Reveling in Sin Read online

  As we walk into the hospital as a unit, I know this won’t be the last time, but I wish it were. Especially because it seems like our lives are irrevocably changed every time we step through these doors.

  It terrifies me what changes could possibly come now, but like I told Cricket—we’ll get through it. We don’t have any other option.

  Jackie meets us in the lobby, and her lined features look like she’s aged ten years since I last saw her. “Thank God, you’re here.” She rushes to Cricket and hugs her.

  “What happened?” Cricket asks with tears already running down her cheeks. “Where are the girls?”

  “Ms. Riscoff has a nanny with them at the hotel for now. Karma didn’t want them to see her like this.”

  Hunter’s expression creases, and I wonder if he’s thinking that if Karma isn’t lying, it’s his responsibility to take care of the girls because she can’t. My heart thuds somewhere down in my stomach as the reality of the situation hits me.

  It must be bad.

  “What did they say?” I ask. “You mentioned surgery? When?”

  “Later this afternoon. They’re going to try to remove the tumor. They just did images of it. They said it’s the size of a cantaloupe.” Jackie bursts into tears, and Cricket squeezes her mom tight.

  “Oh my God, Mom. How is this even possible? How could she think . . .”

  “The doctor explained it all. Ovarian cancer mimics plenty of signs that can make you think you’re actually pregnant, even a positive pregnancy test. Karma said when she took hers a month or so ago, it was positive. She never had a reason to think it was anything but another baby. She didn’t go to the doctor yet because she didn’t want us to find out.”

  I know what we’re all thinking, but no one will say it, because it would make us all heartless, awful people. But the very nature of my cousin’s name suggests that what goes around comes around.

  I don’t want her to suffer or be sick, but this seems like life’s awful way of serving her a reminder that things don’t always go the way we plan.

  “Can I see her?” Cricket asks.

  Jackie swallows and looks sheepish. “She . . . After I called Whit, I told her you were coming, and she said she doesn’t want to see any of you. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity. I’m so sorry. I—”

  Cricket turns away, but not before I see how crushed she is by Jackie’s words.

  Hunter pulls her into his chest and holds her. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

  “Is there anything else you need or that we can do to help, Ms. Gable?” Lincoln asks.

  My aunt shakes her head. “No. Everyone’s been very kind. They said they’re doing everything they can, and for now . . . all we can do is wait until they take her into the OR and get this awful thing out of her.”

  “Good. I’m glad they have a solid plan in place.” Lincoln looks toward the private waiting rooms we’ve both sat in while life as we knew it shifted off its axis. He notices my gaze following his. “There’s another waiting room up on the fourth floor, I believe. In the cancer wing. It’s new and comfortable.”

  How is it possible that my heart feels like it’s breaking for Jackie and Cricket about Karma, but is being held together by Lincoln?

  “If she changes her mind about seeing anyone, I promise I’ll come get you,” Jackie says.

  42

  Lincoln

  I hate feeling powerless and helpless. I can’t fix this for Whitney and her family, and with each tick of the clock in the waiting room, it’s maddening. Everyone in this room has to be struggling with the same conflicting emotions. Angry at Karma for what she’s done, but devastated by what she’s facing. Whitney’s brother ducked in to say hi, but he’s taken it upon himself to stand vigil by Karma’s door, whether she wants him there or not.

  Jackie continues to give us updates, but it’s not until the time is closing in on Karma’s surgery that she asks to see someone.

  Not Cricket, though.

  Hunter.

  “She wants to say something to you, just in case she doesn’t make it out of surgery,” Jackie says with a sob. She’s a strong woman, but I think it’s safe to say that life found her breaking point today.

  “Yes, ma’am. I can do that.”

  He rises from his chair with a squeeze of Cricket’s hand and follows Jackie out of the room. Whitney pops out of her seat and paces while we wait.

  We don’t have to wait long. Hunter returns less than ten minutes later, his face grim.

  “What did she say?” Cricket asks.

  “She wrote a will.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Whitney whispers.

  Hunter faces Cricket, but we all listen to what he says next. “If anything happens to her, she made me promise that you and I would raise the girls and your mom could see them anytime she wanted, but that I wouldn’t let them around my mom until she . . .”

  “Until she what?” Cricket asks.

  “Until she learns how not to be a total bitch because the girls shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

  “Oh my God.” Tears trickle even faster down Cricket’s face.

  Whitney pauses in the middle of the room, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. I go to her, pull her against me, and hold her.

  We all stand in the room for several long minutes of silence, until I finally hear the sound of footsteps and voices in the hallway.

  It’s time.

  Whitney turns toward the door, and together we watch as Karma is rolled down the hall in her hospital bed.

  “Stop!” Cricket breaks free from Hunter’s hold and rushes to the door.

  Karma’s face, paler than I’ve ever seen it before, tilts toward her sister’s voice.

  “I have something to say to you.”

  Jackie grabs Cricket’s arm as she hits the threshold. “Baby, not now. She doesn’t want—”

  “I don’t care what Karma wants right now, because if there’s even a single chance this is the last time I get to talk to my sister, I’m not going to let her take it from me.”

