Point of Origin (Legacy #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

  She shrugged. “Like I’ve told Knox, his daddy would be proud of the man he’s become, and you, too. Does it take years off my life when I know you boys are called out? Of course. But there’s something to be said for a legacy, and I think they’d be damn honored to have their team resurrected.”

  I steadied my breathing, trying to hold back dam from breaking. I’d been in town a week today and hadn’t lost my shit. I wasn’t about to start now.

  “As for Emerson,” Agnes continued without me asking. “You destroyed that girl, and all that hard armor she wears is your doing.”

  “I know,” I said softly. The only time she let it down was when I managed to get my hands on her.

  “No, you don’t. You left. You didn’t see her the year after that, when she barely held herself together, waiting for you to show up, to come home. You haven’t watched her these last few years trying to date, to find someone that could fill those shoes you left—hell, abandoned. It took years for that woman to reconstruct herself, and you digging up the past isn’t helping, even if you have the best intentions. Be careful. That team isn’t just your legacy, Sebastian—it’s hers too. Hers, and Ryker’s, and Harper’s, and Knox’s…and all of those kids’. You don’t have the monopoly on grief here. Not in this town. Now, I love you just as much as my Knox, but boy, I will fillet your backside if you hurt that girl again. You’re all in, or you don’t get…in. You understand?”

  Thirteen or twenty-seven years old, it was all the same—there was nothing like being ripped apart by your best friend’s grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter.

  “Absolutely not,” she protested.

  I leaned across the counter and kissed her on the cheek. “Then apply it to Emerson’s tab. She’ll drink enough coffee to go through it in a month.”

  Agnes laughed. “That is true. Now, do you know the one beautiful thing about that wall?” She motioned to the south wall.

  “That it’s full of love?” I gave her the answer she’d always given me.

  “No, boy. The ones who came back to carve again. That fire burned this town to ashes. We lost everything, as you remember. But what you’re forgetting is the rebuild wasn’t just a replacement. It was a fresh start. The sins of old were wiped away, but the love…that came back.”

  She was right. So many of the carvings I could make out from here were the same names that had always been there, re-carved on the lighter wood. “Thank you for breakfast. I’d better get to that council meeting.”

  “You’re always welcome, and you know it.” She nodded.

  My hand was on the door when she called out.

  “Sebastian, you’re entitled to that same fresh start. She’ll give it to you, but you have to do more than want it—you have to take it.”

  I nodded, unable to say anything that wasn’t either a lie or too truthful, and left the Chatterbox.

  What the hell was I supposed to do? Even in California, Emerson was a fire in my blood. She lived in my dreams, came out to play in my memories when I least expected. I’d only ever left her physically. Even six years couldn’t rip her out of my soul, and she was here, more incredible than ever and only a touch away. God, I wanted to touch. No, not just touch, own.

  I needed to possess her in the same way she had me.

  I wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she raised an eyebrow. I wanted to be the one to kiss those lips, to hold her, to hear her scream my name as I fucked her senseless. I wanted every single part of Emerson, and she wanted nothing from me. How the tables had turned.

  “Ready for the fight of your life?” Ryker asked at the front door to the town offices.

  “In more ways than one,” I answered and swung open the door.

  Chapter Six

  Emerson

  “We have Miles Ryan at 9 a.m, followed by Sebastian Vargas at 9:30—”

  “I can’t believe he’s pressing this. A new hotshot team! There’s no chance this will pass. None. And it’s damn disrespectful for him to think that he can march back in here—” Mayor Davis nearly slammed his coffee down, its contents spilling over the side. “Well, that’s just perfect.”

  I reached for the paper towels in his desk drawer, but he beat me to it.

  “Well, that’s what I get for being a hot head,” he muttered, mopping up the spill. “I’m so sorry, Emerson. I’m just a little worked up about this.”

  “As I can see,” I said softly, finishing today’s agenda. Of course, Bash had to be on the schedule directly after we dealt with accepting the new fire department’s budget for the fiscal year. Ironic timing at its best.

