Page 94 of Precious Legacy

Now that the rumors have confirmed Prescott isn’t actually on vacation or sick leave, I’m growing more and more nervous that it’s something more sinister. It’s not that Prescott doesn’t deserve whatever Roman dishes out. The man is a top tier asshole, and the fact he tried to not only humiliate me in front of the class, but take his obvious hatred for my family out on me, is what I cling onto. But I’ve been trying so damn hard to prove I’m not like Roman, or Varo, or my dad. I’m not a criminal, but making him pay would be incredibly satisfying.

“Sav,” I huff, quirking a brow at her.

“What? I’d be surprised if he didn’t have that guy bleeding out!”

Sometimes I wonder whether she actually thinks before she speaks. Talking about my criminal boyfriend surely goes against some code when you’re around police— not that it stopped my aunt Lexie. Lucky for us, we’re not officially police officers yet.

“You did tell him what happened?” Sav questions dubiously.

“I did,” I reply nervously. “But he assured me he wouldn’t get involved.”

Savannah scoffs as she swings her bag over her shoulder. “Like that’s ever stopped a man like him before.”

Shit.She’s right. Roman doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to staying out of things, especially when itcomes to me. Ashton Greedy went missing because of him, and I’m certain he’s not going to be making an appearance anytime soon. Roman doesn’t necessarily act before thinking, so he’s definitely had time to consider his next move. What pisses me off more is he thinks I can’t handle Prescott on my own.

It’s six o’clock by the time I get home. The place is empty, as usual, meaning Roman is off doing Roman things. My immediate thoughts go to Prescott and whether the two are connected. It wouldn’t surprise me, but I know if I ask him about it, he’ll just lie to me or be deliberately vague.

Pulling my phone out of my bag, I click on my brother’s contact. I’d like to think I can trust him to tell me if he knows anything about my missing training officer, but even I’m not naïve enough to think he won’t tell Roman if I start asking specific questions. I stare at the screen for what feels like too long before I decide how smart I need to play this.

Me: Have you seen Ro?

I tap my fingers impatiently on the countertop as I perch at my kitchen island. The dancing spots on my phone screen catch my attention, only there for a few seconds before a reply comes back.

Varo: Yes, we’re at The Ravenite. Why?

Me: No reason.

It’s a total lie, but it gives me the element of surprise. I doubt Prescott will be there, but if I can at least look Roman in the eyes and squeeze the truth out of him, I’ll feel a little better. I just hope he’s not behind this.

Shoving on a pair of jeans and a tee, I grab my leather jacket and bike keys from beside the door and head out. Luckily, theclub isn’t too far from my place, and I manage to make it there in twenty minutes. Every mile I close in, my thoughts grow frantic because I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know how I’m going to react, and I sure as shit don’t know if Roman is truly behind this.

Baz is already at the front door, frowning at me as I switch off the bike engine and slip my helmet off. “Bit early,” he comments gruffly.

“I’m here to see a man about a dog,” I reply sarcastically, pushing past him. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop me, which I almost wish he had because no sooner have I reached the steps that lead to the basement do I start to get a bad feeling. Add that to the groans echoing towards me and my palms become a sweaty mess.

I push through the door carefully, spotting my brother immediately. Slowly, my eyes move to Roman, then to the body he’s blocking. His sharp blue eyes gravitate towards me like a storm roiling through a sea. There’s no stopping the anger that rolls off of him as he approaches, still blocking whoever he has in that chair.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Roman growls, caging my face between his palms. It’s then that I notice the blood decorating his crisp white shirt; the coldness of his steel knuckle dusters pressing against my skin. Fear wraps around my vocal chords as I glance at my brother over his shoulder.

“We need to talk,” I say with a shaky breath.

“Not now.”

A cough wheezes through the room and it’s the distraction I need to sidestep Roman. I wish I hadn’t. I wish I’d done as I was told. I wish I’d stayed away, and never even thought about coming here, because not knowing is far better than what my eyes land on.

My blood runs cold and the frigid sensation of fear holds me in place. My voice is barely a whisper as my next words tumble out, but it’s loud enough for Roman to hear.

“What did you do?”

THIRTY-SIX

Ihad every intention of staying out of Alanis’ business when it came to Prescott. She can handle herself, and while I was pissed about the turn of events, I knew she was right. I’ve already taken vengeance from her and I know she needs to manage her situation at the academyherway.

Unfortunately, when Cillian came to me earlier today with information from our mole about a certain training officer getting paid under the table by the Russians, I couldn’t keep my promise to Presh anymore.

Gracie has been tracking the Russians’ movements through the city. Impressively, yet not surprisingly, she was able to hack into the city’s surveillance software, ClearView. Now she has eyes on them and we’ll be notified if they so much as breathe in the wrong direction. Unfortunately, we still don’t have much on Milo Kyrovsky, and that’s the part that is eating at not only me, but Varo, too.

If Milo is undercover, then our problem is a hell of a lot bigger than just the Russians. Navigating things with them has been challenging enough, but if we find out we have a cop sniffing around, there’s only so much we can do. The Five havemanaged to pay their way out of most situations when it comes to the NYPD. Whoever Milo isreallyworking for could be bigger than that, and there’s no escaping the potential disaster it could bring.

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