Ignite (Legacy) (2 page)

“Whoa, it’s eight,” Avery said, stretching next to me.

I did not look at the way her breasts pressed against the thin material of her tank top.

I did not appreciate her sleepy yawn, where her tongue curled like a little kitten.

I did not immediately picture putting her sleep-warmed body under mine and waking her up fully with an orgasm that would leave that raspy voice screaming my name.

Not at all.

Fuck.

The pounding continued, and I got up and headed for the door, where Zeus was already wagging his tail. I opened the door and he flew out, past where Bishop stood with his lips pressed together. That face was never a good sign.

“Some guard dog you have there,” he remarked as he walked in.

“Zeus knew it was you,” I said. “Besides, I’m twenty-five years old. Get off my ass. You’re only older by three years.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking up at Dad’s picture before striding into the living room. If he didn’t rise to that bait, there really was something drastically wrong.

“Hey, Avery,” he said into my kitchen where she was putting on coffee.

“Bishop,” she said with a smile. “Coffee?”

“That’d be great,” he said before turning back to me. “You awake?”

“I answered the door, didn’t I?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “We’re not supposed to meet up for another two hours, so why are you here?”

His jaw flexed. “I had an early morning phone call.”

“From?” Unless it was our father calling from the grave, I couldn’t think of a reason good enough to jolt me out of Avery’s arms.

“Sebastian Vargas.”

“Bash? No fucking way.” I shook my head, certain I’d heard him wrong. “Is something wrong at home?” Why the fuck would Bash call? He was on a Hotshot team in California. Hell, he’d left Legacy the same time I did.

Bishop swallowed and flexed his hands. “They’re resurrecting the team.”

My jaw hit the fucking floor. “I’m sorry. You’re going to have to say it again.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I made him say it like six times. I honestly didn’t believe him until Emerson Kendrick got on the phone.”

“Emmy is in on this, too?” Emmy and Bash had both lost their fathers with ours, buried them next to each other on Legacy Mountain.

“I never thought it was possible, but they got the town council to agree on one condition.”

“Which is?” Every emotion possible assaulted me, scraping me raw with disbelief, hope, pride, and a touch of wariness. Was resurrecting a team that had been annihilated the best move? Would it do them justice? Was it cursed to suffer the same fate? We’d buried eighteen out of the nineteen of them.

It was everything we’d fought for during the first years after the fire, but as time passed, and we’d been denied over and over…well, it became the impossible.

“It has to be made up primarily of Legacies. Blood of the original team.”

I stood there, staring at my brother while it sank in. He nodded slowly, like he understood the time it was taking me to process the news of the impossible.

My eyes drifted back to where Avery pulled a steaming mug of coffee from under the Keurig. “Say it,” I nearly growled, knowing his next words were about to rip my plans to shreds.

“They can’t do it without us. If we want the Legacy Hotshot Crew to be reborn…”

Fuck. My. Life.

“We have to go home.”

H
e has to what
?

The idea of River going anywhere was enough to nauseate me. Maybe I misheard. Maybe Bishop didn’t mean it. Maybe that awestruck look on River’s face meant something completely different.

The heat from the coffee radiated through the mug, finally burning my hand before I realized I still held it. I rounded the half-wall that separated the kitchen from the living room and handed the cup to River, who looked at me with shocked, deep brown eyes and mumbled his thanks.

“What does he mean?” I asked River.

His strong jaw tensed as he looked back to Bishop. With the stern set of their faces, they’d never looked more like brothers. Their Native American heritage proved dominant, giving them chiseled features, strong noses, high cheek bones, and raven black hair. But although Bishop was an inch or so taller than his little brother, River had at least thirty pounds more muscle on him. Thirty pounds of insanely cut, incredibly hot muscle.

Whoa. No thinking about River like that.

“What exactly
do
you mean?” River asked Bishop.

Every muscle in my body clenched.

“We’d have to move back to Colorado.” Bishop’s eyes flickered toward me, but mine were on River.

He nodded slowly, like he was working details through his head. That was one thing about River—he never made a decision without thinking it through. “And they have to have us?” he asked.

“They do. They’re going to be tight to hit sixty percent as is. Bash said he can’t be sure of final numbers yet.”

“How long does he have to come up with names?”

A year. Say a year.
Nausea hit my stomach hard. I couldn’t fathom a life without River around. It was already hell when he was on fires for a few weeks at a time.

“Two weeks.”

Okay, now I was going to puke. I must have made some kind of sound, because River’s arm came around my shoulders, pulling me into his side where I always thought I’d be. We weren’t together or anything, but he was an integral part of what made my world turn.