  “Well, we’d better get to it.” He brushed invisible crumbs off his tie and stood. “Ready?”

  Absolutely not. “Let’s do this.” I forced a smile, cradled the files in my arms and followed him down the steps.

  “Bad day?” Greg asked, meeting us just outside the door.

  “I guess we’ll see in about an hour,” I answered.

  Greg held my chair, and I slid in, grateful for the kindness. “Thanks.”

  He bent down, gently squeezing my shoulder. “I know things are probably spinning a million miles an hour for you right now with Vargas home, but if you ever need to talk, just know that I’m here.”

  My head turned, bringing me within inches of him. I hovered there for a moment, shamelessly testing, willing that same inferno of need to burst free, to incinerate me with the need to feel his mouth on mine. His blue eyes dropped to my lips, and he drew a breath.

  “For anything you need,” he qualified.

  Any minute now… I told myself. Any minute the desire would rush in. Wait for it…

  Damn it.

  Nothing. Not even a tingle.

  Maybe I was broken.

  “Let’s call this meeting to order,” Mayor Davis said.

  “Thank you,” I said to Greg, and he took the seat next to me with a little nod.

  Miles marched in, right on time, and stood at the podium. Thirty-one minutes later, the new budget was approved. The cost was huge to a tiny town like ours, but we didn’t mess around with fire. At least within the town’s limits.

  They’d even added in the cost of the hotshot memorial in two weeks to the fire budget. Dad never would have stood for that, being a drain on the fire department’s budget, but it wasn’t like he had a say anymore.

  Glancing over the few notes I’d scribbled down to help Mayor Davis, I popped a Tic Tac in my mouth and starred the items I’d need to tackle first as Miles left.

  The door shut, and as cliché as it was, I swore I felt him before I saw him. The energy in the room changed, crackled with tension. By the time I looked up, Bash already stood at the podium with his three-day level of scruff, perfect, gorgeous, and imposing in another immaculate suit. Today, he wore a moss-green tie, which played off his eyes so well that I flashed back in time to seeing that shade above me, taking in every nuance of my expressions as he rocked steadily within me.

  “Are you okay?” He’d asked.

  “God, yes,” I’d answered. “Don’t stop.”

  “Never. We’re just getting started, baby.” Then he’d shifted his angle, and I hadn’t been able to speak anything but “Oh, God,” and his name for the rest of the night.

  Mayor Davis mumbled next to me, and I blinked myself free of the memory.

  Hunger settled low within my belly, infusing my limbs with heat. Nope, not broken.

  Damn it, my against-a-wall level of sex drive only turned on around Bash.

  Our eyes locked across the dozen feet that separated us, and he sucked in a breath as I ran my tongue across my instantly dry lower lip. I wanted him. Now. In the office, the janitor’s closet, wherever, as long as it was now.

  “Alright, Mr. Vargas, let’s hear this plan of yours.”

  The door opened, and Ryker walked in, his blonde hair a little wild, but his suit just as tailored as Bash’s. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized.
“I was picking someone up at the airport.”

  “These are closed-door proceedings, Mr. Anders.”

  “Yes, sir, they are,” Bash answered. “They are limited to the council and Legacy, LLC, which Mr. Anders is also a member of.”

  Ryker walked up and handed each of the council members—myself included—a copy of the LLC paperwork.

  Papers flipped as the council sought the names. Smart move, Bash.

  I looked up with an approving smile and nodded when he visibly relaxed.

  “And when is your third member going to make an appearance?” Mayor Davis asked.

  “Right now, sir.”

  My head snapped to the doorway and my smile was instant and overwhelming.

  Harper was going to shit bricks.

  Knox Daniels walked in, still knotting his tie, which looked conveniently like the one Bash had been wearing last week. His light brown hair was haphazardly styled in stark contrast to Bash’s carefully crafted almost-spiked look.

