Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

T he echo of footsteps is like a soundtrack to my impending doom. I’ve been here for hours, staring at the crusty ceiling above me and counting how many mold spots I can see. It’s all I can do to keep my mind occupied until my brother gets me out of here. Since he couldn’t locate Roman when I spoke to him on the phone, and he sure as shit can’t just walk in here, all I have is his word that he’ll fix this. I don’t even know what that means at this point, but all I can think about is the fact that I’m fucked.

I’m as good as done with the academy if this gets back to Chief Madden—which it probably will—and then I’ve got nothing to lose. Even though I haven’t done anything wrong, being in the wrong place at the wrong time is enough to put a strike on my record. But this, I’ll be kicked out of the program faster than I got into this mess in the first place. There’s no way out of this, and that thought leaves a kind of emptiness I don’t know how to fill. I’ve wanted to be an officer for years, eager to hold some semblance of meaning in my life that doesn’t involve the empire my father and uncles built. To get real justice for what happened to me. If I lose that, I have no idea what I’ll do.

I’ve tried so fucking hard to keep a low-profile at the academy by covering my tracks, including my name. And now it’s all about to blow up in my face. In a matter of seconds—or hours, as it stands right now—my entire life has changed. Again . And it wasn’t even my fault.

Laying on the cold metal bench, I run my fingertips over the sore spots on my wrists. The frigid hardness digs into my back as I stare at the faint red marks on my skin from where Officer Prescott was not-so-gentle with me.

He’s never let on that he remembers me from that night, not officially anyway. Aside from my first day where I could have sworn I saw a flicker of recognition, he’s made no attempt to confront me or even talk to me.

I set my own problems aside to focus on a more pertinent worry; Roman. I haven’t seen him since I was shoved into the back of the squad car. Not since he collapsed to the ground in agony in an effort to protect me. I’m practically shaking with fury as I recall how hard he hit the ground when the officer smacked him in the head with his gun.

Sure, he wasn’t exactly complying, but he wasn’t fighting them, either. He didn’t want me to go down with him and he didn’t want me to get hurt. He wanted me to run, and I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Footsteps echo down the narrow corridor that leads to my cell. Keys jangle, and this time I perk up at the sound, pushing to sit upright and rearranging my dress.

“Caruthers!” Prescott barks as he stands in front of me, the bars the only things preventing me from punching that smug smirk off his face. “Or should I say Bonanno?”

I level him with a glare, masking my anxious thoughts that tell me this guy is definitely up to no good. I might be nervous as hell on the inside, but I won’t let him see it. If there’s one thing my dad taught me, it’s never to show your cards to your enemies, and Prescott is my enemy.

Stalking towards the bars, I’m about to sling some snarky retort about using that threatening tone when he uses my name, but then a second set of footsteps catch my attention. My eyes widen, and that fear I’ve just suppressed comes rising to the surface so quickly I think I might hurl.

“Are you done with my daughter?” Mom snaps at Prescott. “Or do I need to speak to the commissioner about conspiring to obstruct justice?”

So this is what Varo meant about fixing things.

Prescott doubles back, his brows rising so high they almost hit his hairline. He glances back at me, but I’m just as shocked to see my mom standing with her hands on her hips like she’s two seconds away from tearing his balls off.

She taps her heeled toe on the floor while clutching a winter coat in one arm. Considering it’s three in the morning, she looks like she’s dressed for war, courtroom style. With a full trouser suit and freshly made face, I can see now how she became so successful. She looks harmless until she opens her mouth, and with a glare that could cut through steel, she’s fucking lethal.

Clearing her throat, she raises a brow impatiently at Prescott, who shifts nervously in response.

For a moment, they’re locked in a staring match, neither one backing down. But then Prescott relents, rolling his eyes as he steps up the door and shoves the key in the lock. “Wait until the Chief hears about this,” he grumbles under his breath as he turns the key and yanks the door open.

As soon as it swings wide, I push past him, making a beeline for my mom. She clutches my hand immediately, moving me behind her like she’s my human shield. “Go ahead,” she sneers. “I’m sure he’d love to know about you aiding and abetting your brother.”

