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Story: Legends: Jackson

“I can’t. Not when we’re still trying to find the person who put you in here. We’ve watched the security feed, but there are spots that are too dark for video enhancement. And your attacker spoke to you too low for it to be picked up on the audio recording. We need you to fill in the blanks.”

English’s gaze flicked to a spot behind Jackson quickly, making Jackson wonder if he imagined it.

“Not now.”

Jackson knew then. English didn’t want Reagan to hear what he had to say, but Jackson didn’t want to be in the room without her. He didn’t trust her to behave when she was out of his sight.

Reagan positioned herself at the foot of the bed. “I want to hear what happened too. Your attack is the only reason I’ve even seen or heard from you in years. I believe I deserve to know what happened to put me and my mother in danger, and since it’s your fault, I deserve to hear it from you.”

Jackson glared in her direction. “Reagan—”

“No,” English interrupted. “It’s okay. She’s not wrong. I just can’t give her what she wants.”

“What do you mean?” Jackson asked.

“I mean I can’t explain what happened because I don’t remember any details.”

“What do you remember?” Reagan said.

English ran a hand over his beard, smoothing the unkept hair. “I don’t know. It’s sort of dark flashes. I remember the guy talking to me, but I don’t remember what he said. I remember looking into his face, but I don’t remember what he looked like. I remember expecting to die, then I woke up here and found my daughter in my room.”

“I’m not your daughter. Not anymore.”

Jackson glanced at her, surprised to hear more sadness than hate behind her words.

“You are to me. You always have been.” English held her gaze for a long moment before looking back to Jackson. “She shouldn’t be here. Not if she’s in danger. She’s a sitting duck here.”

“I know that. Try convincing her,” Jackson retorted.

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” Reagan snapped. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you, so at least respect me enough to speak to me directly.”

“She refuses to listen to what we tell her,” Jackson told English. “She’s stubborn. Like you.”

“I’m nothing like him.”

Jackson turned to see the fire sparking in her dark eyes. He hated to admit he would miss seeing her fired up when she returned back to her life.

“You’re right about that,” English admitted. “You’re a lot like your mother.”

“How would you know?” Reagan challenged. “You left us when I was a child. You chose everything else over us. The CIA, the boys, everything.” English blinked in surprise, and she continued before he could speak. “I’m sure you thought you were a hero, putting our safety first while you were out saving the world one undercover job at a time. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t feel the same way.”

If English was bothered by what she said, he didn’t show it. Having aired her grievance earlier, Reagan was surprised she still had any vehemence in her.

“Who told her?” English asked Jackson as if all the awful things she’d said didn’t matter.

“I did. She deserved to know about you, the same way we deserved to know about her. If you hadn’t kept your secrets, we wouldn’t be chasing our tails right now. Enough about that. We don’t have time for this. The person who put you here still poses a threat that we need to neutralize. I’m going to have Luke show you the security footage. Maybe it’ll jog your memory.”

“No,” Reagan interrupted.

Jackson didn’t bother to hide his eye roll. “What now?”

“You’re just like him, putting what you want ahead of what’s for the best. Watching the video of the attack could cause undue stress, and until the doctor rules out anything more serious, stress could cause a setback.”

“Let me guess. You know this because of research for a book.”

“No!”

Jackson noted the slight shift in her gaze and wanted to call her out on her lie. The fact he was silent for longer than was acceptable was enough to have her sigh in resignation.