When I called Commodore, he warned me to leave her alone. I don’t give a shit what the old man says or threatens. I’m not letting him manipulate this situation anymore. I’m going to fix what I broke this morning, and pray Whitney will give me a real fresh start, even if I don’t deserve it.

Last night is burned in my mind, and so is the softness in her eyes this morning before I blew it all to pieces.

“Might want to say that a little louder, son. Not sure she can hear you.”

At any other time, this might be embarrassing, but I put aside my pride. “Whitney, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she yells. “Being an asshole?”

I take a few more steps forward, even though I’m making myself an easier target. “For not waiting to hear what you had to say before I jumped to conclusions.”

“You mean never trusting me?”

I look up at the sky. She had to go straight for the kill.

She’s right. I have trust issues, especially when it comes to women. My father and Commodore instilled them in me from the time I was a kid. They made it clear that every woman would want something from me because of my last name.

But Whitney was never like that.

“Yes. I should’ve trusted you.”

“Why should I believe you now?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, girl. I like it,” Magnus crows from the doorway where he acts as the peanut gallery while blocking Whitney from my view.

I wish I was doing this without an audience, but when you fuck up like I did, clearly you don’t get that luxury. “Because I wouldn’t put myself out like this for anyone else.”

“I don’t think that’s a good enough explanation,” the old man says.

“Please, Blue. You don’t have to believe me yet, but I’m going to prove it to you. I want to protect you and your family from whatever comes out of this mess. I’ve got rooms for all of you at The Gables. The press won’t be able to get to you there. You’ll be safe and have your privacy back.”

I hear a humph from Magnus before he steps to the side and Whitney’s dark head peeks out of the doorway.

“My entire family?”

“I ain’t goin’. I can take care of myself,” Magnus says, gesturing to the sky with the shotgun.

“Everyone you can talk into coming. I already have Hunter and Cricket working on your aunt and your cousin.”

Whitney’s expression is skeptical, and that’s fair. I can work with skepticism—as long as there are no bullets flying in my direction.

She glances at Magnus. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

He eyes me shrewdly. “You try anything shady and I’ll pepper your ass with buckshot, boy.”

“I understand, sir.”

Magnus backs up, and Whitney comes out of the house to meet me in the driveway. It kills me when I see she’s still barefoot.