Page 25 of Legacy

I shouldn’t have admitted any of that. And as much as I’d like to blame it on the weak margaritas, if I’m being honest with myself, I just needed to get it off my chest.

Unfortunately for Jesse, he made himself the outlet for what’s been bottled up longer than even I realized.

“Long story short, we didn’t want for anything, but that didn’t mean my parents were particularly warm—especially my father,” I finish, dragging my teeth over my lower lip again.

Jesse nods, brushing his hands over his thighs. “I get that.”

“Your parents weren’t the warm and fuzzy type either?”

The chuckle that erupts from his chest is dark.

Haunted.

“Not even close. My dad was a legend to the club. And my mom was a dedicated wife. But neither of them knew how to raise a kid in this place. No one really does.” He scratches his jaw, and I wonder if he considers himself part of that statement.

“But you stayed here? You joined the Twisted Kings?”

He nods. “I did. But sometimes, I wonder if I did it because I wanted it or because I knew it would make him proud. Or maybe because all my friends were here. It was easier going along with expectations than trying to figure it out.”

That I understand. I’ve spent so much of my life taking the path of least resistance for everyone around me that I wonder how much of what I’ve done is out of desire or expectation.

Jesse’s gaze drifts to the fridge. To Bea’s drawings.

“It must be difficult raising her here,” I say, treading carefully.

“Half the time I don’t know if I’m doing it any better than him.”

“At least you’re trying,” I say, and his gaze connects with mine. “Or, it seems like it anyway.”

“I don’t want her feeling tied down like I did. I can fuck everything else in my life up so long as I don’t fuck things up for her. She needs to know she can chase her dreams—do what she wants. Who knows, maybe someday she will go live on a ranch, riding horses.”

The only time I get glimpses of Jesse in the way Margaret has framed him is when he talks about his daughter. Like right now.

“And what if she wants to be here? At a place like this with bikers and motorcycles?”

He slaps his hands on his thighs, standing up. “Then at least I’ll know it’s her decision.”

“True.” I nod.

“I’ve gotta get going. Ghost asked me to meet up with him at the clubhouse. But if Bea wakes up, can you text me?”

“Of course.”

Part of me is curious if that’s all he plans on doing while he’s out tonight, but I know it’s none of my business. Like he said, everyone needs an escape, and that’s how he gets it.

Jesse starts walking down the hallway but then pauses before turning the corner, looking back at me.

“You’re doing a lot around here, Reagan. Things you don’t even have to. It means something.”

“Is that you sayingthank you, Jesse King?” I bite back a smile.

“Guess so.” He smirks, raking his hand through his hair.

But he never actually says it as he turns and disappears. I think he’s under the impression those words will somehow make him vulnerable. Like if he says them, he’ll have to admit he needs me here, when he’d rather not need anyone.

It must be exhausting.

7

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