Reveling in Sin Read online

  Instead of Lincoln sweeping in to carry me off like a white knight, he stumbled through the doors wearing clothes that looked like he’d slept in them for a week. His jaw was covered with thick stubble, and his eyes were so bloodshot, I could see the redness from twenty-five feet away.

  “I object.” The words came out slurred, and there was no question he was completely hammered.

  For some reason, that fact hit me like a backhand to the face. My white knight, my love, my savior . . . showed up to interrupt my wedding drunk.

  Because I’m not the kind of girl who gets carried off into the sunset by a prince on a stallion. I’m a Gable.

  When Renee Rango stepped toward the aisle, I knew I had to react quickly before she pulled the pin on the truth grenade she was using to hold me hostage.

  I whirled around and marched down the aisle toward Lincoln. To fuel the authenticity of my anger, I focused on the fact that he showed up drunk.

  “You asshole. How dare you?”

  “You can’t marry him.” Lincoln could barely stand upright, and his words were one step above gibberish.

  In that moment, a memory burst into my head—my dad showing up wasted at my spring formal to drag my mom, who was acting as a chaperone, out of the gym because he thought she was flirting with one of my classmates. I grasped onto that memory with everything I had, even though Lincoln was nothing like my dad. I had to use it to make this seem genuine.

  I have no other choice. Every second Lincoln stood in this church was one moment closer to Renee Rango destroying his entire life.

  “I don’t know why you think you get to have an opinion, but get the hell out of here.”

  Lincoln stumbled forward another step. “I can buy and sell him.”

  Why did he have to go there? Why does everything always have to be about money?

  “I. Don’t. Care. Because you can’t buy me.”

  Before I could finish my sentence, Asa and Ricky rushed by me and shoved Lincoln out the front doors of the church.

  I never got to say my true thoughts.

  My love is free.

  3

  Lincoln

  Present day

  “Mother was pronounced dead at the hospital a half hour ago. Heart attack. They couldn’t resuscitate her. You fucking killed her. I hope you’re happy.”

  My brother’s caustic tone coming through the phone shreds my hope that I misheard him.

  This can’t be happening. She can’t be . . .

  “If this is some sick stunt you’re trying to pull—”

  “You’re the one who pulled the stunt, big brother, and this is what you got in return. Good job. Son of the fucking year. Don’t bother coming back from wherever you ran off to with your whore. Mom wouldn’t want you here anyway.” Harrison’s rage comes through loud and clear before he ends the call, and I’m left with nothing but silence.

  Whitney looks at me, all color drained from her face. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  I hold up a hand because I don’t want to hear her say what I know she’s going to say. That she shouldn’t have come with me. That I shouldn’t have picked her over my mother. That none of this ever should have happened.

  Disbelief and anger charge through my system with equal jolts of power. Part of me thinks this is some elaborate ploy by my mother and brother to lure me back and convince me to abandon Whitney, but the other part . . . the other part can’t believe I’ve just lost my only remaining parent.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and take two long deep breaths as shards of guilt, pain, and self-disgust dig deeper into me with each hammering beat of my heart.

  I did this. This is my fault. My choice pushed her over the edge.

  When I open my eyes, I look out at the ocean and focus on the deep blue of the waves lapping against the sea wall.

  But I find no comfort there. Blue House has been robbed of the peace it usually provides.

  “I’m so sorry, Lincoln. So damn sorry. I never should have—”

  Whitney starts again, but this time I wrap my arms around her and yank her against my body to cut off her words. I hold her tight, rocking us both back and forth as I let the news sink in.

  My mother is gone.

  My mother’s last wish was to keep Whitney and me apart, and she made her final stand in a way that no one could have predicted. We’ve always thought it was theatrics and manipulation. Her health was the card she played to keep us in line, but there was never a real threat to her life—or so we’d believed.

  I never thought . . .

  I draw in breath after breath, but this feels completely surreal. Like a joke Harrison is playing because he’s pissed at me. But even he wouldn’t lie about this.

  My mother is gone.

  I shake my head as I silently flay myself. I’m so sorry, Mother. Sorry I couldn’t be the son you needed. Sorry you didn’t get the life you wanted. Sorry that I couldn’t help you find a way to let go of the past and your bitterness.

  I pull back and look down at Whitney. “I can’t apologize for loving you. I won’t.” I blink twice as moisture gathers at the corners of my eyes.

  “But—”

  “You can use this as a reason to push me away, and I’ll understand, but the place I need you right now is at my side. Can you do that for me?”

  Whitney’s teeth drag across her lower lip and apprehension creases her expression. For a few long moments, I expect her to tell me she can’t do this. Can’t face what has just happened. But she continues to amaze me.

  “Whatever you need, Lincoln, I’m here.”

  I squeeze her tighter against me, letting my grief batter me. It’s more savage and unpredictable than the waves rolling in, and I know it will last for years, if not forever. My father’s death changed the course of my life and how I lived it. Only time will tell how my mother’s passing will change things.

  As much as I wish I could hide away from the world and pretend this didn’t happen, that’s not possible.

