Page 101 of Legacy

“I wouldn’t dare.” I grin.

He owes me later, anyway, considering I was right. I told him that it didn’t matter if he reminded her all afternoon that our shopping trip was for school-appropriate clothes only, he was bound to break within the first thirty minutes.

It took Bea a record-breaking ten minutes to get a tutu out of him.

It’s impressive, to say the least.

Jesse’s phone chimes, and he pulls it out of his pocket, frowning at the screen. It’s rare he looks anything but annoyed when his phone starts making noise, which I’ve come to learn is often. The club takes more of his time than anything else. And even if he’s taking a day off or is home for the night, he’ll frequently get called back or need to pull out his laptop to work on something.

Bea always just continues whatever she’s doing, unaffected by it. Jesse might not notice, but Bea is more in tune with his world than he would like to think.

“I need to call Steel.” Jesse’s frown deepens as he looks to where Bea has diverted from school clothes again in favor of trying on headbands.

“You go deal with that.” I smile. “I’ve got Bea.”

Something flashes in his eyes, and I wish I knew what it was. But it fades just as fast as he leans in to steal a quick kiss since Bea’s back is to us. The heat of it lingers as he turns to make his call.

I try to bury the butterflies and walk over to Bea, pausing when a text chimes from my pocket.

Lincoln: A biker, Reagan? Really? Come back, and I’ll give you your life back. One you can be proud of.

My hands shake as I read the message again. Bile rises in my throat.

Lincoln is watching.

It’s something I’ve known since the incident at the bar, but it hits deeper with his direct confirmation.

After the night at the bar, Jesse had more pressing things to deal with regarding Sera. I assumed he’d all but forgotten about Lincoln. It wasn’t until he updated me a few days ago, letting me know there was still no sign of him, that I realized he hadn’t forgotten at all.

As if he doesn’t have enough on his plate, dealing with his own enemies. Now he’s feeling the burden of taking on mine.

Guilt courses through me, knowing I’m adding stress to his shoulders. Or worse, that I’m bringing threats to his and Bea’s life.

I scan the store for Lincoln, but he’s not there. Always just out of reach but still close enough to remind me that I’m not free of him.

What happens if Lincoln escalates? What if he targets me when Bea is around? I won’t be able to live with myself.

“I like this one,” Bea announces when she spots me standing nearby.

She spins a neon-green headband between her fingers, not noticing that my smile is forced as I shove my phone back into my pocket.

“We’re here for pants,” I remind her. “You’ve ripped holes in two pairs this week.”

She plays soccer at recess like she’s aiming to win a World Cup, which is wreaking havoc on her wardrobe.

“This one matches the tutu.”

“I’ll tell you what…” I cross my arms over my chest, pursing my lips. “You can get one headband as a present from me because you helped me with the house last weekend. But that’s it. No more asking for things. Only school clothes. Deal?”

“Deal.” She lifts her chin with her wide smile. “Thank you, Reagan.”

“Mm-hmm.” I smirk. “Now let’s find pants before your father makes you put everything back for not listening.”

At that, I finally manage to get Bea to the pants, and she picks them out quickly. The school uniform only allows for two colors, and neither is colorful like Bea’s usual wardrobe choices. Still, I grab four pairs, anticipating needing them soon if her track record on the soccer field is any indication.

Once we have pants, we linger by the shirts while we wait for Jesse to get off the phone.

“You okay?” I ask when I realize she’s been staring at a shelf a little too long.

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