Angel bent close to Duke as he slumped into the chair, miserable. Her voice soft, she said, “I wish life was easier, Duke. And I do believe in you. But I still think the only way you’re going to have peace in your life, or be able to find any joy in your days, is if you stop hiding stuff. You can’t live a lie. It’ll kill you.” She grimaced. If only she would take her own advice.

Duke stood up. “Angel, enough. You don’t understand. I’m doing this. I have to.” He held his hand out to her. “Are you still willing to get your picture taken with me? I’d like to get this over with.”

This conversation? This date? What did he want over? In the beginning, she’d helped him because he was decent to Jose. Then she stuck with him because he’d made her feel special and wanted, for far too short a time. She didn’t ask for clarification, simply followed him down the stairs, a tight, fake smile on her face. She could front with the best of them. As Aaron and Frank approached them, she thought, And I got what I wanted out of this meeting at the Peacock, right?

Walking toward the bar, the thumping music grew louder and a wall of cologne seared her nostrils. God, I hate this place.

Duke was crushed. How can they think that about me? He stood over his kitchen sink and cracked a beer. After one sip he dumped it down the drain. He desperately wanted to forget the last few days, but he also wanted to avoid a hangover. He felt bad enough.

Both his pops and Angel believed it was possible Duke had shot his friend.

Angel. The young nursing student had been so beautiful, so perfect in a simple black dress, as clear-eyed and in-the-moment as always. He admired her. But she obviously could not say the same about him.

After the anticlimactic dinner with Angel, he’d come home and wandered around his empty house for a time, using the last of his willpower to keep from leaving scathing voice messages for Regina. Just wait. Figure out what her game is first.

His father banged in through the kitchen door. “I got it.” Willis held up a thumb drive. “You sure you want to see this?”

“Show me.” Duke pushed his laptop across the table. He watched closely as his pops loaded the video and hit Play.

Instantly, Duke was triggered. His brain felt stuttery and his hands shook. The screaming, the loud bangs and exploding glass, the chaos of running bodies … The video was shot from ground level, by someone lying on the floor, with half the screen obstructed by a tabletop.

“How could Regina think to record this, Pops?”

“That woman has no heart.”