  He took a seat next to Ryker and scanned the council. Once he got to me, his eyes lit and he waved. I returned it as enthusiastically as I could without jumping on my chair and singing “The boys are back in town.”

  The three of them had always been unstoppable. Reckless, a little irreverent, but always a force to be reckoned with.

  I gave Bash a small thumbs-up and savored his smile.

  “Mr. Vargas, if you’re ready now.”

  Bash ran his fingers over his stubble-covered cheeks, placed his hands on the podium, and took control. Fuck, it was hot.

  He laid out the plan for the twenty-member hotshot team. They would remain a federal asset but belong to the town in name-only. Legacy, LLC would fund the team in its entirety, and already had the backing of the Forest Service.

  “Then why come to us at all?” Mayor Davis asked with the mumbled assent of the twelve-person council. “Why not just start up a new one somewhere else?”

  “This is a needed area. We can respond faster from here. Wasn’t that why the original team was based in this region?”

  “Then why not a few counties over?” Mrs. Anderson asked.

  I swallowed the need to throat-punch her and then blinked. When had I started taking Bash’s side on this? Did I actually want the team reinstated? The sons to stand in where the fathers had died?

  “Because this isn’t establishing a new team.” He looked directly at me. “This is resurrecting the one we lost. Slight modifications to budget, training and makeup, but the same team.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Ludicrous.”

  “No respect.”

  The replies weren’t soft, nor kind, and each of them hit me with the force of a punch. I looked from one council member to the next, each so sure their opinion was right, each acting as if this would personally rip them to shreds were it allowed to happen.

  Something ugly twisted in my stomach. Suddenly this council wasn’t made up of the same citizens who had painstakingly rebuilt this city from scratch. They were a bunch of self-righteous asshats who spewed things like “too young,” and “worst idea ever.”

  “I understand your feelings, but try to look at this for the good it can do, as a way to heal our town and truly finish the rebuild.” Bash kept his tone even and calm, but the whitening of his knuckles on the podium told me he was anything but. Both Ryker and Knox looked like I felt—disgusted, not by the feelings of the council, but the way they were attacking Bash.

  “You have no clue what this could do to us!” Mr. Henry called out, his usually-pasty face bright red.

  To them?

  To them!

  “Enough!” I shouted, and the council fell silent, no-doubt in shock.

  “Emerson?” Mayor Davis looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “’Do you have any clue what this could do to us?’ Is that really what you just said to Mr. Vargas?” I asked Mr. Henry, on record and with full notes by the recorder.

  “He’s not looking at the bigger picture,” he defended himself, sitting taller in his chair.

  “Do you really think that the loss of your home and the need to rebuild your bank is really the biggest tragedy from that day?” I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. “Young lady—”

  “Oh no, I’m a fully-grown, tax-paying woman with a Masters degree that I worked my ass off for. I’m the woman who helped put this town back on her feet and never stopped fighting. You don’t get to belittle my gender and act like I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  His mouth opened slightly, then shut.

  I met each of the council member’s gazes. “Each of you lost something that day. Each of you fled, just as we did. Each of you rebuilt your homes, your businesses, and your lives. But you take a good, long look at Sebastian, at Knox, at Ryker…at me. We all lost something that you cannot comprehend, so don’t you dare ask him if he knows what it cost you. You can argue his plan, the costs, the impact on the town, but when it comes to emotional cost, we already paid that bill. Not you, and if there’s four of us here, asking you to consider this, then you can damn well listen respectfully.”

  “Ms. Kendrick,” Mayor Davis chastised.

  My chin rose in response. There was zero chance in hell I was backing down.

  “Perhaps you should stop telling us why we can’t do this, and instead offer us your conditions,” Bash suggested.

