Tainted Legacy (YA Paranormal Romance) Read online

  Tainted Legacy

  By

  Amity Hope

  If you enjoy Tainted Legacy, you can find Amity Hope and her future works listed on Goodreads and Facebook.

  Chapter 1

  Her daddy always told her life was a never ending lesson in humility. Ava St. Clair decided that what she was doing today qualified as a crash course. She gingerly held the blue plastic bag in one hand and Hercules’ leash in the other.

  Ava paced herself behind the Great Dane, trying to maximize the exercise potential of his daily walk before she returned him to Mrs. Fitz, his owner. She was a member of Pastor St. Clair’s parish. She was recovering from a hip replacement, leaving her unable to take her beloved Hercules for his daily constitutional. Ava had been volunteered for the job. Given that Hercules was used to being walked in the morning, he was vibrating with contained energy by the time she retrieved him after school.

  For the past week, as soon as she got home she changed into running shorts and a t shirt, flipped her hair into a pony tail and slid on her running shoes. She would retrieve Hercules and off they would go, trekking block after block of the small town of Hunter Falls.

  Ava’s family lived near the heart of town, only blocks from their church, which was almost at its center. Houses and shops of all varieties bloomed outward. Ava’s school, the candy shop where she worked and the movie theater were all within walking distance. She’d already passed them all on her jog, looping around in a circle she was nearly back home.

  “We’re almost there, boy,” she told him in warning.

  The spires of the church a few blocks away were visible behind the treetops as they approached Mrs. Fitz’s houscks and e. Ava’s feet rhythmically slapped the sidewalk and her ponytail kept up the same beat as it bounced off her back.

  Hercules whined, as if he understood what her words meant.

  “Sorry, Hercules, this is all the time I have for tonight,” she cooed, easily breathing despite the miles they’d covered. “I have a calculus test tomorrow and a paper due on The Scarlet Letter.”

  He whined again.

  “I know what you mean. I’d rather run all night than write about The Scarlet Letter. Everyone in class gives me funny looks. Like, just because I’m a pastor’s daughter I should be taking particular offense to such an egregious sin. I don’t though,” she told him, clarifying her thoughts on the matter. “I mean, I’m not any more offended than anyone else ought—”

  She cut herself off midsentence when her attention was snatched away from the enormous dog.

  The St. Clair’s home was only a few doors down from Mrs. Fitz’s. Theirs was a lovely two-story home, neatly trimmed in gray siding, black shutters, a red door and white front porch.

  An unusual occurrence was under way on the sidewalk between her home and Hercules’ master’s. Two young men, whom Ava had first assumed were just messing around, appeared to be in the midst of a rather boisterous fistfight.

  “Hey!” Ava exclaimed. To Hercules delight, she quickened her pace to a full-blown run, covering the last half of the block in mere seconds.

  The men appeared to be about the same size, though it was hard to tell as one was flat on the ground while the other was atop him, his back to Ava, administering brutal blows.

  “Stop it!” she commanded as she administered a rather vicious shove to the male who appeared to be doing the attacking. She’d forgotten she was holding the blue bag of Herculean sized poo. She shrieked and jumped back out of splattering range as it exploded against the back of the assailant.

  He let out a feral growl as he leapt to his feet, gave his victim a last brutal kick and shoved Ava as he flew by. She hit the ground hard enough to make her teeth clatter but she didn’t stay down for long. She scrambled over to the boy on the sidewalk. Hercules had beaten her to him and he was sniffing him invasively.

  In a very ineffective maneuver, the boy groaned and attempted to swat the dog away.

  Ava yanked on his leash with the same paltry results. Next she opted for shoving him with her entire body so as to clear the way between herself and this stranger who had beenptewho had attacked right outside of her home.

  “Are you okay?” she asked as she knelt down beside him. “Oh goodness, you’re bleeding. You’re not okay.”

  “I’m fine,” he mumbled as he moved into a sitting position.

