11. Blayne

ELEVEN

BLAYNE

I had no clue how long I'd been asleep. It had to have been a while, though, because when I opened my eyes, my body and mind were more rested than I'd felt in days. Sunlight streamed through the window. From the look of it, the sun was high in the sky, which meant it was probably around lunch time. Five or six straight hours of sleep? No wonder I felt good.

The next thing I noticed was the smell of food cooking. My stomach clenched and saliva squirted into my mouth, making my jaw cramp. I was starving, but who the hell was in my house? My sleep-dazed mind tried to think, and it took a moment for me to remember that Ava had been here. She'd sent me to bed like I was some misbehaving toddler. I sat up in bed and crossed my arms. Maybe I'd stay here and pretend to be asleep until she left.

I was disgusted with myself. Was I seriously contemplating that? Was I a child? What the hell was wrong with me? Jesus. I couldn't sit here acting like a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. It made me look ridiculous.

Scolding myself, I got dressed before leaving my bedroom. As I neared the kitchen, my hunger pangs became more pronounced. Whatever she was cooking smelled amazing. I hadn't had an appetite in almost a week, and my body was in dire need of sustenance.

Ava stood at the stove, stirring something in a big pot with a wooden spoon. I could also smell bread of some kind being baked.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Ava spun around, surprised by my presence. "Oh, hey. Go ahead and sit down. The stew's ready and the corn muffins will be done in a second."

I looked from Ava to the kitchen table and back to her. I wanted nothing more than to have a bowl of the stew that smelled so delicious, but my pride was still too stubborn. "You know you're not my mother, right?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

Ava turned back to me and gave me the exact sort of look a mother would give a back-talking child. "Sit," she said, pointing at a chair with the spoon. A drop of the stew fell from the spoon and hit the floor with a plop .

Raising my hands in surrender, I sat down and watched her. My panther was wary, watching her even closer than I was. Her being here had a strange effect on it. On one hand, seeing her here and knowing that she'd rejected us filled my panther—and me by association—with a devastated longing. I ignored that, but my panther couldn't. On the other hand, watching her in the kitchen and knowing she was nearby seemed to make things seem less awful. Less painful. That irritated me and confused my panther.

Ava pulled the pan of muffins from the oven, and my stomach cramped so hard, I thought I'd fall to the floor. I hadn't realized I was so hungry. She set three of the muffins on a plate, with three massive pats of butter on top. Next, she put a heaping bowl of stew on the same plate and sat it in front of me.

"It's supposed to be my mom's chicken stew. If you do it the right way, it takes, like, eight hours. It's pretty close, though."

The food she'd put in front of me looked amazing. I didn't think her mother could have made anything that looked half this good. The first spoonful hit my tongue and I moaned, literally moaned, in pleasure.

"Holy shit," I mumbled through a full mouth, and popped an entire muffin past my lips.

"I take that to mean I did good?" Ava asked.

Nodding, I shoveled more food into my mouth. I couldn't remember the last time someone had made me a home-cooked meal. Sure, I'd had meals Harley or Celina had cooked when I had dinner at their homes, but to have someone make me something? It had been years. Before I realized it, the bowl was empty, but Ava replaced it with a second steaming bowl before I even had a chance to ask. That helping took longer for me to finish, but eventually that bowl was also empty. I used the last muffin to wipe the remaining sauce from the bowl and popped it into my mouth.

My stomach was satisfied for the first time in days, and it allowed me to think clearly. Without the specter of hunger that had been driving me, I was able to question why Ava was here.

"Is there a reason why you did this for me?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the crumbs on my plate so I wouldn't have to look her in the eyes.

"Are you feeling better? Did the food help? If you're still hungry, I bought you these, too."

I looked up to see her grab a package of Oreo cookies out of a shopping bag and place them in front of me. I stared at the cookies for several shocked moments. Memories washed over me like a flood, casting everything else aside. Liam had always given me his share of Oreos, even though he'd never admitted it. The back of my eyes burned, and I had to blink furiously to stop the tears from spilling over. I hadn't had Oreos in years because they reminded me of Liam too much.

With a shaking hand, I reached forward, tore the top back, and pulled out three of the small cookies. I ate one and couldn't help but smile as I chewed. It was like seeing an old friend. I raised the other two cookies. "I'd almost forgotten how good these were. We don't have any milk, though. That always makes them better."

