I winced, hating how cruel Asa was being. Lord, if he knew I’d run down the cabin’s gravel drive barefoot after Lincoln threw me out, he’d shoot Lincoln dead right where he stood.

The tragedy that followed might have relegated our fight that night to the level of doesn’t matter at all in the grand scheme of things, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever forget the sting of the sharp side of Lincoln’s tongue.

He made me feel like trash, and I never want to feel like that again.

If there was any thought in my head about leaving the house to battle with Asa in order to hear what Lincoln had to say, that thought stopped me.

“You can’t keep me from seeing her. Not forever,” Lincoln said, and Asa let out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe not forever, but for long enough that it won’t matter anymore.”

I didn’t know what my brother meant by that, because his leave wasn’t going to last much longer.

Lincoln stood his ground until Asa raised the gun and sighted in on his head.

Oh Jesus. No. My heart seized and I grabbed the latch of the window, prepared to throw it open and scream down the neighborhood.

I can’t bear to lose him too. I didn’t know where the thought came from, but Lincoln took a few steps back toward his truck.

“That’s right, Riscoff, you keep on fucking walking. And remember, I know a hundred ways to kill you that don’t need a gun. You ever try to talk to my sister again, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“You can try,” Lincoln said. “My family would bury you.”

Asa stepped toward him again. “Come back here, and I’ll bury you first.”

Lincoln climbed into his truck and drove away. I sank to the floor, tears I didn’t remember crying tracking down my face.

Eleven

Lincoln

Present day

“You looking to die today, son?” Magnus Gable calls from the door of his house, shotgun in hand.

What the hell is it with Gables and meeting people with guns? I’ve braved one before to talk to Whitney, and I’ll do it again and again.

“No, sir. I’m here to talk to Whitney. I was on my way to her aunt’s house when Commodore told me I’d find her here instead.”

“Don’t know that she wants to talk to you, boy. She might shoot you, though.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take, but before she does, I need to tell her I’m sorry for this morning. I’d really like to apologize face-to-face.”

Commodore told me everything he’d learned about Ricky Rango and his mom from Whitney, but I didn’t need to hear the details to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she wouldn’t have come back to try to snake a piece of the Riscoff fortune. She could have had it before, but she made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with me or it.

In fact, Whitney’s the only woman I’ve ever met who wanted me despite my last name and our money. But I fucked that up in the end too.