Page 69 of Property of Legend

Only I didn’t.I ended up kidnapped, heartbroken, and halfway convinced there’s something monstrous still roaming the woods.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” Sam says, handing me the flowers like they’re gonna fix what’s broken.“About us.About the future.”

I give him a tight smile and take the bouquet.“You’ve been good to me, Sam.Really.”

He looks hopeful.“So that’s a yes?”

I shake my head.“It’s a not right now.Maybe not ever.”

He sighs, posture stiff but still polite.“Is this about him?”

“No,” I lie.“It’s about me.”

He doesn’t push.He never does.And that’s part of the problem.

The next morning, I drive down to Official with a box of canned goods and hot trays of cornbread.The food bank's still low from Derby week, and with Daddy still in that hospital bed, this town’s the only place that feels halfway real.

Lex is outside unloading a van when I pull up.“If it ain’t Miss Montgomery herself,” he calls, grinning.“You bring the good stuff?”

“Six pans of it,” I say, handing him the first tray.“Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Then I hear it.That rumble.Low and gruff like a storm on the horizon.

Legend.

He rolls up on his Harley, dust trailing behind him like the devil's shadow.His beard's a little longer, his hair too, messier, but he’s still that same too broad, too dangerous shape that wrecks my composure every time.

He’s got a box of goods strapped to the back and a solemn look I can’t read.

“Wasn’t expectin’ to see you here,” I say, steadying my voice.

“Same,” he says, cutting the engine.“But I got somethin’ I need to say.”

Lex winks at me and takes the all cornbread inside.Legend’s eyes stay on me.

“You free for a bit?”

I nod.“Let me follow you.”

The outside of the Kings' clubhouse is a dump, but inside it's a party.I absentmindedly take a sip of this pink drink someone offered.It's probably dangerous.If not poison, it’s strong as all get out.But I’m trying to hide how unwelcome I still feel.

Legend sits beside me, distant, like he doesn’t know what to do with me now, he’s got me here.Maybe he’s waiting for me to finish this drink.

Damn.I’m paranoid.

But I know deep down this man doesn’t want to hurt me.

He hasn’t said he wants me back.Maybe he just wanted to clear his conscience.Maybe this is goodbye.

So, I do what any heart-shattered, bourbon-buzzed rich girl would do in a room full of outlaw women.

Downing my drink, I prove I’m just as wild.

Peeling off my jacket, I’m in just the fitted tank underneath.I strut through the room like I belong here, because screw him if he thinks I’m too soft to ride beside him.

Then she appears.

Becki.

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