.

I take a frustrated bite of my apple. I’m not saying I’m an angel, but I shouldn’t have a negative balance in my karma account. Or maybe I do. Since coming here I haven’t exactly done a lot to replenish it. But, shouldn’t I get a pass for not going out of my way to deplete from it? I was in a coma and my life is a chaotic mess right now. Don’t I deserve a break? Just a little breathing room?

I slice off another piece of apple with the knife Finn gifted me. I had cautiously optimistic expectations for the new year. Three weeks in, and I want to hit the reset button. Just throw out everything, except LJ being back on campus, and my weekend with Wolfe.

Now I’m smiling like a loon. He’s so grumpy no one would ever believe that he’s domesticated. His hands are magical, even when he’s not using them to coax an orgasm out of me. His voice is one I wouldn’t mind hearing right now. I dial his number and finish the last bite of my apple, waiting for him to answer.

“LaReaux?”

“What are you up to?”

“Inputting scores. You?”

“Avoiding homework.”

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