Page 54 of Precious Legacy
“I only found out yesterday!” I say, trying to reason with him.
Varo stalks forward and I counter backwards until I have nowhere to go. The ring is behind me, and as soon as I hit the ropes, he slams a piece of paper against my chest. “Then how come I found this in your room?”
Huh?
Frowning, I catch the piece of paper with a frown, peeling it open. My eyes land on the familiar words, the ones I’ve practically memorized since I discovered Alanis’ secret. It might sound stupid, but relief floods through me as I look back at Varo and smile.
“I’m sorry, bro. I am.” I hand the paper back to him. “I thought I could convince her not to go through with it.”
“Well, it didn’t work,” he snaps.
“Clearly,” I laugh, rubbing the sore spot on my jaw. “Nice hook by the way.”
“Fuck you!” He backs away to take a seat on the bench. Tension ripples over his shoulders through his suit. He’s got so much going on that I know this is the last thing he needs, but I’m just as pissed about the situation. Though clearly we’re angry about two very different things.
Dropping onto the bench with him, I start unwrapping my hands. A sharp chill from the AC coats my sweat-slickened skin and I suppress the shiver that coaxes to the surface. “You spoke to your dad?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “He told me this morning. He didn’t mention you, though. Guess he didn’t have to.” He waves his sister’s acceptance letter in the air. “Found this when I was coming to tell you.”
“She has her reasons,” I state, ignoring the fact he went rummaging through my shit in the first place. “Trust me. I’m not happy about it either.”
Varo’s brows furrow as he tries to understand the message behind my words, but I can’t give him more than that. It’s not my story to tell.
“Talk to Alanis,” I urge.
“I don’t want to right now.”
“But youwillspeak to her?” Arching a brow, I reach for my water bottle on the floor. “She needs you, Vee. Give her a chance to explain.”
“Explain what?” he grumbles, running his hand through his hair. When he looks at me again, I can tell he’s more angry at me than his sister. I suppose that’s something. Not that I’d rather his anger was directed at his sister, but the guy can really pack a punch.
“Trust me,” I reply, standing up from the bench. “She has her reasons, and she needs someone on her side.”
“She has you on her side,” Varo huffs, folding his arms. The look he sends me is more to confirm he’s right than anything else. I wish I could say yes, but with what I have planned, the last thing Alanis is going to believe is that I’m on her side.
“Maybe it’s not enough,” I shrug, stuffing my wraps into my gym bag.
He shoves me with his shoulder as he stands. It’s gentler than before, but I still feel the irritation rolling off him. Just like his sister, it’s hard to get him to calm down once he lets his rage take over. He’s usually less ruffled, though, but with Milo in the picture, Alvaro’s got a short fuse these days.
“Whatever is going on, I don’t want any more secrets,” he warns me, poking my chest with his finger.
“Alright!” I yield. “I suppose I’d better tell you...”
Varo quirks a brow, leveling me with a dubious glare.
“You need to work on your form.”
He lunges forward, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me into a headlock. While I might have the agility, he’s definitely got more strength on his side. He lets out a laugh as he drags his knuckles over my scalp, burning my skin with the friction. “I’ll fucking show you form!”
TWENTY-ONE
It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Telling Roman what happened five years ago hasn’t totally eradicated the pain, but it’s a start, and I feel like we’re in a much better place for it. Unfortunately, the dark cloud of anger and sadness that hangs over my head since my dad’s departure still lingers. No amount of comforting from Roman seems to remove the gloom, so when Haven turns up at my door unannounced, I know he’s brought out the big guns.
“Come on,” she sings as I bury myself under my covers. “We’re going out!”
“Not tonight,” I grumble. It’s seven o’clock, in the middle of the week, and the last thing I want to do is play dress-up and go dancing in some club with a bunch of drunk guys on the prowl.
Cold air whips my body as Haven yanks the duvet off me. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. So get your mopey ass in the shower and put on your dancing shoes!”
