Home > Reason to Believe (Legacy #1)

Reason to Believe (Legacy #1)
Author: Rebecca Yarros

CONTENTS

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Chapter 2

 

Chapter 3

 

Chapter 4

 

Chapter 5

 

Chapter 6

 

Chapter 7

 

Chapter 8

 

Chapter 9

 

Chapter 10

 

Chapter 11

 

Chapter 12

 

Chapter 13

 

Chapter 14

 

Chapter 15

 

Chapter 16

 

Chapter 17

 

Chapter 18

 

Chapter 19

 

Chapter 20

 

Chapter 21

 

Chapter 22

 

Chapter 23

 

Chapter 24

 

Chapter 25

 

Chapter 26

 

Chapter 27

 

Chapter 28

 

Chapter 29

 

Chapter 30

 

Epilogue

 

 

Acknowledgments

 

About the Author

 

Also by Rebecca Yarros

 

 

REASON TO BELIEVE

Copyright © 2021 by Yarros Ink, Inc.

All rights reserved.

 

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ISBN: 978-0-9973831-8-8

 

* * *

 

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations in a book review.

 

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

 

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Editing:

Karen Grove

www.karengrove.com

 

* * *

 

Copy Editing:

Jenn Wood

 

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Cover:

RBA Designs

Created with Vellum

 

 

To Aidan,

My Hulk, my monster,

my zombie apocalypse partner—

Because you held on to your little sister

from the moment the social worker

placed her in our arms

and never let go.

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Knox

 

* * *

 

7 Years Ago

 

* * *

 

I leaned into the fridge and grabbed a couple off-brand sodas. Alcohol would have been preferable—finals week had been a bitch, but there was zero chance Mrs. Anders would have been cool with it.

Ryker? Sure. He was twenty-one.

But I was still twenty for another six months. It was the perpetual curse for having skipped second grade—I was in the same class as my friends but always a year younger.

“Hey, Ry, can you hand me Vic’s boutonniere?” a light, feminine voice asked from behind me. My pulse leapt in response.

With robotic movements, I grabbed the clear box with the white rose from the second shelf and stood to my full height.

I felt her indrawn breath run through every nerve in my body as I slowly turned around, the sight of her making my fingers flex, my grip denting the sides of the flimsy plastic box.

“Knox.” Her eyes widened in surprise, and she finished my name with that breathless hitch that never failed to kick me in the stomach.

“Harper,” I answered, somehow forming the word without swallowing my tongue.

“I…I didn’t realize you were here.” Her long blond hair was up in some kind of soft arrangement that begged for hands to tunnel through it, and her strapless dress—the same blue-green color of her eyes—hugged every damn curve on its way to the floor.

Harper was no longer the little girl who’d followed us around the fire station as we grew up. She was eighteen now. A full-grown woman on her way to her senior prom.

She was also my best friend’s little sister.

Little sister. That was exactly how I was supposed to think of her, considering I’d spent most of my teenage years in this very house, but my thoughts were anything but brotherly as I tracked the swell of her breasts rising with every breath she took. Her lips were full and glossed, her skin flawless, and her lashes impossibly long. In the past year, she’d gone from beautiful—she’d always been beautiful—to…gorgeous. Really fucking gorgeous.

And I was staring.

Speak.

“Just got back today. I drove in with Ryker.” I slid the boutonniere and sodas onto the counter and leaned back against it, drinking in the sight of her.

I wasn’t unaware of the affect she’d always had on me. Oh no, I was all too familiar with it, but I’d kept my hands off Harper for three reasons. The first was that I couldn’t afford to piss off Ryker—he and our best friend, Bash, were the only family I had left besides Grams. The second reason? I had a social and legal rap sheet about a million miles long in this town that proved I was nowhere near good enough to be anything but her friend. The third? I had every intention of becoming a hotshot firefighter just like our dads had been—like Bash already was—and Harper wanted nothing to do with that life.

Not that I could blame her. It had only been four years since the Legacy Mountain fire burned our town—and our fathers—to ash.

“Right.” She flashed a shaky smile and shook her head. “I mean, I knew you were home, I just didn’t know you were in our house.” She winced, her cheeks turning pink. “Not that you shouldn’t be in our house. Of course, you should. You’ve always pretty much lived here and you’re always welcome, you know that. Heck, you have a key. I just didn’t realize that you were…you know, here.” She finished her babbling and laced her fingers in front of her.

God, I’d missed her. There was no point fighting my smile. I’d adored that about her—the babbling. To everyone else in our tiny hometown of Legacy, Colorado, Harper was cool, confident, and completely empowered. But when we got within ten feet of each other, she got flustered. Had to admit, I liked being able to fluster the belle of our little ball. Half the time, I fucked with her just to get her flustered. She was mine in a way no one else was—to fluster, aggravate, protect, and even adore…but never touch.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She smoothed her hands over the high, jeweled waistline of her dress to settle on her hips. “It’s prom night.”

“I noticed.”

She walked forward across the kitchen, reaching past me for the little plastic box. Harper was fucking tiny, a full foot shorter than my six-foot-three height, and even with her wearing heels, I towered over her.

She glanced at the clock on the stove and swallowed hard. “Almost time.” Her hand trembled as she slipped off the silver elastic around the box and then popped open the plastic buttons.

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