Page 131 of Legacy

“What did she want?”

“Drugs.”

I shake my head. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is about a few pills? Fucking hell.”

“Havoc will pay her off then we’ll call it in and let the cops get her.”

Usually, the club avoids anything dealing with law enforcement, but I can understand why Steel made the call. It’s the best way to deal with Sera without having to actually deal with her ourselves.

Steel’s phone chimes, and he pulls it out. “We have a location.”

“Assuming she’s not leading us into a trap.”

“At this point, I’m not putting anything past her.”

“Me either, but we’re out of options.” And Sera knows it.

Steel starts yelling orders, coordinating the club. And while he does, I turn my gun over in my hands.

This piece is my oldest friend.

The one good lesson I learned from my father.

I grip my gun and imagine a bullet sinking into the forehead of anyone who dares touch Reagan. The thought has me eerily calm.

I’m going to get her back.

I’m going to save her.

And when I do, I hope she still wants this life because I’m never letting her go again.

38

Reagan

The fact that thescreaming has silenced isn’t comforting. If anything, the quiet hurts more because they never brought the blonde woman back downstairs, and any reason for that can’t be good.

A whole day has passed, and night fell hours ago, deepening the darkness in the basement. The small amount of natural light that shone through a barred window on one side is gone, and the dim bulb that hangs overhead does next to nothing.

“You’re calm,” Aimee says, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the iron bars.

“So are you,” I point out.

She hums, tipping her head to look at me. “There’s no point being anything else.”

The door creaks at the top of the stairs, and we both jump to our feet. Mine almost move out from under meas blood rushes to my head. I’m hungry and dehydrated, and the nausea hasn’t subsided.

Aimee and I both stand with our backs as far from the stairs as we can be as the man walks down them. In the cages around the room, the girls do the same, scooting back with their eyes widening.

He pauses at the bottom step, and I recognize him as the man who tried to grab me earlier—the one Aimee stopped.

An unholy grin stretches his cheeks when his gaze lands on me.

The hair on my arms stands on its ends. Every cell in my body is on alert.

His very presence with this club tells me he’s dangerous, but the sick gleam in his gaze terrifies me even more. This time, when he steps closer, I pay attention to every detail.

The scar on his chin. The malice in his eyes.

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