Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 33

THIRTY-THREE

“ W hat else?” I gulp, staring blankly at the wall ahead of me. After finding out from my brother about Roman being my avenging angel, I found myself eager for the details. I waited until I was all but leaving the apartment to head to the academy before I asked. Though since Roman started with how he ripped flesh from their bodies, I’m a little hesitant for the rest.

“That’s it,” Roman confirms, staring back at me expectantly.

I feel numb. His words register, but something inside me wishes there was more to it. I’ve been trying so damn hard to prove I’m nothing like my family, taking the moral high ground to bring justice for what happened, and yet all I can think about is how I wish I could’ve witnessed my attacker’s final moments.

Joining the police force was a way for me to show that there’s more than one way to take down the enemy; to exact justice. But there’s no denying that hearing Ashton and his friend plead for their lives would’ve been more satisfying.

I now realize that I’ve been attempting to abide by some moral code that I have no business navigating, because morals are something our family doesn’t have an abundance of. It’s in my blood. I live and breathe violence, and no amount of separating myself from it will completely erase that part of me. It’s what feeds the darkest parts of me. The parts that wanted to be the last face my attackers saw before meeting their demise. I think that pisses me off more than Roman’s savior complex.

He’s by no means my knight in shining armor, though, because that would mean he had a soul. No, Roman Genovese is the antihero in a sexy suit. A man who’d get his hands dirty so I don’t have to. The past two days gave me enough time to think about things, and I know being in the police academy makes things complicated between us, but my dad’s words echo in my head. I need to look out for my brother, the same way he’s done for me. Somehow, my mind goes to Roman as well. I need to protect him, too.

All of this doesn’t have to be for nothing.

“Lani,” Roman says, breaking me from thoughts. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

I roll my eyes as I reach for my leather jacket. My silence is everything, and he hates it. I mean, I get why he did it, but it’s still infuriating that he took away my main motivation to succeed in the academy. Now that it’s gone, I feel hollow. It’s stupid how much that one event has been my driving force, because now I have nothing else to cling onto. I know it’s ridiculous, and I need to focus on the bigger picture, but seeking retribution was what put all this in motion in the first place.

There’s still Prescott to contend with, but even I know that probably isn’t a winning battle. Not through the justice system, anyway.

Arms wrap around my waist, and I hate how much my body betrays me when I melt into his warmth.

“You were never going to be able to take them down, Presh. Not with a cop involved.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. He’s right. Deep down, I knew that taking them down my way wasn’t going to end how I wanted it to from the moment I recognized Prescott.

“I was just protecting you.”

I push away, jaw feathering with irritation. “You call that protecting me?” I scoff, arching a brow as I turn to face him.

Roman looks downright offended by my accusation. “Yes,” he growls.

“Unbelievable,” I sigh, grabbing my keys from the side table before spinning around. “When are you going to get it through your head that I don’t need your protection? Being with you is what got me here in the first place!”

I realize my mistake as soon as the words fall from my lips. Roman looks hurt, fists clenched to keep his temper at bay. His jaw tightens as he steps towards me, darkness shrouding him.

“I…” I sigh. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

He pinches my chin and tilts my head so that I’m peering into his gorgeous blue eyes. “It’s okay. We can fix this.”

He’s referring to my current predicament about the academy. I’m about to walk into the place, and I have no idea if I still have a spot. Prescott made it clear last week that I was on his radar, even after Mom threatened him. I’m a mismatched bundle of nerves with no outlet for my anxiety, because even with Ashton and one of his friends out of the picture, I still want this. I need this.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I need to keep my head down. I need to pass my exams and graduate, and just hope Prescott doesn’t come near me.”

“If he does?—”

“Roman!” I peer up at him, caging his face between my palms and pleading with him.

“I don’t want you anywhere near him,” he grumbles his admission.

Stroking my thumbs over his smooth cheeks, I swallow the lump in my throat. “Promise me you won’t do anything. You’ve already taken out two of them. Prescott is mine.”

