Page 14 of Legacy

“Of course.” Reagan nods, and I appreciate that she at least understands.

“Reagan’s staying?” Bea asks, bouncing in her seat, looking over at her. “Does this mean we can color? And play? I’ve got new dolls and a unicorn. It sparkles and makes music. You’re going to like Mr. Sparkles.”

“I’m sure I’ll love Mr. Sparkles.” Reagan places her hand over Bea’s on the counter. “But let’s get full bellies first. Eat your pancakes.”

Damn it, she’s responsible too. I appreciate it when I want Bea to have a routine, but I don’t need any more reasons to like Reagan.

Bea turns back to her breakfast, shoving a piece of sausage into her mouth, and I stand, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be back later.”

“By dinner?”

“I’ll try my best.” Unlike my father, I never promise Bea anything I can’t deliver on, so I leave it at that.

Usually, that makes Bea frown, but this morning, she’s all smiles as she takes another bite, looking up at Reagan.

I turn to walk away before Reagan stops me. “Thanks, Jesse.”

Looking back at her, I’m met with her pinched expression. I don’t know what she’s thanking me for, and it eats at that part of me that can’t quite figure her out. After all, I should be the one thanking her.

But I don’t.

I walk away, leaving her words hanging in the air between us. She needs to understand this isn’tpermanent, and this isn’t me being nice. She’s not staying. I couldn’t stand it.

Her in my kitchen.

Her smiling at my daughter.

Her waking up this hum in my chest.

Reagan is an itch begging to be scratched, but there’s no way in hell I’m dumb enough to do it.

4

Legacy

Four hours later, I’vemanaged to shove Reagan from my mind long enough to survive a morning at the strip club. Nothing is less appealing than a room of drunk men pawing at topless women while the lukewarm breakfast bar gets cold, so I hide in the office and analyze the books until I have enough to make sense of them.

I barely make it back to the clubhouse in time for church, and still somehow end up being the first to arrive. Waiting while everyone else takes their sweet time like always.

My brothers care about the club, but they don’t have the same responsibilities that I do. Ones that exist outside of these walls. Ones that force me to actually care about what time it is, where I’m at, or who might be waiting for me.

Guess this comes with being the only single father in a new generation of club leadership. Most of the membershaven’t settled down, and those who are attached have old ladies to help them out. Like Steel, who has Tempe to shoulder the responsibility of raising Austin.

Bea is mine and mine alone.

I’m her stability.

While previous generations set the example of knocking women up and passing their kids off like a burden for the old ladies to deal with until they were old enough to hold a gun, I’m trying to be different.

If Dad was still around, I’m sure he’d have plenty to say about that.

He wasn’t warm, fuzzy, or much of a father. He mentored me into my role as Treasurer of the Twisted Kings, and so long as I lived up to my name of being his legacy, that’s all that mattered.

Legacy.

It’s somehow both a curse and the very thing that defines me.

Which was fine until I held Beatrice King in my arms and watched her mother walk away.

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