Page 116 of Legacy

“No wonder you’ve been running from me. You don’t remember. This must all feel so sudden for you. So fresh. So new.” Lincoln presses closer, his tone sending a chill down my spine. “You can’t see how long we’ve been heading to this exact moment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The retreat.” His tone has bite to it now. “You and your sister were helping tie ribbons when you bumped me. Your father apologized for your mistake when I should have been thanking him for bringing you into my life instead.”

The ribbons?

I dig through the archives in my mind to try and piece together what Lincoln is talking about. If my father was there then it had to have involved him. But my father brought his family to hundreds of events when I was younger. He loved parading us around like we were his personal trophy collection.

I think back until I remember a time that involved ribbons.

A few months before Dad died, we joined him at his company’s weekend retreat, and they needed help with the table decorations for the night auction. Dad said it would make him look good if Livie and I helped, so we tied ribbons until ourfingers hurt.

When I was arranging one of the centerpieces, I leaned a little too far and spilled a glass of water on one of the men sitting at the table. He jumped up, and I bumped into him.

I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Dad apologized on my behalf and berated me for the rest of the weekend for my mistake.

Was that man Lincoln?

I didn’t spare the man a second glance, but clearly, he did.

“I see you’re remembering now.” Lincoln brushes my cheek again, and my stomach coils.

“But you’re a principal.” I shake my head. “My dad was in finance.”

“His company made a number of large donations to our music program. I was there with the choir that night to thank them for their generosity.”

The choir.

The music.

Slowly, that night floods back to me.

I can still feel the tickle of the breeze on my legs. I can hear the violin in the air. I can feel the tension of my tight dress around my ribs.

“You were lovely then but too young. Too inexperienced.” Lincoln says it like he’s praising himself for not acting on his sick thoughts when I was a minor. “But I was willing to wait for you. I even let you grieve when your father passed so you wouldn’t be confused about us. But then you smiled at me in that store, and I knew our time had come.”

“You’ve been watching me since I was a teenager.”

“You make it sound gross.” There’s an angry pitch to his tone like he’s not willing to accept the truth. “I waited for you until you were older because I loved you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“This isn’t love.” My words are nearly a whisper.

“Yes, it is.” His fist pounds the wall beside my head, and I jump. “I’ve given you time, but I’ve been patient enough. And I refuse to hand you over to that biker. He doesn’t even know you like I do.”

Lincoln doesn’t know me at all. This is a delusion. He’s made up an entire relationship in his head.

It should terrify me. But as I look up at him, I don’t focus on the fear. I dig deeper.

I’m not the weak, simpleminded girl Lincoln met at that retreat. I’m not the moldable girl my father tried to make me. I have a backbone now. I’m stronger than I’ve been raised to believe.

And Jesse is the one who helped me see it.

Tipping my chin up, I face off with Lincoln. “I’m not your possession to decide what you do with. And if you’re not careful, you’ll find out hownot yoursI am when Jesse gets his hands on you.”

Lincoln grabs my arms, shoving my back against the wall. “You think you’re tough because you spread your legs for a biker? He’s not here, Reagan. I am. Like always. Because I’m the one who actually cares.”

“Fuck. You.” I try to wrestle free, but it only makes him grab me tighter.

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