I freeze up, shock and suspicion coursing through my veins. When it comes to my mom, I should know better than to discount her abilities. She got my dad out of a difficult situation before, so I can’t be surprised that she always has something up her sleeve. Apparently, whatever she has on Prescott is enough to make him just as uncomfortable as I feel.

His jaw clenches and he immediately shuts up, slamming the jail door behind us while the sound echoes down the long corridor.

I’m left suspended in awe. Watching a grown man get verbally beaten by my mom has got to be the highlight of my night—not that the bar was set very high. By the time I’ve managed to collect my thoughts, mom is marching down the corridor and out of the precinct. I rush after her, collecting my phone and purse from the front desk on the way and avoiding eye contact with the officers on duty.

As soon as we step outside, I feel the cold air bite at my skin. My cheeks flush with heat and I let out a relieved sigh. I amble after my mom, who’s pacing towards the Range Rover parked by the sidewalk.

“Mom?” I frown, pausing my steps as I stare at the blacked-out windows.

Stepping towards me, she wraps her coat around my shoulders and offers me a warm smile. “Are you okay?” she asks sweetly, cupping my cheek.

I nod silently, leaning into her touch. I’m still reeling over how my mom just bulldozed and owned Prescott’s ass. It’s a shame Dad isn’t here, because I know he’d have loved to see that. I dart a wary glance at her, clutching the coat tighter to my body. With the winter chill setting, the air is crisper. I really should’ve thought about wearing warmer clothes tonight. “Dad?—”

“Your dad’s at home,” she supplies. “And Haldon is working on Roman’s bail.”

Relief washes over me. I don’t know how she can read my mind all the time. Maybe it's my mother's instinct or intuition, but I find myself automatically relaxing. Dad and I have only just repaired our broken relationship. For the past six weeks, I’ve been making as much of an effort as I can to prove that my decision to join the police isn’t a mistake. I’ve spent most Sundays having family dinners, regaling the details of my weeks at the academy. I’ve been excelling, ranking in the top five percent of my class for marksmanship and defense tactics, and Dad’s been irrefutably impressed.

Is that about to change?

“You’re not mad?” I ask warily.

Mom scoffs and turns on her heel, reaching for the car door. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to bail a Bonanno out.”

My lips kick up in a knowing smile as she pulls the door open for me. I know Dad has seen the inside of a cell more than once, and my brother has been arrested a handful of times. But it’s a first for me, and I seriously thought she’d be pissed about it—Dad, too.

“Besides, we wouldn’t be Bonanno’s if we didn’t visit a jail cell at least once, right?” Gesturing for me to get in, I obey and slide into the passenger’s seat, not questioning what she means by that statement. The seats are still warm from where mom’s obviously had the heater on, and I immediately sink into the plush leather, humming to myself as my ass presses into the seat.

“I tried to get here sooner,” Mom explains. “As soon as Varo called me, I was on the phone?—”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad to be out of there,” I murmur.

With a smile, she starts the car. “Then let’s get you home.”

We let the silence envelop us. I’m tired and worried, and filled with anxious energy, but Mom doesn’t say another word as she drives. It’s like she can sense I need to be alone with my thoughts right now, and I appreciate the hell out of her for that. I need to assess my situation, work out my next steps, because come Monday, I’m not so sure I’ll have a spot in the academy. Being involved in illegal gambling is one thing, but to get caught up in a raid, whether I’m guilty of gambling or not, is definitely inappropriate.

Not to mention how they now know my real name.

To distract myself, I pull out my phone from my purse and check the missed calls and messages. Most of them are from Haven, but I notice one from my brother, telling me he’s waiting at my apartment. There’s nothing from Roman, though, and my heart squeezes in my chest, aching with the fear that he hasn’t been released yet.

It’s no secret how attached we’ve become to one another. He’s pretty much moved in with me, and I don’t mind it one bit. I’ve found a way out of my twisted hate for him and delved into something deeper. It’s something I didn’t think was possible until tonight, because loving Roman was never my plan. Which is probably why I feel so hollow as we pull up outside my building, knowing he isn’t waiting inside for me.

A hand comes to rest on mine and when I look up, Mom’s face is soft with sympathy. “He’s going to be okay,” she says with a smile.

