I pick up the phone to call Commodore, but he doesn’t answer, which seems to be the pattern of the day. I don’t know what the old man’s game is this time, but I’m not playing it.

I’ve already lost ten years of the life I wanted, and I’m not going to risk losing Whitney again. I fucked up badly enough this morning, and I have a long road to fixing things with her and regaining her trust.

When she looked at me from Magnus’s doorway, I saw the change on her face before she spoke the words. It gutted me to hear how I’ve hurt her, but I deserved that and more.

I’m older, wiser, and I know better—and yet I’m still making the same mistakes. But not anymore.

I push away from the desk and stand to stretch. I told Whitney I had no ulterior motive and that I only wanted to protect her and her family. That’s true.

But there’s another unspoken truth that goes along with it—I won’t not let this opportunity pass without giving everything I have to do what I failed to do once before.

Make her fall in love with me.

I’m not a man who accepts defeat, even in the face of impossible odds. If there’s a single chance that I can win Whitney Gable, I won’t back down.

Sixteen

Lincoln

The past

I wasn’t too proud to admit that I had people watching Jackie Gable’s house. I’d been waiting for another chance to try to talk to Whitney, and as soon as I got the text that Asa Gable was gone, I jumped in my truck and hauled ass over there.

When I knocked, footsteps came and I tensed, readying myself to see her face.

Except it wasn’t her.

No, it was Ricky Rango.

Fucking hell.

My guy must not have known Rango was here. Then again, how would he? Mr. Rock Star didn’t have a fucking car to signal that he was here.

“What the fuck do you want?” Rango stepped out of the house and shut the door behind him before crossing his arms over his chest. He was going for the tough-guy act, but the tattoos wrapping around his arms didn’t intimidate me.

“I’m here for Whitney.”

“She’s busy.”

“She’ll get unbusy to see me.” I didn’t care that I sounded arrogant. This asshole needed to know that I wasn’t impressed by him or his fifteen minutes of fame.

“If it’s up to me, she’ll never see you again, Riscoff.”

This fucking prick.

“Good thing it’s not up to you.”

“It damn well is. She’s my girl. Always has been and always will be. Doesn’t matter if we hit a few bumps in the road. Whitney and I are for life.”

I controlled my temper because all I wanted to do was sink my fist into this asshole’s face. “You fucked around on her, she dumped your ass and then fell for me . . . and you’re calling it a bump in the road?”