Page 12 of Fallen Legacy

“I love you. You know that right, but you need to open your eyes Kit, and see Wilbur for what he really is. Why do you think our dad ran away and never came back? Christ, he even changed his name to break ties with that man.”

“You’re wrong about him,” Kit’s voice rises in protest and a few people from the neighbouring tables glance our way. “He’s just trying to do what’s best for the family.”

I look over at Damon and he grimaces and bobs his shoulders as if telling me it’s useless to try to get Kit to see sense. “How about we have tea together tomorrow? Just the two of us,” I suggest, eager to spend some time with my brother.

He chews on his lip. “Oh, I can’t. Wilbur’s got us tickets for United’s away game tomorrow night.”

His rejection pierces my delicate heart, but I keep my poker face, and I force a smile. “Oh wow, that’s great, Kit. Maybe some other time.”

He nods his head enthusiastically. “Definitely. Maybe Thursday?” he suggests.

“Maybe,” I reply. The rejection I feel is making me defensive. “I’ll let you know.”

His face drops, and he looks down at the floor, swallowing. “Sure. I guess I’ll see you later.”

He walks away with his shoulders slumped, head down. It takes everything in me not to chase after him and grab him by the shoulders and try to shake some sense into him. Why can’t he see Wilbur for what he is? How can he be okay with any of this?

“He’ll come around,” Damon assures me, softly gripping my shoulder. “Just give it time.”

I clear my throat, battling with my emotions. What is happening to me? It’s like since I cried that night at the dinner party, I can’t stop. Every little thing has me tearing up. I need to shut this shit down and become a wall of steel again.

“I should tell him that Wilbur has threatened that if I don’t return that he said he’ll send him back to foster care. That would make him see sense.” I sigh. “But I can’t do it. I can’t devastate Kit like that. Look at him. He’s beaming from Wilbur’s attention.”

Damon frowns as he watches Kit take his seat beside his friends. “I don’t think he’d believe you if you told him, princess. He’s well and truly under Wilbur’s influence. One day he’ll realise, and you’ll just have to be there for him when he does.”

Damon’s right. Kit thinks the sun shines out of Wilbur’s arse right now. Nothing I say will change that. I just have to keep faith that Karma will makes it way to Wilbur at some point and that Kit will see for himself who his grandfather really is.

* * *

I’m makingmy way out to the front of school to meet up with Luca when I’m grabbed from behind. A hand covers my mouth to stop me from making a scene.

“I’m sorry Scar, but if this is the only way to get you alone, I’m taking it,” says a voice in my ear that haunts my dreams every night. I kick out and try to fight my way out of his hold, but it’s no good he has me in his iron grip.

“Do it now,” he orders, and I feel a sharp pain in my arm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Seb holding a syringe in his hand. “Just a little something to make you sleepy, Little Red.”

The fuckers have drugged me. Again! I will kill them both just as soon as I can open my fucking eyes. I fight the drowsiness with everything in me, but it’s no use. As my eyes close, the last thing I see is Archer’s face.

ELIZA

Isnuggle into the soft, warm pillows. Why do they smell so good? I inhale again and recognise whose scent it is. I sit up sharply, groaning, when the room spins. I’m in a bedroom I don’t recognise. I remember then. The bastard kidnapped me from school. Jumping out of the bed, I rush to the window. Where the hell am I? As far as the eye can see, there are trees and hills. He’s brought me to the middle of fucking nowhere. I look down and my anger ramps up a notch when I see I’m not in my school uniform anymore. I’m dressed in one of his long-sleeved plain T-shirts. His smell surrounds me and, like the pathetic creature I have become, I press my nose into my shoulder and inhale his scent.

I stomp over to the door and blink in surprise when it swings open with the force of my rage. I come out onto a large landing. There are doors to my left and right, and an oak staircase leads to the ground floor. I make my way downstairs and pause at the bottom when it opens out to a large open-plan living space. Even in my anger, I can’t help but appreciate the view. Where the two corners of the room meet, there are floor to ceiling windows that make the most of the beautiful scenery. It’s almost so perfect that it looks like a painting.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

My head snaps toward the sound of his voice. Archer is standing in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, with his perfect chest on display. He hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, and he has that five o’clock shadow that always sets my libido on high alert.

“Where the hell are we?” I growl. I stomp across the room to stand in front of him on the opposite side of the large kitchen island.

“You’re just in time. The food’s almost ready,” he tells me with a smile, completely ignoring my question.

“I’m not hungry,” I lie. “You can’t just kidnap me, Archer!”

His lip quirks up at the corner. If he smirks at me, I will take that knife beside him and stab him with it. “You wouldn’t talk to me, so I did what I had to.”

Sighing, I run my hands over my face. “Only you would resort to kidnapping. Take me home, Archer.”

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