“Fine,” he huffs, threading his hands in my hair. He plants his lips on mine—soft, and so unlike Roman that my brows furrow as he pulls away. I can tell he’s not happy about this, but he has no choice. I’m already looking over my shoulder constantly, and with Prescott’s added threat, I need to keep a low profile and hope this all blows over. Roman’s grip tightens as his gaze darkens. He pulls my head back, exposing my neck as he runs his nose over the sensitive area. “But I swear to god, if anything happens to you, there will be more remains spread about this city.”

I shiver beneath his words. I don’t even have the energy to be repulsed by them because my body is alight with excitement. The power of his threat makes my thighs clench because I know it’s not an empty promise, it’s a vow.

Clearly, proving I’m nothing like my family is going to be harder than I realized, because not only do I have to prove it to Roman and my dad, but myself, too.

After forcing myself off Roman before things get too heated, I say goodbye and head to the academy. I’ve opted to drive today since they’ve now opened up parking for trainees.

Savannah is already waiting for me at the entrance to the building when I arrive, her blonde hair flowing and whipping in the breeze.

Flipping the kickstand down and sliding my helmet off, I glance warily at Sav.

“Good weekend?” she asks, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“Hardly,” I grunt back. I refrain from telling her about the arrest—or Prescott for that matter. If I’m going to keep a low profile, I need to try and forget about what happened. That means not spilling to Sav about fight night. It’s not that I can’t trust her, but she doesn’t know who I am, and she’s my first real friend outside of the group I grew up with. If I tell her who my family is, I’m afraid that friendship will dissolve.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask for any more details, and we head to our lockers in silence before our first class starts. I’d feel some relief over that, except I find myself looking over my shoulder constantly. It feels like day one all over again, my nerves twisting and sending curdles of anxiety into my gut.

By the time our next class arrives, I’m about to explode with the amount of tension wound up inside of me, because this is the class I’ve spent most of my morning dreading; defense tactics.

We peel into the gymnasium at eleven o’clock, our footsteps thundering as we circle the large mat laid out on the floor. On the far side, Officer Prescott enters, stepping into the middle of our group.

A shiver tracks down my spine the moment I lay eyes on him.

“Right, cadets! We’re going to try a new maneuver today!” he bellows. “This involves parrying, hitting and moving to blindside somebody. For example, if someone is coming at you with a knife, you want to avoid entanglement before anyone gets hurt.” His eyes come to mine, and I internally shudder at the way his lips kick up into a deviant smile.

“Caruthers!” he barks, making me flinch as he points to the ground. “On the mat.”

I swallow heavily, glancing at Savannah. I don’t know why I look to her for support when she has no clue why I’m so nervous. This isn’t exactly the first time Prescott has called upon me to assist his demonstration, but there’s something sinister in his eyes as he glares at me.

With a deep breath, I roll my shoulders back and step onto the mat.

Prescott hands me the rubber knife—because we never use real ones here—and steps back. Thanks to my Aunt Lexie, I’m already top of this class. It’d be easy enough to demonstrate my own talents with this maneuver, but for the sake of my classmates, I’ll let Prescott have the upper-hand.

Flipping the rubber weapon in my hand, I switch my grip to a more offensive one, widening my stance and watching my training officer carefully.

He gestures with two hands to advance, a smirk curling his viscous lips. I hate how he looks right now; like he knows he’s going to have me pinned in a matter of seconds. Reluctantly, I decide to give him that, even though I’m more than capable of handling myself.

I lunge for him slowly and assuredly, swinging my arm in a motion that shows I’m on the attack. With the aggression of a predator, he blocks my forearm with his left hand, twisting his body to open up the space between us before gripping my arm with his right and yanking it behind me.

Pain ripples up my arm, immediately forcing me to drop the knife as he kicks my legs out from under me. I land on the mat with a thud, my teeth clattering on impact with such force that I grimace. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but I feel the wind kick out of my lungs, leaving me panting for oxygen.

Prescott pins me to the floor, his weight anchoring me to the mat. Panic sours through me, the memories haunting me and freezing me in place. For a moment, I’m suspended in the past, as if I’m watching the whole thing from above. Dark brown eyes filled with sinister intent suffocate me. I can’t breathe. I can’t…

Suddenly, I’m snapped out of my daydream.

