Page 123 of Legacy

“Your boss gave you an order.” She bends his finger back farther.

His face twists in pain until he manages to slip her grip. She’s limited with how she can attack from her cell, and now that he’s free, he aims for her instead.

The biker reaches into the girl’s cell and grabs her by the throat. Her nails dig into his arms as he pulls her face to the front of the cell so hard her face slams against the bars. Blood spills from her split lip, but she doesn’t so much as flinch as her fiery brown eyes stare into his.

Her shoulder-length brown hair is messy and matted at the back like she’s been here for at least a few days. Dirt is caked under her nails and covers her arms.

“Careful, Aimee, or Titan will make good on those threats before your daddy has a chance to do his job.” The biker shoves Aimee, and she collapses against the back of the cell.

She stares at him with the kind of rage that’s palpable as he turns to go. Blood drips down her lip and chin, but she doesn’t lift her hand to wipe it away until he slams the basement door behind him.

“Asshole,” she mutters.

I turn to face her. “Are you okay?”

Her gaze meets mine, and she pauses, stepping closer in the limited space of our connected cells.

“I’m fine.” Her tone is clipped and angry. “You?”

“I’m all right, thanks to you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

There’s nothing friendly in her tone, and I get the sense that whatever in life hardened her happened long before she was locked up down here.

“I’m Reagan,” I say, introducing myself.

She spits blood on the ground. “Aimee.”

Through the dirt caked on her clothes and cheeks, she’s pretty. But she’s not soft or sweet. Everything about Aimee is pure fire and rage. There’s a war waging in her eyes, and her presence is cold and harsh.

“Is your father the reason you’re here?” I ask her, remembering what the biker said.

The other girls in the room are silent, so maybe I’m not supposed to talk. But this girl saved me, so the least I can do is get to know her.

She nods once. No emotion. Just a cold glaze over her eyes.

“Yeah.” She skims me over. “Let me guess, you’re with a Twisted King?”

I nod.

“Figures.” She huffs.

“Why do you say that?”

A dark chuckle leaves her lips as she rests her head against the back of her cell. “Because this is what happens when you fall for one of them.”

“You say that like you know something about it.”

Her jaw ticks. “Yeah, at one point, I did.”

I swallow hard, wanting to know more of that story but knowing better than to ask. So instead, I say, “Thank you for stopping him.”

“No worries. Wish I could save you from what’s next, but I think we’re both a little fucked where that’s concerned.”

“Seems like it.” I press my palm to my stomach, wishing it would settle.

Aimee notices, her eyes falling to my hands. When her stare snaps back up, I hear the question without her even having to ask it.

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