“I hope so,” I reply quietly.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

My brows furrow. I don’t really know what happened other than the police coming in and raiding the fight club. Aside from the fact the police were clearly after him. The raid was purely to catch Roman, probably my brother and Haldon, too. “I don’t know. The police just?—”

“I don’t mean tonight, Lani.”

My eyes shoot to hers and the softness that fills her gaze chokes me up.

“Something happened, didn’t it?” she questions, making me frown harder. “And that’s your motivation for joining the force.”

I swallow back the thickness suddenly clogging my throat. All I can do is nod, because the fear of actually answering her and my voice cracking is paralyzing.

Taking my hand in hers, she squeezes it comfortingly. “I recognize trauma, sweetheart. Whatever you went through, it wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to tell me right now because I understand how hard it is, but I’d like to think that one day you can talk about it. When you’re ready, you know I’m always going to be here, ready to listen.”

My eyes grow hot, glazing over with the tears I’m forcing back. I feel like a mess; a pitiful cocktail of guilt and suppressed pain that’s ready to spill over. And I’m ready to let it. I’ve been masking the pain for so long, using hate as a weapon rather than actually facing my trauma head on. Using it as motivation to seek justice was the only thing keeping me focused, and since I’m probably about to lose that, I need to find another coping mechanism.

Staring up at my apartment window, I spot my brother standing inside, watching us. Keeping my secret from him is probably hurting him as much as it’s hurting me. I know I can trust my twin. I know he’ll want to exact revenge because the two minutes that make him my older brother also make him incredibly protective over me.

“Can we go inside?” I ask my mom.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

We head towards my apartment, and the fifteen steps it takes to get to the second floor is the most daunting I’ve ever experienced. The moment my key twists in the lock, the door swings open and Varo wraps me in a hug. It’s tight and suffocating, but I don’t push away. I revel in his comfort until he pulls away.

“Any update on Roman?” Mom asks, heading into the kitchen where she turns the coffee machine on. Even though coffee is the last thing I want, it’s probably exactly what I need.

“Not yet,” Varo confirms as he walks me to the couch. “He was taken to another precinct.”

I swallow nervously.

He glances past me to where Mom is busying herself in the kitchen, frowning when he returns his gaze to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” I sigh. “I…umm…” I take a deep breath just as our Mom places two mugs of coffee on the table in front of us. “There’s something I need to tell you… both of you.”

A hand rests on my shoulder. When I look up, Varo is peering at me, gaze filled with sympathy. “What’s going on, Lani?”

Taking my mug, I let the warmth seep into my palms, soothing my bones and my nerves. I shove back the fear of reopening old wounds. This is my family; people I can trust. They’ve done nothing but protect me, and I know I owe them my honesty. But what if that’s the problem? What if by telling them, I make them feel like they’ve failed to keep me safe?

No. I have to do this.

Mom takes a seat on the armchair, silently waiting for me to open up, and I appreciate the hell out of her patience. I’ve not been the easiest daughter, I know that. But I also know how lucky I am to have her in my life, and that’s what I cling to as I finally tear open the pathetic band-aid of suppression.

“Five years ago, I… I went to The Ravenite.” I glance up at my mom, but her expression remains calm and collected, patient in a way I’ve never seen before. “I was angry at Roman because he was leaving, so I drank way too much and…” I shake my head in an effort to organize my spiraling thoughts. “Some guys came onto me. I didn’t know who they were at the time, but they were pushy and crude, and I wasn’t as strong then as I am now.”

Varo sucks in a deep breath beside me. Catching his gaze, he nods for me to continue, his hand rubbing soothing circles between my shoulder blades.

“The guys dragged me into the alley beside the club. I couldn’t…” I catch my breath, not realizing how hard it is to retell this part. The first time I recalled what happened, it was to Haven, and we both cried together, sharing the trauma and attempting to ease my burden.

When I told Roman, the comfort and support I felt as he wrapped his arms around me eased the shame and fear I felt as the words spilled. It’s like each time I open up, the wound gets a little easier to manage. It no longer feels like I’m tearing myself apart, reliving every damn moment of that awful night. Bit by bit, I actually feel like I’m moving to a better place—at least in my mind I am.

