I gave him a nod and put the truck in reverse. I checked the rearview mirror before I pulled out into the road, and slammed on the brakes.

Whitney stood in the street behind my truck wearing a tank top, cutoffs, and sneakers. Her black hair blew in the wind, and her blue eyes were filled with tears.

The tears slayed me. I slammed the truck into park and ripped open the door. “Blue. Please.”

“You get your ass inside, girl.” Her father cocked the shotgun.

Whitney squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear streaked down her cheek.

“Just come with me. Please.”

Her expression, so torn, it shred me to pieces.

“We can fix this. I promise.”

Whitney’s lips pressed together.

“Get your ass inside, girl. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Whitney whipped her head toward her dad as he stomped toward us, shotgun in hand. He was only thirty feet away and closing. I had no idea what he’d do to her when I left.

That thought and the potential answers made my decision for me.

“I’m not leaving you here with him. No way in hell.” I held out my hand. “All you have to do is put your hand in mine.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, girl. I will beat you—”

“Not on my watch.” I stepped between Mr. Gable and Whitney. “You’ll have to shoot me first.”

He lifted the shotgun. “That can be arranged.”

Whitney’s fingers slid against mine. “Hurry.”

I grabbed her hand and we jumped in the truck before he started shooting.

Twenty-Nine

Whitney

Present day

All I want to do is pretend like this day never happened. Rewind. Undo.

But that’s not how life works. If I could do that, I’d be living like Groundhog Day, because my life has been one big mess of bad decisions. And most of them can be traced right back to Lincoln Riscoff.

Why is it that we can’t stay away from each other when we know it always ends badly? And this time I didn’t even have to be near him to unleash chaos.

Regardless of how horrible his mother is, I hope she’s okay. I hope her “episode” was a ploy to manipulate Lincoln, and that I didn’t actually cause her to have a heart attack.

I park Jackie’s car in the driveway and walk around the house to the gate in the backyard. I can’t stomach the thought of dealing with Karma right now. I’ve got enough on my mind with Magnus’s cryptic words in my head. He thinks I should stay. I don’t know how to do anything but run. Where else could I go? Where else would I want to go? My list is filled with a whole lot of blank spaces.

Maybe Magnus is right, and it’s time I start making decisions based on what I want rather than what I feel like I’m forced to choose.

I slip inside the backyard gate and walk toward the shed.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Karma drawls with a tone as catty as her comment.