  I thread my fingers through Whitney’s and curl our hands into a solid fist. “We have to go back.”

  She nods. “I know.”

  “Then we go back together.”

  “Only if that’s what you want,” she says.

  What I really want is for the clock to turn back and to find some way to make my mother understand that my falling in love with Whitney Gable was a cause for celebration, not outrage. But that’s impossible, and now the only thing I can do is move forward and face the consequences.

  With my head buzzing and the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears, I lead Whitney back toward the chopper as I wave at the pilot before he can take off. He shuts down the rotors and removes his headset.

  “Sir?”

  “We need to go back to Gable. To the hospital. There’s been an emergency.”

  4

  Whitney

  When the chopper touches down on the helipad in front of the Riscoff Memorial Hospital, my stomach tumbles until I’m afraid I might be sick. How I’m feeling has nothing to do with the helicopter ride and everything to do with the fact that my actions led us here. If I hadn’t come back to Gable to begin with . . . if I’d said no to Lincoln . . .

  I have so many regrets, but what he said to me on the island keeps running through my head on repeat.

  “I can’t apologize for loving you.”

  No matter how insensitive it sounds, I can’t apologize for loving him either. I can’t deny pulling away from him was my first instinct, though. But what good would it do? Despite the guilt threatening to drown me, I know Lincoln is feeling everything even more acutely. If he’s not pushing me away because of what happened, how could I dare do it to him? I can’t.

  This is my chance to prove that I can stand at his side and show the world we’re stronger together. Our first test starts now.

  Lincoln releases my sweaty palm to climb out of the helicopter first. When he holds out his hand to help me exit, I take it
and hold tight.

  Barricades have been set up around the emergency room entrance, but they don’t stop the sound of the press yelling questions and the cameras from flashing.

  I pretend I’m blind and deaf, a trick I picked up years ago, and walk straight forward, one foot after another, never letting go of Lincoln’s hand. Apprehension wraps tighter around my chest with each step, but I don’t let it show.

  I remember how I felt the last time I approached this very door at his side. I was terrified that something horrible had happened, but part of me had refused to believe it was possible. This time, I already know that we’re walking into a terrible tragedy.

  The man I love just lost his mother because he chose me over her.

  She had a heart attack that killed her because of me. Or rather, her outrage over me.

  I still can’t quite grasp how someone could hate me so much, but it doesn’t matter what I can or can’t grasp. It happened, and now it’s time to face the consequences.

  As soon as we enter the hospital, the doors whoosh shut behind us and the lobby is empty but for a woman with two kids and a man whose hand is wrapped in a towel. At least, until Harrison steps out of the wide double doors that lead into the treatment rooms of the ER. His features contort with rage.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. Her body is still warm, and you’re bringing your whore into the hospital with you?”

  Commodore rolls out behind Harrison and smacks him in the chest. “Hold your tongue, boy. This isn’t the time or the place.” The old man looks at Lincoln. “You need to say your good-byes quickly. They need to . . . move her.”

  I loosen my grip on Lincoln’s hand so he can walk ahead of me, but Lincoln squeezes back tighter. Stronger together, I remind myself.

  “Thank you for waiting for me, sir.”

  Commodore inclines his head, and Lincoln walks us past Harrison.

  “I can’t believe he’s going to take her in there. Mother would—”

  “Enough,” Commodore snaps, and Harrison actually listens. “This family has lost too much. Today is for mourning. Tomorrow, you can have your anger. Then we all need to try to find some peace.”

  With my hand clasped firmly in Lincoln’s, I follow him into the room where his sister sits beside a sheet-covered body. McKinley lifts her tear-streaked face, and another swell of guilt hits me.

  Lincoln doesn’t release his hold on me until McKinley rises from her seat. She throws herself into her big brother’s arms.

  “She’s gone. Just like Father. She was fine . . . and then she was gone.”

  The anguished words hollow me out until my knees threaten to give way. I step back, intent on making myself as small as possible in the corner of the room. Regret pummels me as I watch them grieve the loss of their only remaining parent.

  “I’m so sorry, Mac. So sorry.”

  “I don’t know what happened. She was arguing with me, and she just seemed to lose it . . . Then she collapsed, but it wasn’t like the other times. I knew this was really bad.”

  Lincoln’s features pinch with pain, and I hate that I know what he’s thinking. She was arguing with McKinley about us.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, holding his sister close as she soaks his shirt with her tears.

  Last time I was in this hospital, I was the girl who had just become an orphan. Today, that girl is McKinley, and I wish I could spare her the grief that I’ve felt for the last decade. The edges may dull, but the pain never goes away. And the guilt. Lord, the guilt. I don’t know if that ever fades, because mine hasn’t.

  A noise comes from the hall, and we all look toward the doorway to see a man in a white coat peeking his head into the room. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’ll come back when you’re . . . finished.”

  McKinley releases Lincoln, swiping at her eyes. “We’re almost done. My brother just got here to say his good-byes. We won’t be long.”