“Two weeks,” he repeated, rubbing the bare skin of my arm with his hand.

“Council only gave him until the ceremony.”

“Well, that’s just fucking fitting,” River growled.

“I don’t understand,” I said quietly.

River hit me with those impossibly deep eyes, two little lines furrowing between his eyebrows. “Remember I’m headed back to Colorado for the weekend in a couple weeks?”

I nodded.

“That’s the deadline they gave Bash,” Bishop answered. “They’re making this as impossible as they can, even though he’s footing the bill for everything. The firehouse is up and everything, it’s just missing a crew.”

“Damn. I knew he was rich, but not
that
rich.” River took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Okay, so if we move back, we get to reform the Legacy Crew?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And if we don’t?”

“They fail. There’s no mathematical way to do it without the both of us.”

River smirked with a sarcastic laugh. “And to think you never wanted me to fight fires.”

“Still don’t. This isn’t an order, River, it’s a choice.”

“Are you in?” River asked.

“I’m going,” Bishop said.

My breath left in a rush. If Bishop was going—

“Then I have to go. There’s no way you’re doing this on your own. We keep each other alive. Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

Pain ripped through me, so intense that I felt the emotion singeing my nerves as though someone had taken a branding iron to my soul.

“Yeah,” Bishop said quietly. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” His eyes passed over me again, like I would make any impact on River’s decision. I’d never crossed the line that would give me a say—never given in to the intense chemistry we shared, or the longing I’d always had. It wouldn’t have been fair of me, not with the responsibilities I’d taken on.

He deserved better.

River’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “It’s Dad, Bishop. There’s not really a choice. It’s his team and our home. If there’s a chance to bring Legacy back to life, then I’m not sitting it out.”

This was it. He was leaving Alaska. Leaving me.

* * *

“
W
here the hell
have you been?” Dad yelled out as Adeline and I walked into our home.

She winced. I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I lied. “Why?”

“You’ve been on the verge of tears since we left River’s house. Did something happen between you two?”

I tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “No. River and I are fine. It’s never been like that between us.”

“Well, it should,” she said as she walked off.

He was my best friend. It wasn’t that I hadn’t ever thought of what it would be like—actually being his. I was a woman after all. I already knew nearly every plane and hollow of his body, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled just a little when he full-out grinned. Hell, he’d even starred in some of my most blush-worthy fantasies. But I lived in reality.

“Avery!” Dad yelled from the living room.

A reality with my dad. I steeled my nerves with a deep breath and headed in. “Yes, Dad?”

“Where the hell have you been?” he repeated his earlier question. “You didn’t bother to come home after work.” He was laid out on the living room couch, wearing yesterday’s clothes and reeking of alcohol. Or maybe that was the nearly empty bottle of Jack on the floor next to him. Dishes littered the coffee table, just within his reach.

“We stayed with River last night,” I said, stacking the dishes.

“Well, you should have been here, not whoring around with the Maldonado boy.”

He didn’t even bother to look at me, just went back to watching
Family Feud
. Not that he had any clue what family was. In his mind, that word had only extended to my mother, and with her gone…well, we weren’t worth much.

“We’re just friends, Dad,” I said, taking the dishes back into the kitchen.

“Like hell. Bring me my meds, would you?” he asked, his tone suddenly sweet at the end.

I set the dishes in the sink and turned the warm water on to help loosen the dry, stuck-on food. Then I gripped the edge of the counter and lowered my head, taking in deep breaths.

River was leaving. This was my life. There would be no bright spots of laughter with him, of star-gazing, or stealing the comfort of his arms under the guise of friendship. This was it.

My heart felt like it was being mashed, squeezed until I bled out. The life I led wasn’t glamorous, or even really fulfilling. It was duty. Duty to raise Adeline. Duty to take care of Dad.

Duty.

I slammed the pill bottle onto the counter with more force than I’d intended.

Duty.

I twisted off the cap, Dad yelling again from the living room because I was taking too long.

Duty.

And that had seemed fine last night because I had one small thing that I kept for myself: River.

But now I felt like I was staring across the path my life would take…and suddenly the emptiness was overwhelming.

“Avery!” Dad yelled.

“Yeah, Dad. In a second,” I answered, knowing that if I didn’t, the shouts would only get louder until they turned to yells. Until he started throwing things. And if I put my foot down and made him get up for it…well, shit got broken. Not us—he’d never laid a finger on Adeline or me—just everything we loved, to make his point.