Without a word, Ava got up, opened my fridge, and pulled out a full gallon of milk. She poured me a glass and set it beside me. "There you go. I went ahead and stocked your fridge and pantry. You had, like, no food."

I shook my head. "Why are you here?"

She looked at me intently. "You need help. I'm here to help you."

"I don't need anyone's help. I'm doing fine," I lied.

"Fine? Right. You look like a starving P.O.W. You may not want to admit it, but I'm the only one who can help you."

"How do you figure that?" I asked, biting into another cookie.

She pointed at my chest. "Your panther is the real reason you're messed up right now. It's depression is affecting you. Tate told me what's going on with you."

Tate? She had gone behind my back to talk to my friends? And he'd told her? What the hell was he thinking?

As though she could hear my thoughts, she gave a slight shake of her head and sent me a warning look. "Don't even think about pissed at your friends. Everyone is just trying to help you. If I'd known this was what was going to happen, I'd have hung around more to make the rejection less painful."

I gritted my teeth, but knew she was right. So was Tate. Nothing I did seemed to be working. If anything, I was feeling worse each day. Did that make me weak? Probably not. Was someone who was dying of some disease weak? No. They were a victim of happenstance. It didn't make them any less of a person. At that moment, I finally understood I couldn't do this on my own.

"Does this mean you're gonna be babysitting me from now on?"

Ava chuckled. "No, it just means I'm gonna be your friend."

A laugh burst unbidden from my lips. It died before it was fully born, though. I could see in her eyes that she was serious. "Ava," I said, my voice hard but not unkind. "We can't be friends. You know that."

"The only reason we can't be friends is because you won't allow it. I know you have hard feelings toward me and my family, and I can't tell you how you should feel about the loss of Liam, or who you're allowed to blame. That is not what we are discussing here. This," she gestured to both of us, "is a whole new thing. Right now, you need me. If you want to be useful to your friends and in whatever battle or war you guys are planning, then you need to get your head out of your ass and find a way to forgive me. Even if it's grudgingly. Because I do not want you dead. I made a promise to take care of you. And by God, I keep my promises, no matter how painful they are."

My gaze slid away from her face to the kitchen table again. I had no words for her. Everything she said made sense, but I was having a hard time accepting it as truth. Too many years of anger and hate had built up a wall that was nearly unbreakable.

When I didn't answer her, she huffed a breath and headed toward the door. My panther whined, and a deep visceral tug pulled at my insides. Before I could react, she stopped and looked back at me. "I'll see you later."

Surprisingly, that single statement calmed my panther down. The knowledge that she would be back, that we'd see her again soon, was a soothing balm on my and my panther's psyche. A moment later, she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

My thoughts were chaotic and jumbled. I sat there for minute after minute, trying to make sense of things. When that didn't work, I headed out to the woods behind the house. Being around nature used to put me at ease. Lately, it didn't do much for me, but I had to hope it would be different this time. I needed to have a little chat with my panther.

Once we were deep into the woods, I asked him what was going on. "Hey, it's me. I know you're in there, even if you won't talk to me. Is this really what you want?" My voice sounded strange in the silence of the forest, but my panther could hear me.

"If we can never mate," I went on, "do you want Ava, as a friend?"

A warm, fuzzy feeling erupted inside me. My panther purred and yowled with pleasure. I burst out laughing, then tears filled my eyes. The surge of emotion surprised me, and I had to put my hand out to steady myself on a tree. Being able to actually communicate with my panther after so long was such a relief. I'd never gone that long without feeling him. It made me realize all that I'd lost.

"I'm sorry, old friend," I said. "I've put you through some shit, and I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

Forgive. That word weighed heavily on me. I was asking my panther to forgive me for putting it through hell. How could I ask for that when I didn't know if I was capable of doing that for someone else? Did I even have it in me to forgive someone? Especially Ava?

My panther was settling and more at ease than he had been in a week. It was the most relaxed I'd been in days. I needed to try. As hard as that was for me, it was the only way to show my panther that I meant it. If he was able to forgive me, then I could try to look past my history with Ava. It would be difficult, but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.