Page 4 of Unmasked Legacy

“You know what, that would be amazing.”

He smiles, showing me a row of perfect teeth. He was handsome when he was younger, but now, Jace is simplydazzling. I don’t know how he isn’t married with ten kids. Lord knows if I married someone that looked like him I would never leave.

“Excellent. Put your number in my phone, and we can work out a time when you’ve settled in.”

He steps up closer to me, stretching out his hand and passing me a phone. I put my number in and flush as our fingers gaze. Jace somehow manages to have the same effect on me as he did all those years ago. Gosh, I was obsessed with him. I cringe at the memories. Back then, I would have done just about anything to get him to notice me.

“I’ll leave you to it. It was amazing to see you, Mera. We never did get the chance to hang out back then, so I’m glad we do now.”

I smile. I can’t help it. “Me, too.”

Once he leaves, I turn my attention back to the house. For so long, I thought this was my happy place, now I look at it and wonder if every single moment I felt good in this house was simply a lie, a mask covering up the raw truth. Exhaling, and knowing I’ve had enough for today, I turn and walk away.

One step at a time.

That’s what my therapist told me.

Just one damn step at a time.

2

The bar hums with activity as Jace and I make our way inside, and I can't help but notice the heads turning in my direction. It's no surprise—I’m the talk of the town, and everyone’s eager to remind me. Each venture from my hotel room has been met with harsh remarks, stares, and whispers.

It seems people don’t forget as easily as I’d hoped.

“Everyone is staring at me,” I mumble to Jace, lowering my head as I take the hand he stretches behind me, capturing mine and making me feel a moment of safety.

“Ignore them. It’ll be okay. Come on.”

We settle into a booth, and I let out a breath, feeling a sense of relief. I'm not usually confrontational, but I’ll defend myself if needed. The first unwelcome comment may be all it takes to set me off. They act as if I was the one who murdered people and destroyed this town, as if it were me with blood on my hands.

They forget I was just a child.

“People suck,” I tell Jace, meeting his eyes. “It’s like they think I did it.”

“They’re just bored,” he reassures me, enclosing my hand with his, sending a shiver down my spine. “What drink would you like?”

“Vodka and soda, with lemon, please.”

He smiles warmly. “Coming right up.”

As he leaves, I keep my gaze low, avoiding eye contact. The door opens, diverting everyone’s attention, and I can’t help but see what's causing the stir. It must be good if they have takentheir inquisitive gazes off me for a second. A group of bikers, sporting leather jackets with recognizable patches, enter the bar.

I’m familiar with them—theFallen Sons MC. They’ve been around since my childhood. I didn’t know them, but I recall their presence, mysterious but not troublesome. At least, not that I remember. To be fair, I was a teenage girl too worried about boys and friends to notice a heap of bikers getting around.

Swallowing, I watch as they approach, led by a breathtaking man. There is something about him, something terrifying. He holds a deep, dangerous darkness and yet his face is the most incredible one I think I’ve ever laid eyes on.

The contrast is captivating.

His thick, dark hair appears as though he has done nothing more than flick it back with his hands, the ends curling as they sit messily atop his head. His deep olive skin and steel-blue eyes, almost metallic, are mesmerizing. Standing over six feet, he’s all muscle, and his presence is powerful, causing everyone in the room to just stare.

As he passes, my gaze locks with his, and I inhale sharply. It feels as though he knows me, or perhaps I should know him. A sense of familiarity runs through my body, even though I’m certain I’ve never met him before. His expression darkens, conveying something I can't decipher. I bite my lip, held by his stare until he moves on.

“If I had known they would be here, I wouldn’t have come,” Jace murmurs, sitting down with two drinks in his hands.

“It’s okay,” I say, staring at the spot the man just passed. “They aren’t bothering anyone.”

“Yet,” Jace mutters. “They’re not known to be the nicest people.”

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