“They attacked me. Physically. Sexually,” I glance at Varo, then to my mom. “I don’t remember much after that, but I remember waking up in a hospital bed with Haven beside me. She was the first person I called when I came to and I made her promise to keep it to herself. I wanted to tell you, but the more that time passed, the more I just wanted to forget about what happened. And then Ashton Greedy became this overnight boxing superstar, and I just couldn’t go back there.”

Tears freefall down my face, but it’s not pain spilling free, it’s relief. Relief that my secret is out, that it feels easier to breathe around my brother. The guilt dissolves as I look into the soft green eyes of my mom, and it’s like she said before, talking about it has made me feel loads better.

“Fuck, Lani!” Varo slams his fist down on the arm of the couch, breaking the quietude. He shoots up and begins pacing back and forth as he runs a hand through his hair. “Ashton fucking Greedy? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was broken, Vee. I felt ashamed and guilty and…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Mom comes to sit beside me, taking my mug from my hands and resting it on the table. She pulls me against her chest and wraps me in a hug. It’s like a balm to my soul, calming my thoughts and nerves instantly. She doesn’t question me on how she missed it. The truth is, I hid it for so long until the scars of my past were no longer visible.

“I’m okay,” I reassure.

“You’ve had to see his face plastered around the city, fight after fight!” Varo’s voice is raspy, like it’s filled with regret and guilt, along with the unfiltered rage he’s trying to control. “I feel like the shittiest brother right now.”

“Varo,” Mom scolds.

“Sorry. It’s not about me. I just…” He shakes his head and joins the huddle, squeezing me gently like he’s afraid I might break. “I’m real fucking sorry, Lani.”

“It’s not your fault,” I sniffle, pulling away from the embrace to catch a breath. I swallow hard, still feeling the residual guilt plague my words. “It’s funny, though. For a while, I blamed Roman. If he hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have been in that situation, and…” I shrug.

“Well, at least he’s redeemed himself,” my brother comments.

“Huh?” I snap my gaze to him, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” I look to Mom, but she’s wearing the same look of confusion as I am.

“Didn’t you know?” Varo frowns. “Greedy went missing last week, it’s been all over the news.”

I inhale deeply, but somehow the breath gets stuck in my lungs. My chest starts to feel like a lead weight is pressing on it, and no matter how hard I force the oxygen into my airways, it only hurts more.

“Lani?” Mom clutches my hand, but all I can do is shake my head.

“No, that’s not… Roman, he…” Panic floods my body. My hands are shaking, but I don’t know if it’s with rage or betrayal. I told Roman I wanted to deal with Greedy my way. I begged him not to get involved and he did the exact opposite.

Clutching my face, Mom swipes away the tears I didn’t know had fallen. “This isn’t Roman’s fault, sweetheart.”

“You don’t get it,” I croak. “He was mine. I had a plan to make him pay, and…”

Mom nods in understanding. “I know,” she soothes. Suddenly, something clicks. Her words begin to resonate with me in a way I didn’t think would. Did Mom go through something like this too?

“He’s taken that from me, Mom.”

Clutching me to her chest, she smooths her hand over my hair. “He didn’t take anything from you, Precious. He did this for you.”

Sniffling, I nod in agreement. “I know. But this was my revenge, not his. If he hadn’t left, none of this would have happened?—”

“You don’t mean that, Lani,” Varo interjects.

“I know that!” I whine back. “But he hurt me, and I needed it to make sense.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom clucks. “Sometimes, love doesn’t make sense. And Roman leaving you was no reflection of that love. Did you ever think about that?”

Obviously, I didn’t at the time. Because why would an eighteen-year-old leave their girlfriend and move thousands of miles away? Why would a guy confess his undying love and devotion, swearing they’d never leave your side, and then do the opposite? I know Roman has told me as much, but it’s the only thing that’s been anchoring me to that night, motivating me.

“Sometimes, love is hard,” Mom whispers, breaking through my thoughts. “But that makes it worth it in the end.”

Slowly, I peer back at her, my jaw flickering with filtered resentment because I hate how right she is. But more than that, I hate how true those words are.