  “What do you want?” Karma asks. “To scream at me and curse me for ruining your life? I think I picked up the cursed part just fine.”

  “No,” Cricket says quietly. “I wanted to tell you that I love you and I forgive you, and no matter what happens, you’ll always be my sister.”

  Karma’s face twists, and tears shimmer in her eyes. She reaches up with her right hand and dashes them away. “If I don’t . . . If this . . .” She starts to speak, but when she can’t finish a thought, Cricket speaks up.

  “I love Maddy and Addy more than life itself. I didn’t care who their dad was before, and I don’t care now. They’re my nieces, no matter what.” She reaches out and touches Karma’s arm. “Just like you’ll always be my sister, no matter what. I love you all so much.”

  Karma wipes away another tear and gives Cricket a nod. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

  Two hours into the surgery, Asa finally talks Jackie into going to the cafeteria for something to eat before the woman tips over from exhaustion. Whitney is asleep on my shoulder when I get a call from my sister.

  “I know you’re busy right now, but we have a problem. A big problem.”

  “The media?”

  “No. Worse. There’s a wildfire. It’s moving fast, even with the rain we had a few days ago. Everything’s so dry from the entire summer that it’s going up like kindling.”

  Fuck.

  Fire is one word you never want to hear when you live in the forest on a mountain, and not only because we’re in the timber business. They’re not a rare occurrence, given the drought conditions that have plagued the area for years, and the higher frequency is just one more reason I’ve pushed to diversify the company even more.

  “Where is it heading? Do they know how many acres?”

  “It’s coming down the mountain, and they’re already calling for evacuations of homes and businesses in the impacted area. We’re right in its path, Lincoln.”


  Fuck. “The hotel?”

  “Your house, the estate, the hotel. They’re all next on the list for evacuation if it gets any worse.”

  Whitney wakes up as I shift, and her bleary eyes focus on me as my voice roughens.

  “We can rebuild, just get everyone out as soon as they make the call. Even before, if you feel like it’s the right move.” Another thought occurs to me. “What about Commodore’s cabin?”

  “Commodore’s at the estate. I told him about the warning—”

  “But what about Magnus Gable? Is he out of his house? Did they get him somewhere safe?”

  My sister goes quiet, and Whitney’s gaze locks on my face.

  “What’s going on?” she asks, but my sister replies.

  “I don’t know . . . no one said anything about him.”

  “We have to get him out. Now. If we’re next on the list to evacuate, he already should have.”

  “The road up the mountain is closed. They’ve locked it down. No one can get up there.”

  “Then it’s lucky I have a chopper out front. I’ll call you when I land at the estate and get Commodore somewhere safe. If you need any help with the hotel—”

  All the color drains from Whitney’s face as she realizes what we’re talking about.

  “We’ve got it covered,” McKinley says. “This is what we train for.”

  “Stay safe, Mac.”

  “You too, big brother.”

  The fact that McKinley doesn’t tell me not to call her that, like she always does, drives home just how serious this threat is.

  As soon as I hang up the phone, Whitney’s questions come rapid-fire.

  “What the hell is going on? There’s a fire? Magnus might be stuck up the mountain?”

  “Oh my God,” Cricket says from across the room, as the image on the TV changes to show nothing but flames. The headline at the bottom reads:

  * * *

  Mountain Town of Gable Threatened by Blaze

  * * *

  Whitney turns toward it and then slowly looks back at me. “I’m going with you.”

  43

  Whitney

  Aunt Jackie, Cricket, and Hunter promised they would send updates as soon as they heard anything, but my brain puts that aside as we fly toward the inferno that used to be a forest-covered mountain.

  Lincoln and I are both quiet, but his hand grips mine tighter as we fly into hell. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am—this is bad. Really fucking bad.

  Magnus and Commodore’s houses are still a few miles ahead, and right on the border of the forest the fast-moving fire has already devoured.

  “We have to get him out!” I yell it into my headset and Lincoln nods.

  “We will. Don’t worry.”

  My heart lodges in my throat as I see the outlines of the two cabins on the edge of the cliff. Thankfully, they’re not yet engulfed in flames, but thick smoke and flying ash make it almost impossible to see the wooden siding. Siding that will go up faster than newspaper.

  As soon as the chopper touches down, I rip off my harness and climb out. My feet hit the ground and I take off in a dead run, yelling my great-uncle’s name.

  “Magnus!”

  “Whitney!” Lincoln runs after me, but I don’t stop.

  When I reach the door, the familiar sight of a long barrel greets me as it pokes through the window, where he’s cut a hole in the screen.

  “I’ll shoot you! Looters are only getting bullets here!”

  “It’s me, Whitney! We have to get you out of here, Magnus!”

  Magnus lowers the rifle, and a moment later, the door opens. “What the hell are you doing here, girl? Didn’t you see there’s a fire coming in quick?”

  “What the hell are you still doing here?” I ask him.

  “Just about to make my way down to the river to float out.”

  Of course. Leave it to Magnus to have an escape route planned.

  “We’ve got a helicopter. It’ll be quicker.”

