Page 69 of Legacy

Am I willing to let anyone fill that role just to pacify what people expect?

Fuck no.

Not that Reagan is just anyone. But she came here for her great-aunt. For a job. She doesn’t need more responsibility in her life. And Bea doesn’t need another person who might just leave her behind.

Digging my hand in my hair, I let out a sigh. “After all that shit with Sera, I told myself I’d be smarter than this.”

“Reagan’s not Sera.”

“Don’t I know it.” Sera seemed nice when we met. But at the time, I was partying so much that I didn’t really look past her smile or willingness to fuck. We were young and dumb. “Reagan’s the opposite of Sera. She cares so much about everything. She’s so fucking trusting and sweet and warm.”

“Your opposite.” Havoc chuckles.

“She makes me stupid.”

“The right woman will have that effect.” The way he says it makes me think he knows something about it, but I’ve never seen Havoc hung up on a woman, so I must be imagining it.

“I don’t know how this could work with her, but I don’t know how to let her go either.”

Havoc hums, staring out the front window. “Only thing worse than pain is regret.”

“What do you regret, brother?”

“Plenty.” He rests his head back, not elaborating.

We’re quiet the rest of the ride. I’m lost in thoughts of Reagan, while Havoc stares out the window with vacancy that seems like he’s remembering a different time in his life.

The sun is about to set as I drop Havoc at the clubhouse. He’s still quiet when he climbs out, and it’s clear there’s something on his mind, but I don’t push.

I circle the property until I reach the neighborhood and try to tell myself I’m doing the right thing. Even as I climb out of the truck and smell what Reagan’s cooking for dinner in the air, I try to resist that constant reminder that she’s too good for me.

I start the path up the front steps when my phone chimes with a text from Mom confirming the dates of her flight in a few months. It’ll be one of the handful of times she’s been back to the compound since Dad died.

If it wasn’t for Bea, I don’t think she’d come back at all. She loves me, but she doesn’t miss it here, and I get it after how my father was with her.

King was a shining example of how not to treat the people you’re supposed to care about. Something all too common when you’re involved with the Twisted Kings.

My stomach sours as my thoughts turn to Reagan.

Like Mom, she’s too fucking good for this place. She deserves more from the world—from a relationship.

She’d never be happy with a man like me.

20

Reagan

“Does this work?” Istop in the archway to the kitchen and brush my hands over the front of my dress.

Jesse’s eyes snap up from his phone, flaring at the sight of me. His gaze sears as it trails down, pausing at the hem of my very short, very tight black dress. The thinnest straps hold it on my shoulders, while the dress hugs every curve. The only pop of color comes from my cherry red pumps, which match my lips.

Since Jesse has made a point to mention on multiple occasions how sweet I look in sundresses, I decided to change it up tonight, and clearly, my plan to tease him in a new way is working.

After all, we’re going downtown in Vegas on a Saturday night and stopping at the Twisted Kings strip club on the way to the bar. I don’t want to be sweet and breakable. I want to look the part.

Jesse lifts off the stool at the island and walks over to me. With every step, I swear my dress hugs my body tighter. And when he pauses in front of me, my breath stutters. I can hardly handle his gaze, much less the delectable scent of his cologne.

Jesse reaches for my face, brushing his fingers down a blonde curl that ends at my shoulder. While I usually wear it up, I let it down tonight, only pinning it off my face with a simple clip.

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