  “Hercules!” Mrs. Fitz cried from her front porch. The screen door slammed shut behind her as she scooted herself closer for a better view. “What’s going on?” she called to Ava. “I saw you run past and by the time I got my walker to peek out the window I saw that…that…hoodlum! I saw him push you to the ground! Should I call the police?”

  “No!” Ava and the stranger called at the same time. “Everything is fine. He didn’t hurt me,” Ava said, trying to place a fair level of assurance into her tone. “If you could just take Hercules back inside…? I’ll help…” her voice trailed off.

  “Gabe,” he told her.

  “I’ll help Gabe. Don’t you worry about a thing, Mrs. Fitz. You just go back in the house and rest. I’ll get Gabe all fixed up.”

  The elderly lady hesitated, clearly weighing whether or not she should interfere or simply trust Ava’s judgment.

  “Come here, Hercules!” she called. The dog immediately bounded across the lawns and up the steps, his leash trailing behind him. “You’re a good girl Ava!” she called before going back inside.

  “Ava,” Gabe mumbled.

  “Yes?”

  “No. Nothing. It’s just…that’s your name?” he asked around lips that were starting to swell.

  “Yes, my name is Ava, Ava St. Clair. I live right here,” she said, vaguely motioning to the house behind them. “If you come inside I can get you some ice for your lip…and your eye. Some antiseptic would probably be a good idea as well,” she informed him as her eyes drifted over his face, quickly assessing the injuries he had obtained.

  He eyed her house hesitantly. “That’s okay. Maybe if I just sit here a second…”

  “It’s no trouble,” Ava insisted. “And you’re hurt.”

  “Right,” he said as he swiped at his lip. Crimson smeared across the canvas of his hand. “I’m bleeding. I wouldn’t want to get blood on your carpets.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Ava told him as she stood. She reached out a hand to help him to his feet. He refused it, staggering to his feet on his own. Now that he was vertical Ava realized how incredibly tall he was. “You can come in,” she told him as she looked up at him.

  “No,” he said determinedly. He was looking at her house in a way that made Ava think of dilapidated buildings or,buildin sinister haunted mansions.

  “Alright,” Ava said carefully. “Would you wait here?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other, giving her house another pessimistic glance. “Sure,” he finally decided.

  She slipped through the front door, gathering what she needed as quickly as she could. She returned, her arms overflowing with a myriad of first aid supplies. She had convinced herself Gabe would be gone by the time she returned. He wasn’t. He had seated himself on the bottom step of the porch. She sat down next to him.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked, leaning in to swipe some of the blood away with the cool washcloth.

  He flinched when her antiseptic laden finger swiped across his cut lip. “No, not at all,” he muttered.

  “Sorry,” she said with a shake of her head, letting what she assumed to be sarcasm make sense of his denial. “That was a stupid question. Of course it hurts.”

  “Didn’t I just say it didn’t?” he asked.

  “Of course you would say that. That’s what guys do. Talk
all tough. Act all tough. So, just to warn you, this will sting,” she advised. She held his cheek in one hand to steady his head as she swabbed the alcohol drenched cotton ball against the gash.

  He drew a sharp breath and winced before taking her hand and setting it on her knee, a safe distance away from him. “This isn’t really necessary. I’m sure it looks a whole lot worse than it is.”

  “Here,” she said, taking the hint that he didn’t really want her, a stranger, touching him. He took the ice pack she was offering. “For your eye?” she offered up when he didn’t move to use it.

  “Right,” he said with a sigh, resting it over the swelling.

  “So, what happened?” she asked, scooting over to give him some space.

  The look of relief he gave her was instantaneous. She had to wonder if she’d worked up more of a sweat than she’d thought when she was running with the dog. For a moment she thought maybe she ought to scoot even further away but then Gabe started talking.

