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7.

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THAT NURSE WAS AS BEAUTIFUL as her sisters. He could see why his boy had been so enamored of her twin. Enamored enough to do some pretty stupid shit to get the twin’s attention.

It had cost Jay his life.

Clive didn’t know what he was doing there alongside the road, waiting for her again.

He’d followed that nurse home tonight. He’d seen her car when she’d pulled onto the small highway that led toward the edge of the county where all the Tylers lived. And he’d followed. Just like that.

Like he had all those times before.

Possibly just like Jay had the girl’s twin.

Had his son watched the twin and just wondered what she was doing? Imagined taking her clothes off and taking her to her bed nearby?

Maybe. Maybe by following this girl he could understand his son’s fascination. Understand why Jay had come after her again after three years in jail. There had to be something about those girls that had been worth dying for. There had to.

Otherwise, Jay’s death made no sense at all.

Clive could walk up on that Tyler porch, burst through the door, and take that girl. Just take her, kill her, and leave her in a damned field somewhere her family would never find her.

Make those Tylers and Mastersons pay for the way they had taken his Jay from him.

Clive just stared as the lights inside the Tyler ranch told him exactly where the girl was. Perci. Her name was Perci. He’d known her for years now. Had made a point of making sure she knew him.

Perci had been in the barn that day with his boy.

He’d heard she’d almost burned alive. That she’d saved her twin’s life. That she was a heroine. That she’d almost died.

Like his son had.

But she was fine now, had made a damned movie, and was screwing around with the fourth Masterson brother. A doctor.

They’d marry soon. Have kids of their own. Perfect children who wouldn’t screw up to the same extent that Jay had. The Mastersons had old money, lots of land, and owned the damned hospital, as well.

She would prosper. While his son turned to dust. While Clive’s dreams for his son did, as well.

Clive’s phone buzzed. He checked it quickly.

It was Maria. His stepson—and nephew—Clint’s neighbor. She thought it was getting her in good with Clive, letting him know what was going on with the boy. Maria thought Clive would care that his wife’s granddaughter was growing up without a mother. Just like her two boys had. But that child wasn’t any relation of Clive’s other than a great-niece—he was no damned grandfather to that child, and he and Clint had both agreed on that.

But he hadn’t told Maria that.

Not with him wanting a warm body in his bed at night. Maria was more than willing.

What would Maria think if she knew he was outside this redheaded girl’s home, staring at her silhouette through the window shade?

Probably nothing good.

Just like his son Jay had been.

Nothing good.

Damn it, why had Jay been so stupid?

Clive stayed exactly where he was as the hours passed.

Staring at her bedroom window and wondering what about her and her sisters had been worth his son dying over.

As the sun rose over the mountains, he was no closer to getting those answers.