Page 22 of Fallen Legacy

I’m about to tell him where to shove his smiling face when Seb drops into the seat beside me, closely followed by Rafe. Vee loiters at the bottom of the table, watching my reaction before she pushes back her shoulders and sits beside Archer.

“This table’s crowded today,” Damon comments as he takes the remaining seat to my left. He looks sideways at me. “You, okay?”

I nod my head, knowing what he’s asking me. When I look up, I find Archer coldly observing the interaction between Damon and me.

“What?” I snap at him. “You got something to say?”

He shakes his head and returns to eating his food. Laughing and hollering coming from the table my brother sits on snags my attention. Chester is there again. His arm hung over my brother’s shoulder as he says something to him, and they both laugh.

“I don’t like his interest in Kit. He’s up to something,” I say, watching the two of them laughing together like old friends.

“I’ll sort it,” Archer announces. He stands up and strides across the cafeteria to my brother’s table. He smiles down at Kit and the two of them exchange words. I watch as Archer gestures with his head over to where I am. Kit gets to his feet and picking up his tray, he lets Archer guide him over to our table.

“Hey, sis,” he says as he takes a seat opposite me. Rafe and Vee shuffle along to make room for him and, a second later, Archer takes a seat beside him.

“Hi, Kit,” my voice clogs up with emotion. I miss my little brother so much. He’s been the centre of my life for so long now that it’s hard not having him around. “How are you? How’s football?”

He grins at me as he tells me he’s made the first team for the home game this weekend.

“That’s amazing, Kit. Though they’d have to be stupid not to want you playing.”

He nods his head and scratches his nose, a sure sign that he wants to say something, but he’s unsure.

“Spit it out,” I tell him with a reassuring smile.

“You could come to my game and cheer me on,” he suggests. His eyes are full of apprehension as he waits for my reply.

“I have no plans this weekend. You free Damon?”

Damon pulls his attention from his phone and looks at me. “Sorry, I’m working for my dad this weekend.”

“We’re free, right Archer?” Vee chips in, her eyes focused on Archer.

“Oh, yeah, we can bring Scar to the game and cheer you on, Kit,” Archer suggests.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Kit tells him, smiling from ear-to-ear. Archer Savage, the sneaky fucker, has wound his way into my plans again.

ELIZA

It’s early Saturday morning. We pull up into the car park and Damon kills the engine and waits silently. I blow out the breath I have been holding as I eye the private clinic.

“I’m scared,” I admit to him.

Damon wraps his hand over mine. “I’m here with you. You’re not on your own, Eliza.”

I clear my throat and I say what has been on my mind all morning. “Can I ask a favour?” He nods his head. “Can you pretend to be the father? Just for the scan.” I look down at my stomach. “I just don’t want them to judge me as some washed up girl who’s single and pregnant.”

“Eliza, look at me,” he says softly, and I lift my face to meet his eyes. “I told you I’m here for you. If you need me to be the dad, then that’s what I’ll be.”

I lean over the car and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

He smiles, swallowing. “Yes, you do. You deserve people in your corner. I wish you’d stop all this talk that you don’t deserve to have people who care.” He picks his phone up out of its holder. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

We enter the clinic hand in hand and head over to a reception desk. I give my name, the one on my birth certificate, and we take a seat in the waiting area. I gulp when we take a seat across from a heavily pregnant woman. She looks to be early thirties, and she’s sitting reading a book as she waits for her appointment. She rubs her swollen belly, and my eyes fixate on her stomach. What will I look like heavily pregnant? Would I be one of those women who is all bump, or would I put on weight everywhere? The harsh reality of my situation hits me. I have a baby growing inside of me. A real life, human being. A little person who is half of me and half of Archer.

“Miss Holton,” a female voice announces, pulling me from my thoughts. Damon squeezes my hand as we stand and walk over to where the friendly-looking doctor waits for us. “Come through and take a seat.”

We enter a small office that has a desk and two comfy chairs on one side, and an office chair on the other. On the wall are various posters about pregnancy and birth. She places her arms on the table and looks at me.

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