Wildfire (Hidden Legacy #3)(48)

"This is what bothers me." I spun around and began to stalk back and forth. If I didn't move, I would explode. "What kind of world is it where Vincent is necessary? Where he's an asset. Where Dave can just kidnap people off the street and nobody will do anything about it? Don't you see how terribly fucked up this is?" I stopped. "And I'm about to drag my sisters and cousins into it. I'm scared, Connor. I'm scared out of my mind."

"When you are in it, you have no idea it's not normal," he said quietly. "I didn't realize until I joined the army that everyone didn't live like this. This is what we're fighting against. If the conspiracy succeeds, Vincent will get free rein." 

All of the fight went out of me. I sat on the bed. "The further I go, the less choices I have. We're not even a House yet and already I have to make sure we look strong enough to not be attacked. Everything I do from now on has to be dictated by getting more magic, more power, more wealth, just so we can survive."

He knelt by me, resting his hands on my arms.

"If I don't do this, my own grandmother is going to crush us. I'm not just responsible for making sure I put a roof over my family's head and food on the table. I'm now responsible for their lives. I want to murder Vincent Harcourt before he lets his beasts tear my mother into pieces. I killed David and I have nightmares about it, but now I want to kill Vincent, because I have no choice. Even the choice of my husband has to be calculated based on some genetic bullshit that says Rynda is a better match than me . . ."

I'd said too much. I clamped my mouth shut.

"Do you love me?"

The question caught me off guard. "Yes."

"Do you love your family?"

"Yes."

"Would you do anything to protect them?"

"Yes."

"Then it doesn't matter, Nevada. Nothing's really changed. I love you. You love me. We're together. I don't care about genetic matches. You told me before it didn't matter. Did that change?"

"No."

"Then we're okay." He slid his warm hands down my shoulders and took my hands in his. "Every world has dangers. There are muggings, shootings, car accidents, drug addictions, abusive relationships. It has nothing to do with being a Prime. This is life. The only difference is, now you can see the dangers more clearly."

He squeezed my fingers.

"Your grandmother was a threat to you before you were even born. Your father didn't run away from her because she was a loving and caring mother. He found your mother and married her without any genetic matches. You are at least as strong as Victoria Tremaine. The difference between you is education and experience, and you can get both."

I took a deep breath.

"It's all coming too fast," he said. "A lot happened in the last two days. You met your grandmother, you registered for trials, you dealt with Rynda, you fought Vincent and almost died. You need time to sort through all of this. But you are here tonight, and nothing will touch you while I'm with you in this room. I promise that I won't leave no matter what the hell happens and if I go, we'll go together."

I put my arms around his neck and hugged him. The warm strength of him felt so good. Reassuring.

His arms closed around me. "I've got you. It will be okay. I've got you."

We stayed like that for a long time.





Chapter 7




"Wake up," Rogan said in my ear.

My eyes snapped open. I flailed for a second in the sheets and sat up, blinking.

He watched me with an amused grin. He was already up and wearing dark pants and a loose T-shirt. The morning light streamed through the window wall. I had overslept.

Morning. Harcourt. All remnants of my dreams fled. I was wide awake.

"Arabella dropped this off for you." He put a large suitcase on the bed.

I unzipped the bag and threw it open. Baby Desert Eagle and four magazines, underwear, sweaters, jeans, socks . . . A Ziploc bag with my toothbrush, deodorant, and makeup. Condoms in bubble gum flavor. She would pay for this.

"You have a weird look on your face," he said.

"I'm trying to decide if this means I'm kicked out of my house." Considering the fight I had with Mom last night, I wouldn't be surprised.



       
         
       
        

"Now that would be an interesting development." He crossed his arms. "You have no place to go."

"This isn't funny."

"It's hilarious. The stuff of romcoms. Disowned by her family, thrown into the arms of an obsessive, paranoid billionaire . . ."

I threw a pillow at him. It stopped three inches from his face. He pushed it aside with his fingers, leaned over, and kissed me. The pillow landed back on the bed.