  The attention shifted back to him, and I nearly gasped. The look in his eyes was pure, barely-restrained murder, and it was aimed at the very people he was arguing to save. “I’m not asking your permission. If you don’t agree, I’ll withdraw the petition to include my new land in the city. You’ll lose the taxes. The Forest Service has already agreed to oversee the new team. I. Do. Not. Need. You. Or your understanding,” he shot at Mr. Henry. “My father died on that mountain with seventeen of his closest friends. He died protecting this town, and the work they accomplished allowed you the time to flee. I am here only out of respect for his wishes, and those of his brothers and sisters who lay with him in Aspen Cemetery. Do not mistake my courtesy, my love for my hometown, for begging. I may want the Legacy name, but I sure-as-hell don’t need it, or you.”

  The room was eerie silent as Bash stood his ground, looking at each of the members as I had, but never meeting my eyes.

  “What will it take?” Knox asked, standing next to Bash. “If we, who lost the most that day, can offer to stand again in defense of this town, in honor of our parents, then you can give us a path to do it.” He spoke directly to Mr. Henry. “That’s the least you can do, considering you were the first to evacuate.”

  Mr. Henry sagged in his chair.

  “Imagine the press, though, the criticism of allowing the same team to be reestablished,” Mrs. Anderson said with a soft voice.

  “Imagine the press when we come out under a different name because our home refuses to honor the heroes that saved it,” Ryker argued, standing on Bash’s other side.

  “You will have a hotshot team on that mountain,” Bash said, the tone in his voice final. “You can either be on the right or the wrong side of this. It’s your choice.”

  The council members talked amongst themselves, covering their microphones, leaving us all in the dark as to what the hell they were thinking.

  Bash finally looked at me, and everything else faded away. There were only the two of us in that room, locked together by a tangible connection that even time couldn’t sever. His face was an unreadable mask, still in its control, but his eyes, they burned me, entranced me, intoxicated me. They were slightly wide with amazement, but so fucking hot for me that my heart skipped and stark, undeniable need pulsed between my thighs.

  Fire and gasoline.

  God, I was desperate to burn.

  Greg sighed heavily next to me, taking his seat after conferring with Mayor Davis. “That’s why you won’t go out with me,” he laughed in self-deprecation.

  “What?” I asked, turning to face him. “We’re not tog
ether. We haven’t been in…forever.”

  “But he’s what keeps you from trying,” he said softly, no anger or malice in his tone, just understanding…because he was Greg.

  My gaze shifted back to Bash, whose narrowed stare flickered between Greg and me, despite Knox and Ryker both talking to him. “He’s Bash,” I admitted quietly, not just to Greg, but to myself.

  “He’s not staying,” Greg answered in the kindest tone imaginable.

  I tried to smile. “I know,” I said, looking straight at where Bash stood, wishing I was next to him instead of across the room. “But it’s always going to be him, and it doesn’t matter if he’s here or not. It will always be Bash.”

  As if saying that aloud freed me, I felt both lighter and heavier in an instant. Lighter because I knew that I hadn’t been a stupid teenager, I’d simply found my soulmate as kid. Heavier because it didn’t matter how I felt, I could never have him, not completely.

  My fingers trembled, as if the knowledge was too much for my body to process, and Greg reached across the table and squeezed my hand gently. “Okay.”

  “Thank you,” I told him, knowing I was shutting the door on something that could be perfectly acceptable to me in time, perfectly safe…perfectly…lovely.

  But lovely wasn’t what I had with Bash. It was messy, and hard, and imperfect, and so very us.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Mayor Davis said, taking his seat with the rest of the council members. “I think we have a solution.”

  All three of the firefighters tensed as they awaited the verdict. “What will it be?”

  “You made quite a showing here—four of you standing up for your own legacy. We’re not immune to the display, especially when it comes from a quarter of the surviving children of that team, and when three of you are willing to form a new team—to stand in for your fathers.”

  Bash tensed, and I knew why—he wasn’t planning on standing in for his father. Not here. Here was too much, too close. He wanted to honor his father’s memory, but he wasn’t putting that same patch on.

  “We think it should be up to the legacies. We made the mistake earlier of speaking for you when we have no right to. We won’t make the same mistake twice. You plan for a twenty-member team?”