Page 15 of Legacy

My oath to the club says my brothers should come before everything else, but one look into my baby girl’s eyes, and I knew moving forward nothing would come before her. I’d do anything to keep her safe.

With Margaret moving in to help, it was working out fine. I figured I’d get Bea to her eighteenth birthday before anything would disrupt it. But then Margaret’s sickness rattled what seemed unshakable.

Resting my head against the back of my chair, I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath.

Then another.

I try to count and find my center.

One. Two. Three. In.

One. Two. Three. Out.

I let it go.

I’ll fix this for her.

“Well, look who's up bright and early.” Chaos drops into the chair across the table from me with a smug grin on his face.

“It’s two in the afternoon,” I remind him.

He shrugs because, for him,that is early. “How's the farmer's daughter?”

“She’s from Glendale. Not a farm.”

“Well, that’s shitty. Farm girls are hot. And dirty.” He grins. “And they sure can ride a bull…”

While I was born and raised under the neon lights of Las Vegas, Chaos grew up on his family’s ranch, so I’m sure he knows. Still, I’m not entertaining this conversation.

“Fuck off.”

“Well, that’s a mood.” Soul walks into the room chuckling.

Havoc and Ghost trail behind him, both watching me.

“Legacy’s still pissy about the hot little farmgirl who walked into the clubhouse last night,” Chaos teases.

“Not a farmgirl,” I repeat.

It’s going to be a long afternoon at this rate.

I lean back in my chair, glaring at the men taking their seats around me. As much as I’d like them to let this go, I know them better than to think they actually will.

“She’s got your panties in a twist, Legacy. I like her.” Soul hums, smirking at me. “You know how to fix the problem and get her out of your system, right?”

“By ignoring any stupid advice that’s about to come out of your mouth.”

Soul doesn’t pause. “Bending her over and working out the tension.”

“Helpful as always.” Havoc chuckles, pulling his dark hair into a knot at the base of his skull.

“I’m just saying”—Soul shrugs—“there’s only one guaranteed way to get over whatever the girl’s doing to you—fuck her out of your system.”

“She’s Margaret’s great-niece. I’m not fucking her.” I level him with a stare. “Besides, she’s not my type.”

The room erupts in laughs because I’m full of shit.

They know it.

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