Mom had died in the car crash that had resulted in Dad’s fused spine, and we would forever pay for losing her and his never-ending pain and the loss of his job on the force. After all, they’d been on their way to pick us up from a weekend with our grandmother. In Dad’s mind, if we’d never been born, she’d still be alive and he’d be whole—still a police officer.

I knew better, whether or not he would ever admit it.

It was the secret between us. He kept it because he’d never willingly expose himself to the consequences of his actions. I kept it because he was Addy’s guardian, and the minute I opened my mouth, he’d kick me out of her life, and then what would happen to her? Even if I reported him for neglect, there was no guarantee she’d end up with me.

I rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, then grabbed Dad’s pain meds from the top of the cabinet, where I’d chosen to hide them for the week. Moving them around ensured that he never took more than he was allotted.

I grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and carried the pills to him.

“It’s about time,” he grumbled and cried out as he sat up on the couch. He swallowed the pills and some of the water, then scratched his hand across his unshaven beard. I’d given up trying to get him to shave years ago. “You think about cleaning this place up?” He motioned around the general dishevel of the living room.

“Maybe later,” I answered. “I need to run into the office for a few minutes.”

“At the
paper
?” he sneered.

“Yes, at the paper. Where I have a job.”
So I can keep the lights on.

He laughed. “That’s not a job. Jobs make real money. Why don’t you quit that one and take up more shifts at the bar? Pretty girl like you can make good tips.”

I did make good tips. Enough to save up almost a full semester’s tuition for Adeline. Five more years and maybe I could get her through college without the loans I’d taken out for my journalism degree. But that degree had also led me to River, which was worth every cent of the debt I’d accrued.

“Okay, well, if that’s it, then I have stuff I need to get done.”

He turned the channel. “Get me clean clothes and make me breakfast.”

I bit the insides of my cheeks and something in me snapped. “Say please.”

“I’m sorry?” he asked, finally looking at me, his eyes drug-hazed but wide.

“Say please,” I repeated.

“Why should I?” he snapped like a petulant toddler.

The pain of River’s inevitable loss morphed into red-hot anger. “Because I haven’t changed from work yet. Because I’m holding down two jobs to keep the taxes paid, utilities on, and everything Adeline needs. Because River is moving back to Colorado and this is my life, so I need you to be a little understanding today, Dad, okay?”

“Losing your boyfriend, huh?” he asked, turning his attention back to the television. I had the overwhelming urge to throw that goddamned remote through the screen.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Then why do you care so much? Let him move on, find a woman who can take care of him. Be happy that he’s getting the hell out of here, because we never will.”

I never will.

“Nice. Really supportive.”

“You’re right,” he said with a little shrug.

My chest lightened just a little, like the man I’d loved more than life was peeking through the clouds that had covered him the last eleven years. “Oh?”

“This is your life. You earned it. Now get my clothes, these smell.”

“Shower once in a while,” I threw over my shoulder as I walked away from him and the smell of funk that had become the norm of that room since he’d decided he was done walking to bed.

“Watch your mouth!” he yelled.

I made my way up the stairs and into my bedroom where I flung myself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Put him in a home.

Move out and leave.

You’re an adult now; you don’t have to stay.

The words of advice all of my friends had given raced through my head as I lay there. But those friends had all moved on. They’d gone to warmer climates, bigger cities. They weren’t responsible for the care of their parents.

Family has a way of pushing us to our limit…but we just keep moving the limits for them.
River’s voice overpowered every other thought. He’d always understood why I stayed when everyone else left.

I looked over at the picture of us from last summer on the water. His arms were around me, his chin resting on my head as we both grinned at the camera. His chest was bare, the tribal tattoos stretching across his chest and bringing more attention to the definition of his muscles, the tight, honed lines he worked so hard to keep perfect.

As he reminded me constantly—it wasn’t vanity but the way he stayed alive and one step ahead of the fires he fought.

Then again, I’d never seen him argue when he turned the head of every woman within fifty miles. He’d just smile back, wink, and I knew their panties would happily drop to his bedroom floor.

Not that I was allowed to be jealous. For starters, we weren’t together. He could sleep with every woman in Fairbanks and I wouldn’t get to say a damn thing. Not that any of them were good enough for him. But I also had a part of him that none of them ever would. Our friendship had outlasted every failed relationship on both our parts. If there was a constant for us, it was each other.

How the hell was that going to work with him in Colorado?

Would he move, find a hometown girl?

Would I get a wedding invite? A birth announcement? Would his world widen into something beautiful while mine stayed stagnant here—without him?