“Try again,” he commands, pushing up from our position. He doesn’t help me up, and when I glance at Savannah, I can tell she’s noticed the force behind our trainer’s actions was intentional. It’s not unusual to go through this type of training, but the intent is much more than just teaching us all a move. I can practically feel the hate vibrate through him as we go again, like he’s trying to prove a point to me.

But I refuse to let him win. Not this time. I’ve spent years learning from the best, learning to protect myself. I won’t let this asshole win. It doesn’t matter who he is. I can’t let the past dictate my future, not like this. And I can’t let Prescott hurt me.

We reset, and once more, I let him demonstrate his authority. Only this time, I make it a little harder. Using the techniques Lexie taught me, I switch the blade in my hands as soon as Prescott blocks my first attack. It’s a seamless exchange, done by tossing the knife in the air and spinning away from Prescott in time to catch the weapon with my other hand.

The class erupts into impressed mumbles, which only irritates him. As much as I want to prove I’m not some weak girl, relying on my family name, I can’t let him know he’s gotten to me. So I move lazily around him. Despite my ability, I keep it slow, allowing Prescott enough time to wrap his hand around my other arm. I’m expecting him to swipe my legs out again, but he takes me by surprise by yanking me towards him and lifting an elbow, catching me in the face. Blood pools in my mouth as he uses the momentum to slam me to the floor, my arms pinned on either side of my head.

“Nice try,” he whispers menacingly to me. Then he looks up at the rest of the class, beaming with pride as he stands. I still have the knife in my hand, even though he deems it a victory for him. “Remember the number one rule: never underestimate your opponent!” he shouts. The confidence that oozes through his words isn’t lost on me. He’s referring to himself as the opponent and the cockiness alone is irritating.

The whole room is stunned into silence as I push up from my position, moving straight back into an offensive stance. I was trying to set my pride and anger aside to focus on providing a teaching moment for the class, but Prescott’s arrogance pisses me off. I’ve sworn to myself to stay off the radar and not draw attention to myself, but then he steps towards me, his hot breath so close that I can smell the disgust he holds for me and the reminder of our connection lingering in the forefront of my mind. His next words are what throw me off the edge, because they’re filled with the same misogyny women like me have been battling for years.

“Daddy can’t help you here,” he sneers.

I spit out the blood that has started clogging my mouth, irritation boiling in my veins. I can feel the split in my lip, sore and throbbing, and that’s what lures me into fight mode.

He steps away, but he’s barely created enough distance before I lunge for him again.

I swing my arm, which he predictably attempts to block, only this time I grab his wrist and dive under our joined hands. I use his weight and the momentum to get low enough to throw him over my shoulder. The satisfying thud of his body, followed by the wheezing sound of his chest isn’t enough for me. I pin his shoulders down with my legs, pressing the rubber blade to his throat with an angry smile on my face. “News flash, Prescott,” I say as I lean down. “I fight better than my dad.”

The class explodes into cheers and applause, their excitement almost deafening. My heart races, but it’s not with pride. It’s with agitation and fear. Annoyance that he tried to embarrass me just to prove a point; fear that I just did the same thing and there’s probably a punishment in there somewhere for me.

Pushing up off my knees, I don’t look at a single person as I march off the mats, dropping the rubber weapon on the floor and heading for the locker rooms. The roar of the class still echoes in the gymnasium behind me as I shove the door open to the changing area. Rage pulses through me like I’ve never felt before. Not even Roman’s attempts at ‘protecting me’ come close to how I feel about Prescott trying to bait me like that.

I slam my fist against the locker, the metallic sound bouncing across the room. How dare he try to embarrass me? How dare he think I can’t stand up for myself?

“Hey,” a voice pierces the turbulent thoughts swirling around my head.

I spin around to find Savannah approaching me with caution. Dropping down onto the bench, I fold forward until my elbows rest on my knees.

