Page 5 of Epilogue Legacy

My eyes closed again. This was not a fucking emergency. I scratched my abs. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Dad’s closed it for the week to celebrate Ares and Fawn,” I said. Prinze Jewelers was one of my family’s many businesses. It was also one I’d probably be taking over once I retired from football.

“What? Are you kidding⁠—”

“I’m not. Now go the fuck to sleep.” I swore to God, this dude got so fucking bored without his girlfriend to entertain him. A night away from Aspen and Thatcher was losing his shit.

“D, no. I need the store open. I have a piece to get and it can’t wait.”

“Well, it’s going to have to. Go to bed.” I started to hang up again, but he pleaded with me.

“Dorian, I don’t ask you for anything.”

I opened my eyes again. “Yeah, you do.”

“I do, but not a lot. This is important. It’s a gift for Aspen, and she just texted that she’s coming in tomorrow.”

“Okay, so I’ll open the store for you in the morning and get it.”

“Tomorrow morning will be too late. I’m picking her up from the airport first thing.”

I gritted my teeth. “Thatcher…”

“Please, please, please, D. Can you meet me there tonight? You do that, and I’ll never bother you with anything again.”

Fat chance this fucker would honor that. When I glanced down, I realized I wasn’t the only one up and dealing with this. Sloane was smiling at me. It was a sleepy smile accompanied by a knowing look, and I knew I was about to get out of this bed.

I swear to God, this fucker owed me a million.

I met my so-called best friend downtown. He was standing at the door in a black hoodie and ball cap like he was about to rob the place. Thatcher came out of the shadows. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Save it,” I grunted. Still, he put his big bear arms around me. He squeezed, and I almost dropped my fucking keys. My eyes narrowed. “You don’t ask me for shit after this.”

“I promise.”

Again, fat chance on that. I let us inside after turning off the security. I didn’t need my dad thinking someone was actually robbing the place.

I strode inside. “I’m assuming the piece is in the vault.”

“High-priority vault.”

I whipped around, and Thatcher shrugged. He had his spiked earrings in and they danced when his shoulders lifted.

“I wanted her gift to be nice,” he said, striding around me. The high-priority vault was for pieces that were so valuable they couldn’t be in the regular vault. AKA they were expensive as fuck. Like anything-over-a-million-dollars expensive as fuck.

“You must have really fucked up,” I said, and he laughed. But I wasn’t joking. “One sec. I’ll be back with it.”

“Don’t look at it,” he basically shouted at my back, and I turned around again. He rubbed his neck. “It’s just that… it’s just for her, you know?”

Okay.

Shrugging that off, I went back to the high-priority vault. I found the box labeled Thatcher Reed. It was small and square, which was typical for a piece in the store.

I came back out, and the relief Thatcher had caused me to eye him. He really was panicking that he wasn’t going to have whatever this was.

“Thanks,” he said.