Page 49 of Jealous God
“No, Erik, I can’t. Jax has made his true feelings about me very clear.”
Behind her, Legacy threw daggers at me.
“Just stay until the end of the tour, stay and we can sort all of this out,” Erik tried again.
“They go or me, Erik,” I repeated, and lifted my eyes to hers. My chest constricted. How could she still look so beautiful even when her eyes were red rimmed, and tears had left tracks in her makeup? How was that fair? She met my gaze with one of her own. And even though she had clearly been crying, there was no surrender in the look she met mine with. There was nothing but coldness. She really hadn’t cared about me at all. “Unless she wants to hang around and watch me fuck a real woman.”
“It's fine, Erik.” She lifted her eyes from mine and smiled up at him sadly. “I quit.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
Elodie
They lost my luggage. After an almost nine hour flight sitting next to my moody ass brother whilst I tried to hide the fact that I was still crying over some lousy rockstar who I had no business crying over, they had lost my bags.
And it was raining.
The raining part wasn’t that surprising. And it seemed very, very apt. At least with the rain pouring down, my tears would be hidden. And I wouldn’t have to put up with Legacy huffing and giving me side eyes like I was some stupid schoolgirl.
“Well, what the hell am I meant to do now?” I groaned. But I wanted to scream, to throw a full-on tantrum in the middle of the terminal. Instead, I hugged myself and shivered. It was cold after the heat of Miami. And I was exhausted, which just made it worse. I felt like I could and probably should sleep for a week.
Throwing his own backpack on the floor, Legacy started rummaging through it, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was looking for. It had been surprising that he had gone for so long without wearing it. Club was life after all. The Savage Sons wasn’t just a motorcycle club to him, they were family. A way of life, and one I was no longer a part of. Pulling something soft and black out of the bottom of his bag, he tossed it in my direction.
I caught it just before it hit me in the face and slipped the soft, well-worn hoodie over my head. Idly, I fingered the motif on the front. Of course, it was the Savage Sons logo embroidered in white.
“We go home.” Legacy stared up at me from where he was crouching.
I crumpled. I couldn’t help it. My body literally folded in on itself. I doubled over, clutching at my stomach. Home. I didn’t have a damn home. My new place wouldn’t be ready for another week at least, and even then, I couldn’t afford it now. I had been relying on the bonus Erik had promised me for getting Dion through the tour to secure it. I had lost my job, been called a slut by a man I had thought cared about me, and now I was homeless. All within a twenty-four-hour period. As days went, mine was top of the shitty charts.
“Hey, hey, come on.” Legacy lifted me easily to my feet. His arm was heavy and soothing as he held me. “It’s going to be ok, El. That jerk didn’t deserve you. You know that.”
I bit back a laugh because there he was, my ex-marine, big bad biker brother trying to comfort me because I was his sister and he didn’t want to see me upset. It was almost comical. Especially when half of it was his fault.
I sighed at the thought. No, not his fault. All mine. I should have been honest from the start and told the band about my family ties to the club. At the very least, I should have told Jax. I still wasn’t sure what had stopped me. The stigma? No, that wasn’t it. It was more the fact I had spent ten years trying to distance myself from who my family was. Hell, I wouldn’t have been able to do half the things I did, or help people if they had known my affiliation with the Sons.
“Not crying over him,” I managed to mumble, wiping my nose on the sleeve of his hoody like the sophisticated woman I was. “At least not only about him.” Untangling myself from his arms, I shot him a rueful smile. “I have nowhere to stay, Legacy. I…”
He shrugged his black cut over his shoulders and it was like a weight was lifted from him. A weight I hadn’t noticed before. It was so familiar, that cut, even when I had never seen him wear one. Fresh tears sprang up into my eyes.
“You look like him.” I clamped my hand over my mouth so I didn’t sob out loud and attract any more attention to myself. “You look just like Emmett.”
Legacy just continued to stare at me. His eyes were soft. “That happens with twins, El.” He tapped the tip of my nose. “I miss him every single fucking day, you know.”
Yeah, I did know. Because I felt the same. But I couldn’t imagine the pain Legacy went through daily. I didn’t have to look in the mirror and see a dead boy looking back at me.
“I never wanted the club for you. He didn’t either.” I touched the tips of my fingers to the soft leather. “Prospect?” I frowned, glancing up at him. “You haven’t fully patched in yet?”
“I know, El, but these things happen. Life happens.”
I got that life happened whether you wanted it to or not, but Elliot, or Legacy as he was now known, was meant to be the one who got away. He was meant to have a career in the military and settle down with a pretty wife and two point four kids and…
“But why are you still prospecting? Our family has been—”
He cut me off. “You know what dad is like, El. He wants to punish me, prove to the club that I will break and run away again.”
Yeah, that sounded like our dad. He wasn’t a bad man exactly. He just ran by his own moral compass. There was no room in his life for softness and compassion. Not even where his own grieving children were concerned. I had run without looking back, and cut him almost completely out of my life, but Legacy had gone back, and I was in no doubt that our father had been making his life a living hell ever since.
“You should run. You should get as far away from them as possible,” I mumbled to myself more than him.
