Page 125 of Legacy

Callum and Felicity laughed behind the bar, pulling drafts for family members as they milled about, and more town folk drifted along, some of them still judging. After all, the age gap between the two wasn’t that small. In fact, the significance of it might’ve made other people raise their brows as much as they were. But our family was no stranger to being the talk of the town, or doing some shit that made people sneer.

My sister Briar getting married after she had gotten pregnant, well, that had just been the tip of the iceberg. My own twin died in a fiery crash that some still mumbled under their breath that it could have been drugs.

Stupid fucking people. Malcolm hadn’t died of drugs. At least not on his end.

I rubbed my hand over my beard, wondering what I looked like underneath. After all, that’s what Malcolm would look like. He always liked to be clean-shaven. And perhaps I’d been somewhat the same. She’d liked me with a beard and without.

But she was gone. And I was too tired to care about anyone else. I’d be the selfish asshole that people thought I was.

I ran my hand over my nose ring, twisting the hoop slightly. I always did that when I needed to get out of a certain situation, needed space. Teagan usually called me on it, but she was too busy laughing at something Finnian and Sterling were saying. Each of the twins had one of Finnian’s girls on their hips, bouncing them around and making the girls giggle.

It was like a cut straight to the heart. Bile coated my tongue.

I loved my nieces. All three of them. And when the rest of my siblings began to have kids, I would love them.

But seeing them hurt.

Because my kids were supposed to be here. My kids were supposed to be alive. And laughing and joking and giggling. My eldest was supposed to be the oldest cousin. Watching over Briar and Finnian’s kids. And the baby wouldn’t be a baby anymore.

I blinked away tears, pissed off that I let my mind go down that path. I needed to wall it up. To force myself to just breathe, because if I didn’t, I would hurt those kids.

And I refused to do that.

“Wait. I know you.” A stranger blinked at me, her bright red hair flowing around her face as she leaned into one of the townspeople that I couldn’t name.

“Hmm?” I said, not bothering to do anything.

“Wait, you’re not him. Because he’s dead right? That drummer of that one band. But no, I know you.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, you’re that guy. Who they thought killed his wife and kids? But they ended up being wrong. Right?”

The room went silent as the drunk girl teetered on her heels.

“Sorry man,” the nameless townsperson muttered, and I set my water down, letting the ice shiver down my spine. It was better than the flames that had once licked there. The scars on my body twitched, a stamped memory of my failures.

“What the fuck man?” Sterling whispered as he tugged the guy away, hopefully taking the girl with them.

And now here I was, the center of fucking attention, and all I wanted to do was get out of here. Why did people have to fucking be here?

“Bodhi,” Teagan said as she came forward, hand outstretched.

I shook my head, drained my water, and turned on my heels. I knew where the back exit was. Hell, I always knew where the exits were.

I didn’t need their pitying stares or their judgments. Because nearly every fucking person in that room who was not related to me by blood or by heart, had believed. They called me a murderer. They called me my father’s name.

And they hadn’t even for a second thought that maybe somebody else had done it.

I bumped into a hard wall of muscle as I turned the corner and looked into Thatcher’s eyes. We were the same height, same build, and while Thatcher had a few scars, mine covered most of what was unseen beneath my clothes.

“Bodhi, let me walk you to your truck.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I only had one beer and a couple sips of another. I did my peopling.” I paused, a sourness filling my mouth. “Just let the others know I’m fine. Okay?”

“I’m not going to lie to them.”

“Then tell them I’m shitty. I don’t care. Your kids are in there. I know your parents brought them, so go hang out with them. You don’t have enough time with your kids, Thatcher.”

My friend winced but gave me a tight nod. After all, we used to be closer. Until he hadn’t been fast enough to save my family. Just like I hadn’t been.

Footsteps sounded behind me, and I knew exactly who they belonged to.