  “You don’t say?” He looks out the window, and the whap-whap of the rotors is drowned out by the crack of trees falling in the woods and the thundering wind.

  “Let’s go!”

  I grab the bag off the floor that I assume Magnus wants to bring. As I turn, Lincoln’s there, taking it from my hand.

  “Anything else, sir? Because we have to go. Now.”

  “Then move your ass, boy. I don’t want to be burned to a crisp.”

  With that, we all hurry to the helicopter and climb in. As soon as we’re buckled in, the bird lifts off the ground.

  Magnus settles his headset over his ears and asks, “Where the hell are we going?”

  “The estate.”

  “Oh, good. I miss that damn dog.”

  Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, I’m distracted by the flames and heat barreling down the mountain like a runaway train.

  This is bad. Really bad.

  Magnus points to the sky, darkened by thick clouds of smoke and flying ash. “Gonna storm in a few hours. Hopefully, there’s still something left to be saved by the time it starts.”

  44

  Lincoln

  “Aren’t we stopping at your house?” Whitney asks as we fly toward the estate.

  “Why?”

  “Your stuff!”

  I reach out and squeeze her hand. “It’s wood, glass, and rock. The only thing that truly matters is right here by my side.”

  “Ain’t that sweet.” Magnus’s voice comes over the headset, reminding me that the old man can hear everything we say.

  “Hopefully, it doesn’t get this far,” Whitney says, and I know we’re all hoping the same thing. But I was telling the truth. As long as I have her, everything else can be replaced.

  When we reach the estate, instead of seeing the driveway full of cars lined up and the staff scurrying around, loading them with valuables and antiques, there’s no movement.

  “What the hell?”

  The chopper lands on the helipad, and I’m on the ground as quickly as Whitney was at Magnus’s place.

  “Stay here,” I yell to them as I run toward the house and the rotors begin to slow.

  When I open the front door, I expect complete chaos inside, but instead there’s . . . eerie silence. Until I hear Commodore’s voice boom from the library.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “That can be arranged, old man.”

  The second voice is unmistakable. My brother.

  What the hell is going on?

  I creep toward the door to the library, and with every step, foreboding curls around my spine.

  “Sign it, or I’ll make sure this house burns down around you. Did you know they say burning alive is the worst pain a human can suffer?”

  What the fuck?

  I reach the door, and a peek inside reveals Harrison standing over Commodore, a pistol trained on my grandfather and a stack of documents in front of him.

  “You shot my fucking dog. You really think I’m going to sign a goddamn thing? If you had a brain in your head, you’d already realize I have exactly one answer for you. Go fuck yourself, boy.”

  “Shut your fucking mouth, old man. I’ve had enough of your lectures. Fucking years of them. I was never good enough. Smart enough. Fast enough. Nothing was ever fucking enough for you! Now, pick up the fucking pen and sign your goddamn name on that line, or I swear to Christ I’ll make sure you die as painfully as you deserve.”

  Commodore leans back in his chair and crosses his good arm over his sling. “If you’d shown even a fraction of this much conviction or devotion to something that mattered, we probably wouldn’t be in this position.”

  “I told you to shut the fuck up and sign it!”

  Harrison’s face contorts with rage, mottled and red. His hair sticks up in different directions like he’s run his hands through it over and over, probably as he cursed our grandfather—while holding a gun on him.

  And I’m empty-handed.


  “No way in hell. I’d rather burn. And even if I did, no one would believe I’d leave you everything. They all know me—and you—better than that.”

  Harrison’s arm straightens and he lowers the gun. But instead of putting it down, a shot cracks and Commodore yelps in pain, clutching his leg with his good hand.

  “You motherfucking, piss-ant piece of shit! You shot me!”

  My grandfather sags forward in his power chair, and more than anything right now, I wish I had a gun.

  My brother shot my grandfather and his dog.

  “You should’ve listened to me. You shouldn’t have been such a bastard to my mother. You know what? She’d be clapping right now and cheering me on. She hated you too. And not to have a funeral for her? What kind of dick move is that? She deserved better, you asshole. She deserved the best. You insulted her in life and in death, and now I’m going to take my revenge and hers.”

  My brother sounds like a demented movie villain, and I step away from the door, intent on getting to the study where the gun safe is located. But I step on a board that creaks, and both men’s heads whip in my direction.

  “Oh . . . this is too perfect. I don’t even have to come looking for you. I can take out two for the price of one.” The barrel of Harrison’s gun levels on me. “I’ve been waiting for you to come rushing in like the hero you think you are. I heard the fucking helicopter. Couldn’t miss your grand entrance. Why don’t you step right inside, big brother? After all, this affects you too. Not that it’s going to matter that you won’t be inheriting shit, because you’re going to die now too.”

  He drops his gaze to Commodore. “If you don’t sign that goddamn paper, I’m going to kill him right in front of you, and I hope you enjoy watching your golden boy bleed out next to your damn dog.”

  Commodore’s sharp brown gaze bores into me. “Run.”

  Harrison lashes out, pistol-whipping him in the temple. The old man’s head drops forward and his body goes limp.