Page 34 of Legacy

But it’s not out of fear.

Something else stirs when our gazes connect. His expression cracks, and my heart tightens in my chest. It’s clear the blood isn’t his, seeing as he’s standing tall and unaffected, but it doesn’t erase the scars that are inevitably left behind.

With the dark hallway between us and all his secrets standing at the other end, I should be terrified. Instead, I want to close the gap and hold his hand.

I want to do anything to erase that look in his eyes.

Distance.

Regret.

We stare at each other.

Me with a million questions.

Jesse with blood on his hands.

After a long pause, he tips his head to the staircase, indicating he’s going to clean up. I nod, not saying anything so Bea doesn’t noticehim like this.

I’m still standing frozen at the end of the hallway when I hear the shower start upstairs, and I wonder what happens on nights when there is no buffer to distract Bea or stop her from running to the door. What would she think if she saw him like that?

What does he think of it?

I can’t decide what troubles me more: how Jesse got that way or how he deals with Bea’s questions.

By the time Jesse comes back downstairs, he’s in a fresh T-shirt and dark-gray sweatpants. There are a few scratches on his arms, but other than that, there’s no indication of the bloody mess he just washed off.

I’m still standing in the kitchen, drying the same glass for the hundredth time, as he circles to meet me on the other side of the island. And with Bea still absorbed in her movie, she has yet to notice.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He keeps his voice low, clearing his throat.

He rakes his fingers through his wet, dark-blond hair, and I catch the scent of his woodsy shampoo.

It’s too much to be near him.

To smell him.

He’s gorgeous.And lethal.

I really should fear him.

“It’s your house.” I avoid his eyes, setting the dish on the counter. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

From the corner of my eye, I see him nod. We stand shoulder to shoulder in silence for a beat. I’m facing the sink, while he’s facing the living room, and I wonder how he reconciles coming home to Bea on nights like this.

“Are you… okay?” I ask finally.

It might not be appropriate, but I can’t help it.

“I’m fine.”

“And—” I swallow hard, steadying my breath. “The other person?”

His silence is his answer.

I look up at Jesse. Those bright-blue eyes of his burn with a truth that should make me run. But instead of seeing his actions, I see the man behind them. A man who has done the unthinkable, and still, I trust him explicitly with the safety of the people in this house.

I don’t fear him.

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