He was so angry the edges of his vision pricked with a painful white light, and even though he was behind the wheel, he briefly squeezed his eyes shut. Lisa had done it again. She’d talked to Clayton about Darren, and Clayton, alarmed by the situation, had tried to protect his nephew by going straight to Bell and telling her to back off. Worse, he’d threatened to frame her in some way if she didn’t stop messing with Darren and give the gun back. Bell’s voice was cracking now. She seemed genuinely hurt that her son had sold her out like this, never mind that she had been low-key blackmailing him for weeks. “When it was just between you and me, it was like it was something special, something only I could protect you from,” she said now, twisting logic to turn this whole thing into an act of maternal care and protection. “But Clayton ruined everything.”

“No, Mama, no.”

“If that DA asks me something now, I gotta protect myself, son.”

“Just hold on,” Darren said, his voice rising with desperation. “There’s nothing to do. Keep everything the way it was till I can get back to San Jacinto County, and I promise you I can make this right again. You good on money for a while?” His stomach flipped again, and this time he thought he might actually vomit. He was sick of himself, his mother, this whole situation. And he was angry with Clayton and, especially, Lisa in a way that made his brain feel like it was on fire. He turned up the A/C in the truck. “Did Mack get some of your rent money over to Puck?”

“I don’t want that man nowhere near me,” she barked. “Does he know?”

“That you found his gun?”

“Yes.”

“No, ma’am,” Darren said. “I’m trying to protect him from all this.”

“You need to be worried about your own damn self, ’cause I’m telling you, I don’t know what I might do. If that Mr. Vaughn come calling—”

“Don’t do anything, Mama,” he said firmly. “I’ll make this right.” He hung up, hating himself for begging his blackmailer to hold on till he could give her more money, anything to keep her from doing something rash.