Page 193 of Heartless Legacy

I’ve been thinking about accounting ledgers all week. “I wanted to look at the financial ledgers from the year The League was established, and for the years 1940 through 1962.” It might be a long shot that those years will lead me to a new clue, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

“And why would you want to do that?”

I want to ask him if my reason matters, but I say, “It’s the mixup in Vale Tower. I hate not having answers about how that happened. Computers and software aren’t perfect. There’s a human input component and we make mistakes. I figured, rather than relying on memory, seeing the ledgers would put me at ease.”

“I understand. Sign in.”

I jot down my name, casually glancing at the other names on the page. Thea’s signature is on the preceding page from a few weeks ago.

The archivist walks away and returns a few minutes later. “They stay here.” He says, pushing the heavy stack of books towards me. I flip them open to check the dates. The ink is faded in some places, but still readable.

I carry the books to an empty table and thumb through the first one. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out it isn’t the book I need. When I return it to the front counter, the archivist asks, “Done already?”

“I’m looking for the first ledger.”

“First?”

“Yes, the one with the original donation entries. The one you gave me has a summary on the first twelve pages before the record of accounting begins.”

“Oh. Sure, we don’t have that one, but all the information has been transposed into this one.” He taps the book I’m trying to return.

“What happened to the actual book?”

“It was destroyed in a fire.”

“I don’t remember ever hearing about The Tomb having a fire.”

“Not here. The headquarters for the bank we originally used is in New York. They archived all documents in a town that had a huge fire, about sixty something years ago. The ledgers fromthe early years didn’t survive. We had to go to each family and trace their financial records back to the beginning to get the information.” He taps the book again. “It’s all in here.”

“Are you sure?” He looks young. Maybe he’s misremembering what he was told. If he’s right, then I have a new thread to follow.The source of east side money matters. “I’ve never heard any of this.”

“You wouldn’t. It’s something we learn when we’re training to work in the archives.”

Before he walks away, I ask, “What’s the name of the town?”

Chapter 107

Thea

Isit up in bed when the door to my bedroom creaks open. I’ve spent the last two nights at the campus library finishing up a paper. I’m going back early in the morning, so it’s been more convenient to stay on campus. The intruder negates the argument I made that I’d be safe here. I slide my knife from under my pillow as Holden steps into the room.

He ignores the knife and climbs onto the bed on his hands and knees until he’s hovering over me. The light from the bedroom window cuts across his face. The darkness swirls across his grey eyes, like a storm rolling across the Nevada desert.

There’s been no new information about my mother’s time in Rock Mountain Rehab, and the posters are still being put up all over campus. My anger and hurt have been festering all night. I could barely concentrate on my paper, because I couldn’t stop thinking about her in a league facility.

Holden looks upset, too. There’s a sense of loss and hopelessness in his eyes as he stares down at me. I’ve never seen him look like this before. I reach up, pushing his hair back from his forehead, then grip the back of his neck, pulling him to lie onthe bed beside me. When he’s settled onto his back, I turn on my side to face him. “Do you wanna’ talk about it?”

“No. Do you?”

I shake my head because my answer is the same as his. Instead, I slide my hands into his pants and palm his dick. Holden could already be balls deep inside me, but he let me wake up instead. He wants a different kind of connection tonight.

My gaze is locked on his as I ease down the bed, pulling his sweatpants down as I go, until I’m at his waist. I take him into my mouth. It takes a few minutes for him to relax enough to touch me back. When he does, I take him deeper, cutting off my breath, then come back up for air. I grip his base, stroking him up and down, rotating my wrist at the top, then swallow him down again. Using my hand in tandem with my mouth.

“Don’t use your hands.” He says. I pretend not to hear him, using both my hands. I’m in charge. I’m in control.

“Rey!” He hisses, palming the back of my head, pushing me down hard. My body locks up, the interest I had in sucking him off replaced by the encroaching panic. I try to pull back. He thrusts up into my mouth, holding my head steady. “This sensitive throat misses me, babe?” He asks, as I struggle against his hold. “I bet it has. Let’s find out how much.”

I gag around his length as he fucks my throat. Relentless in his pace and force of his stroke. “Damn, I’ve missed you drooling all over me like this.”

---