Page 32 of Unmasked Legacy

Attempting to suck in a breath, it feels as though it gets trapped in my throat, and I only begin panicking more. My head spins so intensely I fall forward, my forehead slamming against his chest. Instead of pushing me back, he holds me there by putting his hand on the back of my head.

“Keep tryin’, I got you.”

I do as he asks, closing my eyes, tears dripping onto the seat as I slowly try to get my breath a little farther than last time.

“When you breathe out, breathe out with everything you have, put your entire body into it.”

I do.

Breathing in, I exhale as dramatically as I can, letting my entire body sink farther into him. He smells like leather, and man, and a cologne that is so fucking incredible it takes my mind off the panic attack for a small second. Then, I notice his fingers on my head, slowly rubbing through my hair.

He’s comforting me.

Wolfe is comforting me.

It’s enough of a distraction that I’m able to get in a deeper breath, then another, and another, until the panic eases just a little. Wolfe doesn’t move me, he just lets me sit there like I am, until I’m physically able to push myself back into a seated position. When I do, my hair is a mess, sticking to my tear-streaked face, and I know I look like a hot mess.

“Want to tell me what happened in there?”

I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

Such an attractive moment.

“I haven’t seen him since the night he got arrested,” I croak.

Wolfe’s brows go up. “All these years, you never followed the trial? Never seen what happened to him?”

I shake my head. “I did everything in my power to avoid it. If I saw him on a newspaper cover, or on the television, I would get the hell out. Eventually, his face stopped showing, and I was happy with that.”

“That’s rough.”

Indeed, it is.

“Can I tell you what the worst part is?”

He nods, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lighting it, inhaling deeply then exhaling. Here we are, justsitting face to face on his bike, like a couple of old friends. It pings something deep in my chest, a feeling that frightens me. I’m scared of that feeling, because if it grows, I’m in deep shit.

“I still find it so hard to believe he could do it.”

Wolfe breathes the smoke out slowly. God he’s fucking gorgeous.

He offers me the cigarette, and I take it.

I’m not a smoker, but right now, I’ll make an exception.

I bring it to my lips, inhaling deep before slowly exhaling with a cough. God, that’s strong. I pass it back to him.

“Because he’s your old man?”

I shrug. “Because he never hurt me. He was always kind, always loving. He wasn’t very affectionate, sure, but he took care of me. Even seeing him on the screen, he looks so ... weak, frail, like how could he do what he did?”

“People can surprise you, and the shit that runs deep in a person’s brain can be darker than anything you could imagine. You were his child; it’s a different kind of love.”

“He brutally murdered women, and he did it without a care in the world.”

“Can’t know that,” he points out, taking another inhale.

“If he cared, he wouldn’t have kept doing it.”

---