First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,97

the distance, sirens sound.

And this is the part when I wake up for the second time.

To reality.

And that reality is my life.

It hurts more now than it ever did before, because I think, deep down, there was a part of me that believed she would come back. She’d change her mind, realize that leaving was a mistake, and she’d come back to me. But now… now she has nothing to come back to. And I… I wasn’t enough to come back for.

“Jesus Christ, Connor,” Dad says, rushing toward me, his face switching from blue to red caused by the lights of his ambulance. “Is Trevor in there?”

“No, he’s already gone.”

My eyes are glued to the house again, and I take in the fire in all its glory, watch as the roof starts to cave in, and then I remember…

I remember what she said the night we sat on her porch and a car drove by and fucking shot up the place with a paintball gun. I remember Ava’s screams, Ava’s tear-filled eyes when she looked up at me. And I remember what she said…

“Sometimes I wish I could just set this whole fucking place on fire and leave and never look back.”

“Jesus,” Dad says, “this is terrible for them.”

“No,” I murmur. “It’s kind of beautiful.”

Chapter 41

Connor

For weeks, the remnants of Ava’s house are taped off while the fire marshal investigates the cause of the fire. According to Dad, who shares a station with the fire department, they’re leaning toward an electrical fault. Apparently, multiple fires were started at around the same time in different areas of the house, which is how, even though the fire department got there fast, the fire was able to spread quickly, not leaving much of the house behind.

The whispers and the gossip have died down over the weeks. First, it was that Miss D came back in the middle of the night and threw a grenade through the window. Then it was how the ex-neighbor came back and torched the place assuming everyone was still living there. And then the ones about me—the pissed off ex-boyfriend who found out Ava was cheating on me with Peter, and then Trevor, and then Peter and Trevor.

This town, man… no wonder they wanted the fuck out of here.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” asks Dad, flattening a map across the coffee table. He and Michael are here planning a cross-country road trip. They had initially planned to leave once I was all set up at Duke. I tried to convince them to leave as soon as they could, but they worried about me—both of them—and so we met in the middle. The day after I graduate, they’re taking an RV and seeing the country until they make it back to Florida and start a new life, where they plan to live freely and openly in each other’s love.

So.

Do I want to go with them? Hell no.

Do I appreciate them asking? Definitely.

“I think I’m good,” I tell them. “I’ll just hang here until the lease is over, throw a few ragers, experiment with some heavy drugs, and get arrested.”

Dad grunts.

Michael chuckles. “Sounds like a decent plan to me.”

“Right?” I like Michael. He’s a good guy, and it’s pretty damn clear that my dad is smitten. And maybe it’s because I’d never actually witnessed Dad in relationships with either gender, but it didn’t take me long to get comfortable with seeing them together. Though, they do keep any displays of physical affection private, so that probably helps.

“Are you expecting someone?” Dad asks when headlights shine through our living room window.

I shake my head. “No. You?”

He shakes his head too.

We both look at Michael. “Nobody even knows me here,” he mumbles.

A car door slams shut, and then another, and I get to my feet, peer out the window. Rhys and Karen are marching up my porch steps. Well, Rhys is marching, and Karen’s running after him. I open the door just as Rhys raises his fist to knock.

“I’m sorry!” Karen rushes out. “He’s drunk, and he got in his stupid car, and I had to follow him to make sure he got here safe, but he’s on a war—”

“You drove drunk?” Dad interrupts.

But Rhys ignores him, too focused on me. Rage forms in his glare as he points a finger at my chest. “You motherfucker!”

“Whoa!” Michael stands. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry,” Karen says again.

But Rhys is too lit, too ready to lay it all out between us.