  “I saw that guy. He was sneaking around the house, looking in the windows. Creeping around, you know? It seemed like he probably didn’t belong there or he would’ve just gone up to the door. So I watched him a minute.” Gabe shook his head. “I just had a feeling he was up to something. I walked up to him and asked him what he was doing…and he took a swing at me.”

  “Do you think we should file a police report?” Ava asked. She was thinking maybe she should’ve had Mrs. Fitz make the call, after all. “I mean, snooping around is bad enoughthis bad e but the fact that he assaulted you really does make it sound like he was up to something.”

  “Nah,” Gabe said with a shrug. “Chances are with the scene he caused he won’t be coming back any time soon.”

  “Okay,” Ava agreed, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “At least your injuries don’t look as bad as I first thought. I mean, now that they’re cleaned up they don’t look nearly as serious.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” Gabe said. He got to his feet as a car came to a stop at the curb. “I better get going.”

  “Right. Well, thanks, for you know, chasing the guy away. I’m sorry you ended up in a fight.”

  “Not a big deal,” Gabe told her. He was already making his way down the sidewalk. He was warily eyeing the car that had parked a few houses down. An elderly gentleman emerged from the front seat. Ava recognized him as a friend of Mrs. Fitz. When Gabe saw him, he quickened his pace.

  “See you around!” he called over his shoulder to Ava.

  “Bye!” she called back, thinking that since she’d never seen him before, seeing him around was unlikely.

  “Who was the bloody boy on the porch?”

  Ava jumped in surprise at the sound of her foster-sister’s voice. “Grier! Where did you come from?”

  Grier shrugged. “I was at the church. I walked home through the alley. Who was the boy?” she asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she watched him saunter away.

  “His name is Gabe.” Ava gave Grier the condensed version of what had happened. She explained how Gabe had seen someone snooping around, had tried to talk to the man and had ended up being attacked.

  Grier swung her suspicious gaze toward Ava. “You believed him?”

  “Of course,” Ava said, gently. Grier, she knew, had had a rough childhood. She did not trust easily. “Why would he lie?”

  “Why would he tell the truth?” Grier countered. She craned her neck to peer down the sidewalk but Gabe had already vanished from their sight.

  ***

  That was close.

  Gabe looked down at the gash on his hand. It was already beginning to heal. Of course his face would be healing now as well. He had some time before the wounds would be gone completely but it was imperative he play his part and then get the hell out of there. It was a risky plan, but it had worked. Ava St. Clair, notorious do-gooder, the cloyingly sweet daughter heret daugof a pastor. She had fawned all over him, just as his own father had predicted.

  He got in his car, which he’d parked around the corner. He ran over the events in his head, wondering if everything would be to his father’s satisfaction.

  “Does it hurt?” she had asked.

  He knew he should have told her ‘yes’. He was there to play off of her sympathies but his pride ran deep. So he had told her the truth and told her ‘no’. Compared to injuries he had sustained in the past, these were equivalent to harmless scratches, nothing more. The injuries would’ve been enough to keep a normal man down.

  He wasn’t normal.

  Despite the rib-cracking kick that had been bestowed upon him, he had managed to climb to his feet. Already, the throbbing had subsided and the numbness set in as his bones began to mend.

  He had not, however, been prepared for the searing pain he would feel as she cupped his jaw in her palm to clean his wound with alcohol. He had heard himself hiss in pain even as he sucked in another breath and jerked his head away. But it wasn’t the alcohol that burned. It was her touch, the way her fingers slid across his skin. He had leaned away, not wanting her to be too near. Instantly, his eyes had fallen to the cross she wore around her neck.

  Gabe had wanted to tear it off, then and there. But that wouldn’t do. He was supposed to win her over. Not terrify her. He had reined in his impulse and let it go.

  For now.

  Perhaps he should have tried to flirt with her a bit. Tried to win her over. If he could have trusted that his face wouldn’t start to heal before her eyes, he would’ve stuck around a little longer. He should have tried to play appreciative-stranger to her accidental-rescuer. He’d have a chance for that later. Now he’d have to wait a while. Give himself an appropriate amount of time for his injuries to heal so it wouldn’t raise questions.

