2. Ava

TWO

AVA

My tears had finally dried. After I left the cemetery, I'd had to pull off into a gas station parking lot and sob for a few minutes. Seeing Blayne at Liam's grave had made me more emotional than I'd expected. The anger and fresh hate in his eyes had hurt more than I thought it would. My timing couldn't have been worse.

It's not like I'd been in a good headspace when I'd run into Blayne. The night before, Dad decided to have a remembrance party for Liam. Everyone who'd known or worked with him had come over. There'd been toasts and stories and lots of tears. The tears were mostly from me. It had been a decade since he'd passed, but the pain was still fresh.

Seeing Liam's brother the very next morning had almost been too much. It was like Fate herself was sitting there with a bucket of popcorn, laughing her ass off and watching me squirm.

The worst part was seeing his face. Blayne looked so much like Liam. They hadn't been identical, but there was a strong resemblance. The curve of the jaw, the nose, the eyes. Seeing him in that moment had almost been like stepping back in time and looking at the man I had loved once more.

Thinking about my father did not help my emotional state. The entire reason I'd come back home was to be with him. The phone call from Uncle Mike a few weeks ago had been a kick in the gut. My dad was sick. Cancer. My father, who'd always seemed indestructible, was being eaten alive by that awful disease. Mike had assured me they'd caught it in time and that it was treatable, but that didn't make it any better. I'd called a local realtor that night to start looking for a short-term rental.

Mike had told me I could crash at the house, but there was no way in hell I wanted to do that. For at least four generations, I'd been the only girl in the entire Francis family. That was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that I'd always had protection, and my grandmothers, when they'd been alive, had doted on me like crazy. The curse was that none of my uncles or cousins knew what the hell to do with a girl. It was always an overload of testosterone, especially given what they did for a living. Staying in a house full of partying gangsters did not sound like the most relaxing thing.

The cross-country drive had taken me four days, and with every mile closer to Lilly Valley, I'd thought more about Liam and Blayne. The horror of that night all those years ago had played out a dozen times in my mind. As awful as it had been to see Liam's dead body, the agony I'd seen on Blayne's face had been almost as terrible. I couldn't remember ever seeing someone so angry and hurt in my life.

The day before the party, my realtor let me know that she'd found me a place, and I'd signed the lease digitally before going to bed. It was part of the reason I'd stopped to see Liam. The real-estate app had shown that the rental was about half a mile past the cemetery. It seemed like it was meant to be, what with it being the anniversary of his death.

I'd swung by on the way to my new place…and there was Blayne.

I hadn't even considered that I might run into Blayne at Liam's grave, of all places. Blayne had left Lilly Valley the day Liam was buried, and I'd assumed he'd stayed away. Then Dad told me that he'd moved back home and started a business with some buddies. That information had set me on edge, but as small as Lilly Valley was, I'd assumed I'd still be able to avoid him if I was careful. That plan had evaporated in less than a week.

I pulled into the driveway of my new place and was pleasantly surprised. The pictures hadn't done it justice. The envelope the realtor had given me the day before held a security fob that would open the garage and a set of keys. I hit the button on the fob and watched the door rattle up. I left my SUV in the driveway and unloaded the few boxes and suitcases I'd been able to pack inside it.

Unpacking helped get my mind off what had happened earlier. It only took fifteen minutes to empty the boxes and chuck them into the garage to dispose of later. One thing that had taken a huge load of stress off was that the place came fully furnished. It looked like everything had been purchased in the late-nineties, but it worked for my needs.

Once I was unpacked, I desperately wanted a shower, but I settled on washing my face. I'd take a bath later that night.

Just as I'd finished drying off my face, a loud knock pounded on the door. I jumped and dropped my towel.

The knock sounded again, more aggressive and insistent. I grabbed the towel from the floor and hurried to the door, not even thinking about who might be on the other side. Driven by the demanding nature of the visitor's knock, I unlocked the door and swung it open.

It took everything in me not to faint. Blayne. Had I thought he'd looked angry when he saw me at cemetery earlier? That didn't even come close. Now, he looked absolutely apoplectic.

I didn't even have the chance to ask what he was doing there before he spoke.

"Was this on purpose? Some sick fucking joke?" he asked as he leaned toward me.

What was he talking about? I shook my head and frowned at him. "What joke, Blayne? I don't know what you mean."

With a withering look, he swung his hand around and pointed at the house across the street. "I live right there. Did you rent this place on purpose to fuck with me? Is that it? Because that's some sick shit, even for you."

Dawning horror descended on me. The odds were astronomical. Completely beyond belief. I'd managed to rent the house right across the street from the person who seemed to hate me more than anyone else in the world. Along with the horror was a rising irritation at Blayne's audacity to come over here and accost me like this.

I despised confrontation. I actively ran from it in most cases, but that was only because it was exhausting. I'd taken enough shit from Blayne this morning, and I was done. He was opening his mouth to blast me with another tirade, and I was not going to let that happen.

"Stop it," I said, putting enough power and venom in my voice to make his jaw clap shut. "Please stop, Blayne. I had no clue you lived across the street. I needed a freaking place to rent and this was all that was available in my price range. So just get over yourself. I don't like being yelled at for something that isn't my fault. Okay?"

