18
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Knowing she couldn’t put it off indefinitely, Reagan made a pit stop on her way home. Dropping by to check in with her mother was not something she had looked forward to, even if deep down she wished it could be different between them. She couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t tension between her and her mother. Even as a teenager — especially as a teenager — she’d butted heads with her more often than not.
Then, when Reagan had started dating Billy, her mother hadn’t been impressed. However, she’d learned to deal with it as time went by, until one day, her mother started backing Billy more than her. Reagan wasn’t sure how that had happened, or why. And she damn sure wasn’t going to think about it now.
“Whose truck is that?” her grandfather bellowed through the open window when Reagan stepped onto the front porch.
Reagan sighed, opening the screen door and moving into the dimly lit living room. Her grandfather was sitting in his usual spot, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.
“A friend’s,” she told him.
“What friend?”
Telling him the truth would likely only make things worse, but Reagan didn’t want to get caught up in a lie. So, she took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.
Before she could get the words out, her mother came storming out of the kitchen, her eyes wide.
“Reagan Marie,” she said in a huff. “Why didn’t you come by last night?”
She didn’t have time to answer before her mother threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly.
“I was so worried.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Reagan assured her.
“But your bar blew up. With you in it.” Her mother sounded hysterical.
“I know. But no one was hurt.” Not really anyway.
“Where’d you go last night?” her grandfather asked.
Once again, Reagan found herself tight-lipped.
“Whose truck is that?” her mother asked, peering over Reagan’s shoulder through the screen door.
“Lynx Caine’s,” she blurted, preparing for the worst.
“Why are you drivin’ his truck?”
“Mine was damaged in the fire.”
“Christ Almighty,” her mother said dramatically.
“I hope you’re not mixin’ it up with that Caine boy,” Vic insisted. “He’s bad news.”
“Where’s Billy?” her mother asked, talking over her grandfather. “What does he think about this?”
“About what?” Reagan frowned, trying to read between the lines.
“About you drivin’ that boy’s truck.”
“Mom, Billy and I broke up.”
She waved Reagan off. “That won’t last forever and you know it.”
Arguing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so Reagan opted to take the high road. “I just wanted to stop by, check in. I’m good, I promise.”
“You ain’t good if you’re drivin’ that truck,” Vic said, his eyes focused on her. “That boy’s bad news,” he repeated.
“He’s not bad news,” she insisted. “He’s a friend and he’s loanin’ me his truck until I can get mine fixed.”
“Shoulda known you’d go messin’ up a good thing,” her mother grumbled.
The words, no matter how often her mother said them, still shocked Reagan every time. She knew Billy played a big part in it. He fed her mother lies until Reagan looked like the bad guy every time.
And this was the very reason Reagan stayed away. She hated arguing with her mother, but it seemed inevitable these days.
“It’s no wonder Billy had to stray,” her mother continued. “If you’re spendin’ time with other men…”
“Mother!” Reagan took a deep breath. “Billy was steppin’ out on me. Not the other way around. He was the one out screwin’ other women while I was sittin’ at home wonderin’ where he was.”
“You don’t know that,” she insisted.
“I do know that! He told me.”
“He was just upset.”
The way she said that had Reagan stiffening. Her voice lowered when she pinned her mother with a glare. “Did you talk to Billy?”
“He came by the other night. Wanted to apologize for all that was goin’ on. Said he was gonna work extra-hard to get you back. Said it was all a misunderstandin’.”
“Like hell,” Reagan hissed.
Her mother waved her hand toward Lynx’s truck. “I can’t help but think that maybe you’re the one who’s been givin’ him mixed signals, Reagan.”
Pointless.
The whole fucking thing was pointless.
And with everything going on, Reagan knew she wasn’t going to hold it together for much longer. So, in an effort to save some of her sanity, she spun on her boot heel and marched right back out the door.
“Reagan Marie Trevino! Don’t you walk out that door!”
Too late.
“You need to go talk to Billy!” she yelled.
“Fucking hell,” Reagan murmured as she yanked open the truck door and practically launched herself inside.
Next time she considered coming by to check in, she really needed to have someone give her a brain scan. Because if she ever thought it was a good idea, clearly she wasn’t functioning on all cylinders.
Lynx had fully intended to head home but found himself back at Wolfe’s after he picked up his father’s truck. Everyone had hung around until a few minutes ago, even Travis, Gage, and the lawyer woman. Rhys had finally had to suggest they give Amy a break, but when Lynx went to leave, Wolfe had stopped him.
“I still don’t see how this is goin’ to shake out,” Wolfe said, taking a long pull on his beer as he leaned against the front porch railing.
“Me, either,” Lynx agreed. He propped his feet up on the wood and leaned back in the chair they’d dragged from the kitchen table.
“The fuckin’ mob, bro,” Wolfe said with a whistle.
“Didn’t even know they existed,” Lynx told his cousin.
Apparently, living in a small town meant being in the dark about some shit.
The screen door creaked open and Rhys stepped outside.
“You think this plan’s gonna work?”
Rhys shrugged, obviously not needing to be brought into the loop.
“Depends on whether or not this guy’s interested in bringin’ them down.”
“But if I didn’t know about them and I live here, how do they think word’s gonna get out? I mean, yeah” — Lynx pointed his beer bottle at Rhys — “people are gonna talk. But it’s not like the grapevine’s got a hotline to Houston.”
That earned him another shrug from Rhys. “I just want him stopped. I don’t fuckin’ care how they do it.”
Now, that surprised Lynx.
Although he was the sheriff, Rhys Trevino was a good guy. And the town really was lucky to have him. He was fair and just, which worked in everyone’s favor. But Lynx knew this had to be wearing on him. The woman he loved was in danger. No way could any sane man sit back and wait for something to happen.
“Personally, I’m not worried about what information makes it through the grapevine,” Wolfe said. “I want this bastard stopped. Goin’ after him ourselves would be the right way.”
Rhys’s eyes cut to Wolfe.
Wolfe held up his hands in surrender. “Not sayin’ I’m gonna do anything.”
Lynx shook his head and took another sip of his beer. “I just don’t get it. I know Travis wants to help out, but this seems a little extreme.”
“Ever think that maybe there’s another plan?” Rhys suggested.
Lynx and Wolfe both locked their eyes on the sheriff.
“Such as…?” Wolfe asked.
“I don’t know,” Rhys said, his frustration evident. “I just get the feelin’ that Max Adorite is gonna play a role in this.”
“Which means…?” Lynx probed.
Rhys huffed. “Fuck if I know. I just get the feelin’ that this is some sort of distraction.”
Lynx glanced at his cousin. He didn’t know the first thing about the mafia, but he’d seen enough movies to get the gist of it. Perhaps Max Adorite was going to take out the police chief.
And wouldn’t that make everything fucking easier?
“I can tell ya,” Lynx said, tilting his head toward Rhys, “if the mafia boss wants to take out the crazy bastard, more power to him.”
That, obviously, wasn’t what Rhys wanted to hear.