  As he pulled his car into the garage, he let out a satisfied sigh.

  She was prettier than the pictures he’d been given to study. That was a relief. She was taller than average. Her long hair was nearly the same melted-chocolate color as her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy from running, making them stand out against her flawless, olive-toned complexion. She was passably attractive. Still, she wasn’t anything like the girls he was interested in. By comparison, she was really quite dreary.

  Not that it mattered.

  The idea wasn’t for him to be interested in her.

  Ava needed to be interested in him.

  He thought back to when he’d first started studying her.

  “Look at this,” he’d said as he tossed the file to the side in disgust.

  “I don’t have to look at it, I’m the one who compiled it,” Rafe had smugly reminded him. “I did the leg-work, you get the hands-on portion.”

  “This girl? She teaches Sunday School to a bunch of snot-nosed twerps, delivers meals to the homebound and sings in her church choir. Did I also mention she’s an honor student? Most disgusting of all? She teaches a yoga class, the Golden Grannies,” he’d snorted, “down at the senior’s center. What kind of sick person wants to watch a bunch of wrinkly old sacks twist themselves into pretzels? There is something seriously demented about this chick.”

  “Exactly. She clearly has an appreciation for the pathetic. Which is precisely why Father chose you for the task.”

  Rafe’s words echoed in his head, adding to his own, never-ending private chorus of degradation. Rafe was probably right.

  Ava.

  She was so tangled up in her little goody two-shoes role of taking care of him, the poor, hapless, injured stranger. It never occurred to her to ask if he’d managed to cause any damage to the other guy. But there he was standing in front of Gabe, on the wide cement patio that led into his house. If Gabe looked bad, well, even freshly showered, he looked worse.

  Gabe’s lip was split open and his right eye had nearly swollen shut. But it was the other guy’s nose, his usually straight, perfect nose that made Gabe’s split lip quirk up into a smirk.

  “Busted?” Gabe asked as he allowed a cocky grin to take over his face.

  “Go to He
ll,” Rafe muttered.

  “Only after you, big brother,” Gabe said as he slipped into the house, letting the heavy front door swing shut behind him.

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  Chapter 2

  “If envy is one of the seven deadly sins, I am truly damned,” Molly admitted with a content little sigh. She had positioned her lawn chair so that she could maximize her absorption of sunshine. It was still early spring. The last muddy patch of snow was gone. The chill in the air was not. She pulled her sunglasses down even as she pulled the collar of her jacket up.

  Ava smiled at her friend. “You don’t need to be envious. You can come out here any time you want. You know that.”

  She had inherited the cabin from her grandfather. He, like his son, her father, had also been a pastor. In his retirement years, after Ava’s grandmother had passed away, he had chosen to move into the small cabin to enjoy the beauty and solitude of nature. It was nestled right off the shore of a small, pristine lake. Her grandfather had fished year round on that lake. Right up to the day he died.

  Ava was his only grandchild and he had left the cabin to her in his will. She wouldn’t have legal possession of it until she was eighteen but for all intents and purposes, it was hers.

  As cabins went, it was small—one bedroom—and sparse. She’d made the best of it, making it her own the past two years. The walls had all been painted a stark white but she’d spent weeks choosing just the right colors. Now every room was repainted, new curtains hung and new rugs tossed across the wood floors. Just last fall she’d dug up a flower bed in the front. The tulips would be the first to bloom but Ava was sure that was still several weeks away.

  It was the perfect place to spend time with her friends. They had privacy. Like their own private club house. But for big girls, Molly liked to say. They had spent many weekends out here. An air mattress tossed on the floor of the bedroom to accommodate Ava and her two best friends. Her sister, Grier, liked to tag along on these all-girl weekends but typically chose to sleep out on the sofa.