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“I knew you hated English, but I didn’t know you hated him enough to protect the people who put him in a coma. Damn, for all we know, you orchestrated this to put him there.” Luke barely contained his own fury. His hands balled into fists, and Reagan suspected if she was a man, Luke would have already punched her.

“I would never do something like that, and I never asked you for anything!” Reagan’s rage had her body shaking. “Yes, I hate English, okay? I admit it. But I don’t care enough about him to orchestrate any kind of attack. How do I know he’s not in hospital because of something one of you did?”

“Enough!” Traci stood and wrapped an arm around Reagan’s shoulders to draw her daughter close to her side. “Everyone needs to calm down.”

“Traci’s right.” Randall motioned for the boys to join them in the living room. “We need to work together to sort this out.”

“What do you know?” Ben asked.

“We probably know more than you think,” Traci admitted, ignoring Reagan’s stunned reaction. “Come and sit down. We need to talk together, but we’re going to do it calmly and without accusations.”

“Mom?”

“Honey, I swear we didn’t know what was going on enough to realize we had information, and I can’t be sure if what we know is even useful. But I’m going to do whatever I can to help these gentlemen if it means you are protected.”

Reagan stepped out of her mother’s touch. She looked from Traci and Randall and then to the four men who regarded her as the enemy. Her stomach tightened as she realized everyone in the room kept her in the dark about a lot of things. For whatever reason, no one gave her enough respect to tell her the truth until the situation forced their hands. How could she possibly believe what they said now was the whole story and not a watered-down version to stop her questions?

“I know that look, Reagan Elizabeth, and you will not pull away from us.” Traci regarded her daughter sternly. “You’re hurt, and you’re angry. Well, so am I. But now’s not the time to let it stop us from doing what we need to do. We may have made mistakes, but the past is the past. It can’t be changed. All we can do is focus on the present. You need to hear what we have to say, no matter how much it hurts or confuses you. You’re one of the strongest people I know. You can handle what we’re about to tell you, probably better than we’ve given you credit for.”

Reagan drew in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of people deciding what’s best for me. I’ll listen to what you have to say, and I’ll share what I know. But nothing you say is going to make me trust any of you again.”

“You won’t have a choice,” Jackson interrupted. “English wanted us to protect you, and we will. The best way for us to do that is for you to trust us. Once we take down the one who orchestrated Gish’s attack, you can go back to hating everything and everybody.”

Reagan glared at him, her lips curving into a cool half smile. Her gaze held his defiantly. “Deal.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jackson studied the faces in the room, noting small gestures and tells that gave him insight into their personalities. English taught him the importance of keeping silent and observing. The trick aided him on more than one case, and in some instances, it kept him alive. The skill took all of his concentration now when he felt ready to explode into a million pieces.

His gut churned as he waited for the beginning of a conversation which should have happened hours ago. He was about to learn details he needed to be read in on years ago. The secrets and distrust only wasted time, giving the unknown enemy they chased time to be ten steps ahead of them.

He despised being in the dark. His brothers looked to them for leadership, and he was too ignorant of what was going on to be able to command them. To calm himself, he started ticking off the facts they did know, hoping to get an inkling of something they overlooked.

They knew of Randall’s background as a cop — a solid public servant with a record of commendations and a history of risking his life to protect others. From all accounts, he lived by the same code as the Legends.

Traci was well-liked. She was an OB nurse in a physician’s office before she retired. Now she volunteered for a couple of charities when she wasn’t helping support her daughter’s writing career. She carried her inner strength like a shield, but it was her compassion which shone through everything she did or said.

Then there was Reagan. She was a dangerous combination of stubbornness, intelligence and vulnerability. She had a backbone of steel, which he hated to admit he admired, but she was also soft. That combined with her beauty affected him. She angered him and brought out his protective side at the same time, and he should have whiplash at how quickly he shifted from one to the other just from one moment of being with her.

He watched them all silently, his brothers following suit. Finally, Traci squeezed her husband’s hand and began.

“You already know I met English when I worked in the OB department at the hospital, and I bumped into him when he came for physical therapy for a shoulder injury. We fell in love quickly. I didn’t know the truth about his life. I had suspected he held some things back from me, but I figured he would eventually open up. Then I got pregnant. English proposed the moment after I told him, but I said no. I didn’t want to marry him because he felt a sense of obligation, but he stuck around until you were born. I finally caved in and agreed to get married. I convinced myself it was the right thing to do for you.”

“All those times he stayed gone because of work? How did he explain it to you?” Reagan asked.

“He was a professional problem solver with clients all over the world. To be honest, the first few years, I was exhausted most of the time taking care of you. English provided everything we could ever want, and when he did come home, he helped out so I could rest. He would bathe you feed you, and play with you. I convinced myself the fact he was a good father to you was all that mattered. As long as he treated you like a princess when he was around, I could fill in the gaps when he wasn’t.”

“What changed?”

Jackson turned a curious stare in Ben’s direction, surprised his brother interrupted the mother-daughter conversation with a question of his own.

If Traci was bothered by the question, she didn’t show it. “Reagan started school. She got involved in extracurricular activities. She played Tee ball and started piano lessons. She would invite English to her games and recitals, but he couldn’t ever make it. He would only come home on his own time and bribe her with presents and trips to the zoo or the fair. I couldn’t take it anymore. She needed more than a part-time father who acted more like Santa Claus. So I confronted him one night after Reagan went to bed. We argued. I don’t know how we didn’t wake her. Things got very heated, and he ended up telling me the truth. I was shocked and felt betrayed that he would have such a dangerous life and involve me and his daughter without ever telling us. I threw him out, and we had the marriage annulled soon after.”

“How is that possible?” Reagan didn’t bother to hide her confusion. “I may have missed something, but it doesn’t sound like you had a basis for an annulment.”

“I’m sure Gish’s CIA handlers arranged for it as a layer of protection for you and your mother,” Luke interjected, and Jackson silently agreed.

The annulment would have been necessary to protect English’s cover. He operated as Legend, but the danger always existed that someone could find out his true identity. Anyone close to him could be used as leverage against him. The fact that English opened his life to a wife and child was a risk that had backfired. Jackson would have expected it to happen when he was in the CIA and not years after he left the Agency.