Page 6 of Legacy
“A woman came looking for Legacy?” Duke sounded dumbfounded. “I wasn’t even sure he liked women.” Smiling ruefully, he held up his hands. “Sorry, brother, but I’ve never seen you with anyone.”
“Sure you have, the club girls—” Pocket started to argue, but Duke cut him off.
“I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about dating. You know, taking a girl out, licking her until she screams and comes knocking on the gates for round two.” His eyes twinkled. “You have been keeping secrets.”
I remained silent. There was no woman who would come knocking at these gates and asking for me. There hadn’t been for years. The club girls were different, and I eased some of the tensions of being a man in their tight little bodies, but all of them knew I wasn’t in the market for anything but a good time.
“Wasn’t a chick,” Pocket said. “Was a boy. A kid, actually,” he added when I shot him a surprised look.
“I don’t know any kids.” I shook my head. “Must’ve been a mistake.”
“Well, what can I say?” Pocket shrugged. “He asked for you by name. Your actual name. And you’re the only Elliot here. Maybe he got the wrong club. I told him to get back to school.”
“School? When was this?”
“The first time was this morning, according to one of the prospects. I spoke to him myself just after lunch. He said this was more important than school and I told him to run along and play with his train set.” Pocket chuckled.
Duke joined in with his laughter, but I didn’t. I had a horrible sinking feeling in my gut.
“Was probably a hang around. They are getting younger and younger these days. I wouldn’t worry about it, brother.” Duke chuckled. “Unless you’re thinking this is a paternity thing?”
I was worried, but not for the reason he was suggesting.
“What did he look like? Did he give you his name?”
Pocket didn’t turn his eyes on me. They remained fixed to a spot over my shoulder. “Ask him yourself.”
Twisting on my bike, I stared at the boy standing on the corner. Tall, with blond hair falling into his eyes, he was the spitting image of his brother, only younger, skinnier.
My eyebrows slammed down in a frown.
Sliding off the bike, I kicked the stand down. “I’ll be back.” Taking off at a trot, I was in front of him in seconds.
“Conner?” I couldn’t believe it was him. If he hadn’t looked so much like Paul, then I wouldn’t have recognised him. He had been an annoying little kid when I had seen him last. I was betting he was still an annoying kid, but he wasn’t small any longer.
Hands pushed deep into his pockets, he scuffed the toe of his black school shoes back and forth across the pavement. They already looked like they had seen better days and the friction wasn’t doing them any good.
“You remember me?” he asked, his voice small.
“Yeah.” I was about to say, of course, but closed my mouth on it. It had been ten years. He probably didn’t need or want to hear that I could still picture that frightened, sad little boy clinging to Kate at Paul’s funeral. “I’m surprised you remember me, though. You were only little when I last saw you.”
He shrugged.
“How did you know I would be here?”
Another shrug.
I sighed heavily. “Why are you here, Conner?” Reaching up, I ran my fingers through my hair. “A kid like you shouldn’t hang around places like this. Kate wouldn’t like it.”
He lifted his blue eyes to me. And to my dismay, they were filled with tears. “Kate is why I’m here.” His voice cracked and broke. The fear in it was clear. He was scared but trying not to show it. He wanted to be brave. One of the men.
He wanted my respect.
“Kate’s in trouble.”
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I waited for him to continue. He didn’t.
“Looks like you’ve been finding your fair share of trouble yourself, lad?” My eyes landed on the black eye. It didn’t look too bad, but I bet it had hurt like a bitch. “Have you been fighting?”
