Page 172

Story: Princes of Legacy

Justice kicks his feet happily when Pace tickles them, his eyes lighting up.

Loath as I am to break it up, I relay, “My mother wants you to call her immediately.”

His eyebrow lifts and he rises, checking his phone. “She called three times.” He presses the button, lifting it to his ear. “Hey, it’s Pace. Everything okay?” He’s quiet for a beat, and then, “Yeah, we won.” My mother talks, her voice unintelligible as she speaks quickly. His forehead creases, but is otherwise blank as he nods. “Okay. Right. I appreciate it. Yeah.” He grimaces, glancing at me. “Well, guess it’s like a Band-Aid, huh? Time to rip that fu—” I glare at him. “Fuuudger off.”

He hangs up, tucking the phone into his pocket.

Wick and I stare at him, until Lex asks, “What was that about?”

“Adeline called.” He takes the carrier from Lex’s grip, a nervous energy buzzing around him. “She found Odette.”

Pace fidgets,circling the room like a caged animal. I took J.J. out of his arms five minutes ago, tucking him into the car seat where he’s napping, which probably made it worse. Holding his son usually calms him down, but in this case, I don’t think anything will help.

He’s nervous about meeting his mother, and he’s not the only one.

I don’t mean me.

“I’ve been off hard drugs for a decade,” Pauly admits, looking out of place among the pink and lavender decor of the Gilded Rose, “but if someone offered me a hit of Scratch right now, I’d probably take it.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Mama reaches out, taking Pauly’s hand in hers. “You’re going to be fine. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Odette, but I know her, and she’s not blaming you.”

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow raising. My mother gives him a warm, supportive smile.

Wait.

I look between the two, their hands, their expressions…

What the fuck—heck—is going on?

Before I can ask, Adeline, who’s been peering impatiently out the window, drops the curtain to announce, “She’s here.”

I cross the room and take Pace’s hand, feeling his fingers curl tight around mine as we wait for her knock.

And wait.

And wait.

Pace is frozen, dark eyes fixed on the door. “Did she leave?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“No,” Adeline says, peeking again. She releases a deflating sigh. “She’s at the bottom step. She looks really nervous.”

Join the club.

I squeeze Pace’s fingers, turning to look up into his anxious eyes. “Maybe you should go out there.”

His eyebrows twist into a frown. “Maybe she’s having second thoughts?” I can see—feel—the insecurities rushing back.

“Think about it,” I say carefully, keeping my voice low, private. “Can you imagine having to face J.J. after something like this? Explaining Rufus to him? All the horrible things you went through? The abuse and neglect?” I swallow, hating how every word is another wound. “Think about how you reacted to Pauly at first. Maybe she’s scared you’re angry.”

He releases a measured, calming breath, and nods. “That’s a good point.” Meeting my gaze, he dips down to push a lingering kiss to my forehead, inhaling me. “You’re so smart, you know that?”

“Well, some of us weren’t raised in East End, where the average emotional intelligence falls somewhere around narcissists and megalomaniacs.”

He squeezes my hand and grabs his coat, shrugging it on as he walks out the door.

I exhale, but it does nothing to quell my own anxiety, and now I’m the one who’s pacing. Adeline gives me a warm smile. “He’s right. You are smart.”

I’m alsonosy, so I dart to the window and discreetly pull back the curtain.

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