“Unfortunately for you, you don’t get a say. If you would just let go of your hatred of the Gable family for two seconds, you would realize how ridiculous you’re acting.”

“That Gable whore murdered my husband. I will never forget what happened that night.”

Part of me wants to shoot back that he might never have been her legal husband, but I keep that to myself.

When we approach the employee entrance, I try to reason with my mother one more time. “No one will ever forget what happened that night. You can still grieve for your loss. For our loss. But you don’t have to place the blame on Whitney. She wasn’t there. She had nothing to do with it.”

My mother whips around to look at me, anger stamped on her features. “If you think for one moment that Gable women aren’t the downfall of Riscoff men, then you haven’t been paying attention. All I tried to do was protect you from her. From them. All she wanted was your money, and as soon as she knew you weren’t going to get a penny of inheritance from your grandfather, she turned to the arms of another man faster than you could blink. What do you think about that?”

So that’s what she told Whitney all those years ago. That I would lose everything if I chose her.

“When did you tell her that?”

“After your father’s funeral.”

I think back to what happened ten years ago, the events that are burned in my brain. As soon as I piece together the timeline in my head, I know my mother is wrong. Dead wrong.

I start laughing.

“Jesus Christ. Now it all makes sense.” I shake my head. “You didn’t drive her away, Mother. I did that all by myself.”

Forty-Seven

Lincoln

The past

Plink. The window stayed dark.

I found another small rock and launched it at the window of the upstairs bedroom I knew Whitney was sleeping in. I’d bribed the next-door neighbor’s kid who Jackie babysits some nights to get the information. Was I proud of it? No. But I’d do it again.

Tink. The pebble connected, but still no light.

I threw another, and finally, a dim glow lit up the room.

Come on, Blue. I gotta see you. Talk to you. Hold you.

I tossed another pebble, and it clicked on the window just before the sash slid up. Whitney stuck her head out, her dark hair a cloud around her face.

“Whitney.” When I said her name, she looked down at me.

“Lincoln? What are you doing here?”

“Bad impression of Romeo?”

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you. Please.”

She stared down at me for a few moments before she closed the window and the light went out.

Fuck. Seriously? She’s just going to shut me down like that?

All this time I’d been telling myself that it was Ricky and Asa and Karma keeping me away from Whitney, but maybe I was wrong.