Page 103 of Legacy

It’s going to be okay.

But no matter how many times Jesse says it, I see the truth. Someone just took a shot at his daughter in public. Nothing is okay.

29

Reagan

When we pull upto the house, Jesse is still quietly reassuring Bea. He’s her rock, even as I sense tension rolling off him.

He white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire drive back, and from how he flexes his fingers as he climbs out, I imagine they ache from his grip.

Bea is still shaking when he takes her from me and carries her into the house. They retreat upstairs, and I imagine they have a lot to talk about. Between what Austin told Bea about her mother and the gunshot, Jesse is in for a long conversation.

I wait in the living room, trying to read and failing. Every creak of the upstairs floorboards steals my attention, and I find myself wondering how the conversation is going.

Wishing I could be a part of it.

But I’m not part of this family—not really. So I sit with my own anxiety and wait for what feels like forever before Jesse finally comes back downstairs.

He’s still fully dressed, from his jeans to his cut. But when I expect him to drop into the chair across the room, he lifts my feet and sits on the cushion beside me, draping my legs over him.

Jesse rests his head back against the couch, letting out a deep sigh.

“How is she?”

“Upset. Shaken. Sleeping… finally.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Austin told her about Sera.”

“I heard.”

His eyes snap to mine.

“She mentioned it at the store.” I shrug. “So Ijustheard. I told her she should talk to you about it, but all this happened before she got the chance.”

Understanding and defeat fill his expression. “It pisses me off because Sera doesn’t realize what she’s missing out on, and Bea is the one who has to live with that.”

“She’ll understand someday.” I reach for his hand. “And she’ll be thankful she has you.”

“I hope so.” He sighs. “How are you doing? I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’d be lying if I said I’m not still processing it. I didn’t realize…” I bite my lip, not sure how to word it. “I know the club handles some dangerous situations but being that close to it was different. I barely had time to think when it happened. But you were so fast. What you did—” I swallow hard. “Your aim.”

“Dad taught me to fire a gun the second I could hold one.”

That explains the perfect shot.

“Will you get in trouble? We just left the scene.”

“Steel’s taking care of it.” Jesse brushes my worry off.

It’s a reminder of what his club gets away with. Regardless of whether the other biker was pointing a gun at us, Jesse was the one who fired. He killed the man in the middle of the children’s clothing section and then walked away. And of all the things that happened today, that seems to be the least of his concerns.

How many men has Jesse killed that he’s completely unaffected by the fact that he just took someone’s life?

I don’t dare ask him.

Jesse rubs his hand up and down my thigh, watching my palm. “You stood in front of Bea when you saw the gun.”

“You would have done the same.”

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