Her footsteps move around me, but she doesn’t say a word until she’s sitting on the bench opposite, unclipping the first aid box beside her. She pulls out an ice pack, stamping on it with her foot to release the chemical reaction before handing it to me with a soft smile. “You okay?”

I take the ice pack and press it to my lip, hissing at the frigid relief it brings. “Prescott is an asshole,” I murmur.

She chuckles in response, releasing her blonde hair from its ponytail. “Well… we knew that. But he seemed to really have it out for you today.”

“No, shit,” I remark, running my tongue along my split lip. Luckily, it’s not too bad. The pain is manageable, my pride is a little dented, but the satisfaction in landing Prescott on his ass is starting to make me feel a little better.

“At least you handed his ass to him,” she laughs. “He’s got everyone running laps right now.”

I grimace at the thought of my classmates dealing with the repercussions of my actions. It’s not their fault that our trainer is a jerk who’s obviously out to get me. But I should probably have handled the situation a bit better than I did. I’ve always been a sucker for letting my emotions lead my actions, but I know after today, I’ve just made things a whole lot worse.

“I should join them,” I huff, going to stand up.

Sav stops me, grabbing my hand and tugging me back to the bench. She leans forward and rests a hand on my knee. “They can use the exercise. You need to get that lip checked out.”

“I’m fine,” I shrug.

“I know, but I’m pretty sure someone else will have something to say about this.” She points at my face, smiling humorously.

“Roman can?—”

“I wasn’t talking about him.”

My brows furrow. Either I’m not understanding her right, or I’m understanding her perfectly. Surely, she’s not implying my family, or my father for that matter. I’ve covered all bases when it comes to that side of my life, there’s no way she could know. She only knew Haldon because he’s not a hard guy to ignore. But everyone else stuck to first names.

When I shake my head to clear my thoughts, she smiles back softly.

“You could have told me,” she sighs. “I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

Time seems to stand still as I stare back at Savannah, open mouthed and empty of words. It’s not that I never trusted her, because over the last few weeks she’s become the one person I can rely on to get through some of the painstaking classes. It’s that the more people who know who I am and who my family is, the more dangerous it becomes for everyone, Savannah included.

“I know,” I say defeatedly, rubbing a hand over my face. “I was trying to keep a low profile.”

“I get it.” She smiles back at me, and it’s so sincere that I feel the guilt of keeping this from her slip away. “Is that why Prescott is giving you a hard time?”

I nod in affirmation. “That, and some shit happened last Friday.”

She chuckles incredulously and shakes her head.

“How long have you known?” I ask warily.

“Since the moment you sat next to me, babe. I had my suspicions. Everyone knows Cassidy Caruthers, but then we went to Amadeus and I saw Gambino and your twin. I recognized Roman, so it didn’t take much to make the connection.”

“Argh!” I groan, tossing the ice pack onto the bench. I feel like a selfish jerk. Savannah has been nothing but nice to me, welcoming me and giving me the friendship I never knew I needed. It felt so normal and all this time, she knew what I was hiding.

She chuckles again, standing up and kicking her sneakers off. “Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone.”

Those few words seem to lift a huge weight from my shoulders. Not that I was worried, because I feel more like I’ve let her down as a friend more than anything. “I’m sorry Sav. I should have told you.”

“It’s fine!” She strips off her tee and shorts, grabbing her clothes out of her gym bag. “But if you really want to make it up to me…” she turns around with a menacing grin on her face. “You could hook me up with Haldon again.”

Damn, I knew there’d be a catch. Although I hardly call it manipulation, I love that she’s so forward about what she wants. “Sorry, Sav. Haldon’s not a one woman kinda guy.”

“Huh,” she shrugs, buttoning up her shirt. “That’s a shame. He was a really good lay!”

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of my chest, and when I toss the ice pack at her, we explode into childish laughter. The surrounding air feels lighter. Knowing I have Savannah on my side—someone I can talk to outside of The Five—feels so much more liberating than I would have imagined. I don’t need to tiptoe around her or keep my lips tight when it comes to family anymore. I can tell she’s somebody I can trust, someone I can rely on to get through the next few months in the academy.

I just have to make it to the end.