  When the man disappears from the room, Lincoln’s attention shifts to the sheet.

  McKinley sniffles. “We want to donate her tissue and whatever else might be able to help someone, if possible, so they need to take her as soon as possible. We waited as long as we could for you.”

  Lincoln grimaces, and again, I know what he’s thinking. He would have been closer by if not for needing to run away with me.

  At least he didn’t miss his only chance to say good-bye to his mother. I never could have forgiven myself for that. Actually, the chance that I’ll be able to forgive myself for any of this is slim to none. No matter what Lincoln says, this will always be my fault. Loving him doesn’t change the fact that I’m cursed.

  Lincoln reaches for the sheet and stops. He glances over his shoulder at McKinley and me. “Could you both give me a minute? I . . . I’d like to be alone for a moment.”

  “Of course,” his sister says.

  I nod because I can’t get any words out of my constricted throat.

  When I walk toward the door, Lincoln reaches out to snag my hand, pulling me to a stop. “I’ll be right out. I’m sorry . . . I just need to . . .”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat. “It’s fine. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

  5

  Lincoln

  I lower myself into the seat McKinley vacated, and my shoulders roll forward. Tears I’ve been holding back sneak out of my eyes and drip down my cheeks, landing one by one on the white sheet.

  “I’m sorry, Mother. It doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I’ll never be able to tell you that again.”

  I lift my hand to raise the sheet, but my fingers shake. Once I see her face, it will all become real, and that’s not something I want to believe right now. But I don’t have a choice.

  When I pull back the sheet, I’m prepared for how different she looks, because I remember my dad. The tubes and leads they used to try to save her are still there.

  Part of me hoped her face would be placid and peaceful, but it’s lined with pain.

  I cover her again almost as quickly and bow my head.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the son you wanted. I’m sorry you felt cheated by life. I’m sorry I could never make you proud of me. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy. I’m just so fucking sorry, Mother.”

  The door opens, but I don’t look behind me as the power chair rolls inside. I expected him to come.

  “You didn’t do this to her, so don’t you dare blame yourself.” Commodore’s commanding tone can’t make his words the truth, however.

  I turn and look at him. My grandfather seems to have aged five years in mere days.

  “She made me choose, and I didn’t choose her. How could I not blame myself?”

  My grandfather shifts in his seat. “She didn’t have the right to make you choose. That was her last attempt at manipulating you. Besides,” he says as he pulls a newspaper from his seat and holds it out to me. “This is what sent her over the edge. Not you.”

  I take the paper and read the headline.

  * * *

  Billionaire’s Dead Son Outed as Bigamist

  * * *

  “Holy fuck,” I whisper.

  “Exactly. I need you to say your good-byes to your mother and forgive her for all the heartache she caused you in life and in death. Then you’re going to stand up and help me save what’s left of this family before Renee Rango destroys us all.”

  6

  Whitney

  “You did this,” Harrison says to me as Commodore disappears inside the room with Lincoln. “You killed her just as much as he did.”

  My gaze darts toward him, and McKinley stiffens next to me.

  Lincoln’s brother doesn’t need to lay on the guilt. I’m already feeling plenty. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him bully me.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you talking about?”

  He whips out a newspaper from beneath his arm and shoves it at me. As soon as I read the headline, my knees buckle.

/>   “Oh my God,” I whisper as the edges crumple in my fingers.

  I sacrificed ten years of my life to keep this secret . . . and it was all for nothing.

  My second thought hits just as hard. Roosevelt’s shoddy lawyer must not have filed their divorce papers . . . or was Renee lying about him divorcing her too?

  “You knew, didn’t you?” Harrison’s voice carries a vicious edge.

  “Stop it. Just leave her alone.” McKinley comes to my rescue and takes the paper from my hand, then tosses it back at her brother. “Ignore him. He’s looking for anyone to blame but the person actually responsible for all of it.”

  I curl my hands into fists and lean against the wall, wanting to scream and rage. But I don’t, because I know Harrison will use anything I say against me. Instead, I practice breathing slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth, to prevent myself from losing my shit.

  A few minutes later, the door to the room opens and Lincoln and his grandfather emerge. Lincoln moves to my side and slips his arm around my shoulders.

  “It’s time to circle the wagons,” Commodore announces. “Everyone is going back to the estate, and that’s where we’ll stay until we’ve dealt with this situation. If anyone has a problem with that—I don’t give a damn.”

  Lincoln’s hold tightens on me as my stomach drops.

  Stay at the Riscoff estate with Lincoln’s family? Based on the glare Harrison is shooting in my direction, that prospect sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.

  “I have to be at the resort,” McKinley says. “There’s no way I can—”

  “Did you not hear me, girl? This isn’t up for debate.”

  McKinley’s mouth snaps shut as Commodore barks at her.

  Every possible objection I could voice trembles on my tongue, but I hold them back. Better to acquiesce now so I can have this discussion alone with Lincoln later. He’ll understand that I can’t stay, because I need to track down Ricky’s mom and find out why the hell she’s doing this.