All I could see in his eyes was anger, and I could tell he didn't really believe me. Seeing his face hurt me deeply. Pain radiated through my chest at how much they looked alike. He and Liam had been twins. Not identical, but they had looked incredibly similar. This was probably how Liam would have looked if he'd lived, at least in the face. Blayne had always been a bit bigger than Liam. Broader shoulders, thicker chest, more muscular arms. He was his own man, though. Maybe if they'd both survived, the brothers would look more different than I remembered.

In fact, Blayne looked even bigger than he did back then. There'd always been something boyish about the younger twin, though. Liam had always seemed more adult than his schoolboy brother, even though they were the same age. Now? I couldn't help but see how imposing and powerful Blayne seemed. It irritated me that I noticed it.

Blayne broke me out of my thoughts with his next statement. "Well, we were gonna find each other anyway." He pinched the bridge of his nose like he was fighting off a headache.

"Huh? What does that mean?"

Dropping his hand, he sighed and gave me a much less angry look. "Can we talk? There's something important I need to tell you."

First, he's screaming and cussing at me, and now he wants to have a conversation? It was the anniversary of his brother's death, but that wasn't a good enough reason to suddenly go through these weird flip-flops.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head. "Well, talk then. If it's that important."

He heaved a frustrated sigh. "Look, it's a long story, and I don't want to do it standing on the porch." He turned and looked back at his house, pausing to think about something. What? I had no clue. When he turned back around, he looked resigned. "How about this? Can we meet somewhere tomorrow so we can get this over with?"

Get what over with? Blayne was acting strange, but whatever he wanted to discuss seemed to mean a lot to him. He was anxious about it. If hearing him out could get him to stop hating me, I'd give it a shot.

"Okay, fine. How about coffee? Say, eight tomorrow morning? There's a place right downtown."

He nodded. "I know the place. Sure. That sounds good."

Without so much as a goodbye, Blayne spun on his heel and stomped back to his house.

I watched him go, the ache in my chest surging. He walked the same way Liam had—swaggering hips, shoulders back and proud, lithe as a cat.

It was like a picture into the past.

Suddenly, I didn't want to be alone. After looking into those eyes that were so much like Liam's, the last thing I wanted was to sit in this empty house. In fact, there was only one thing I wanted at that moment. As childish as it sounded in my head, I wanted my daddy.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my keys and got in my car. I didn't even glance at Blayne's house as I left. As I drove, I felt even sillier. I'd only left Dad's place a couple of hours ago, and now I was running back. Maybe I should have done as Uncle Mike suggested and crashed there. I'd have been in a much less awkward situation than I was now.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up in front of the big house he'd lived in my whole life. My father was stepping out onto the brick front porch and waving at me.

"How did you know I was pulling up?" I asked as I got out of the car.

He chuckled and pointed a thumb at the house. "Saw your car pulling up the drive on the security camera."

My face must have betrayed my emotions. As soon as I was halfway up the steps toward him, my dad's smile faded and a look of concern creased his brow. He grabbed me and pulled me into a tight bear hug.

Gio Francis was a man feared by many. Almost no one in town—or the state, for that matter—dared do anything that would anger or upset him. It was no secret what he and the rest of my family did, at least through word of mouth. The police had never been able to dig up any evidence they could use to arrest them. Deep down, I knew what they did was wrong . But they were family. I loved my father. Loved him as much as I loved anyone in the world. I loved my entire family. My uncles, cousins, everyone. They all loved me in return, and love was bigger than what you did for a living. I squeezed him back as hard as he hugged me.

"It's not easy being home again, is it?" Dad asked.

With a shake of my head, I let go and took a step back. "Nope. It doesn't help that you're sick. How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'll be fine, baby. Don't worry about me."

"Have you scheduled your first chemo treatment?"

A shadow passed over his eyes, and I guessed the answer before he spoke. "Not yet. I've still got time."

I gritted my teeth. "Dammit, Dad. Stop being stubborn. There are some things even the great Gio Francis's ego can't overcome. Sometimes you need more than strength of will. I can't lose you, too. Don't you understand that?"

A shadow of shame and fear passed across his face as my words struck their target. He lowered his voice, unable to meet my eyes. "It'll make me weak."

I nodded. "Yeah, that's the point. It'll take a toll on your body, but it takes a bigger toll on the cancer."

A smile that seemed sadder than it should spread across his lips. "And I'll lose all this beautiful hair."

I laughed despite myself. Dad was already bald. The shiny pate atop his head hadn't changed in all the years I'd been alive. Sometimes I wondered if he'd ever had hair. All the photos of him, even those of him as a child, he'd sported a shaved, bald head. If I ever saw a picture of him with hair, I'd probably faint.

My laughter made his smile grow warmer, and I could tell hearing it made him feel better. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, then took me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes.

"All right, kiddo. No one has ever said Gio Francis was a coward. I'm not gonna let a doctor and his medicine turn me into one. I'll have Mike call the hospital and get me into treatment as soon as possible. Sound good?"

Tears sprang to my eyes. I'd been so certain he'd refuse to get treatment, that he'd be dead this time next year. Knowing that he was going to get help took a massive weight off my chest.

I smiled and wiped at my eyes before wrapping my arms around him again. Being held in my father's embrace was exactly what I needed to get my mind off Blayne.