If anyone asks, just tell them I was blue. Tell them you dragged me to the wedding as a pick-me-up.

The reception hall was crowded, packed enough that Ash could keep his distance from the groomsmen, wincing over the cheap champagne on offer while he planned his attack.

They were in a little clump, all five of them, the losers that had plagued Ash since high school. Laughing, hugging. Hugging was the lowest form of human contact as far as Ash was concerned.

Damn, you’re bitter, he said to himself.

Why shouldn’t he be? His life, his property, was being snatched from him, and he had to stand here and wait. Had to let Lucas peel off from the group. It would do no good confronting him with all his friends surrounding him.

The last time you confronted him, things didn’t go well.

Oh shut up, brain.

“Would you stop glowering?” said Evan. “You look like you’re about to announce you’ve poisoned the wedding cake.”

“Do they always clump together like that?” Ash asked him.

“Who? What?”

“Your boyfriend and his pals over there.”

“You are not obsessing over them.”

Ash wouldn’t look Evan in the eye. “I’m not obsessing over anything, cousin.”

“Because if I find out you made me bring you to a wedding for nefarious purposes…”

Another swallow of terrible champagne. This wasn’t the right place to explain what Lucas had done. Evan saw the best in everybody, especially now that he was engaged to Simon. It would take a lot of work to ease him into the idea. Right now, Ash just needed to get Lucas alone.

Karl and his new husband were cutting the cake. Polite applause filled the air. Ash found himself lightly clapping as well; an instinct, this politeness. His face was a mask of icy expressionlessness.

At least he hoped it was.

On the other hand, the open happiness on everyone else’s faces was hard to bear.

Maybe if you had friends, you could be that happy. Maybe if your best friend wasn’t your job—

Stop.

Maybe if you weren’t trying to live up to your criminal dad’s example—

STOP.

Look at them. Look at Lucas. His hair lightened from all his time in the sun. His ease within his tuxedo. That was what separated him from his friends. Ash had never thought about it before, but it was clear, watching Lucas compared to the others. Some men—the ones born to money, the ones used to occasions and formality—wore suits like a second skin, no matter how much they would rather be in their casual clothes. Compare that to the rumpled look of…what was the other one’s name, Rex?

The boy who drowned.

That wasn’t Ash’s fault.

He shook his head. This was not time to dwell on the past. The target was in sight, hands occupied by a plate with a slice of cake, a flute of champagne.

“I’m going to celebrate with my boyfriend,” said Evan, moving from Ash’s side. “You just stand there looking all agitated and gothic.”

Ash blinked. He’d forgotten Evan was still there.

Maybe you really are obsessed.

One quick cure for that: Solve the problem. Evan was approaching the circle of friends, putting his arm around Simon, accepting a piece of cake. He said something to Karl, and the friends broke into laughter.

All but Lucas. Lucas wasn’t laughing.

He looked over in Ash’s direction. Casual. No alarm. The way you might look over at a dog behind a fence. You wouldn't get close enough to get bitten, you just wanted some situational awareness.

Simon and Evan had left the circle, and now Burns was pulling Karl towards another group of people.

Lucas drained his drink, reached for another and drained that too. Now his eyes were steady on Ash.

Now or never. You can’t hide from it.

Ash emptied his own champagne and set the plastic flute on the table. He approached Lucas.

Oh, Lucas knew. There was no surprise on his face. He knew exactly why Ash was coming, and he was ready. This could be bad, thought Ash. Maybe I should leave this for the lawyers.

Yeah. Let someone else handle your problems. Not going to happen. Stopping Lucas was the only way to keep his father in prison, where he belonged.

The two remaining friends saw him. Pete. Rex. They stiffened at his approach. Did they draw closer to Lucas?

I’m just here to talk, not to throw punches.

Unless it came to that.

“Phelps,” he said.

Lucas nodded at him. “Cray. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t you? You didn’t think I’d find you?”

Rex moved in closer. “Guys, this is a wedding.”

“What’s a wedding without a fistfight?” asked Pete. “Grab your popcorn, Rex, this is the first time Lucas and Ash have been in the same room in…what, seven years?”

Seven years? Oh, it has been more recent than that.

“I’d like to speak to you,” Ash said to Lucas. He glanced at the other two. “Alone.”

“Why Lucas,” said Pete, his eyelashes fluttering, “you didn’t tell me that Ash had a thing for you.”

Rex snickered, and Ash felt his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and anger.

“You haven’t changed,” said Ash. “Still haven’t grown up. Some of us are trying to lead adult lives.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” said Lucas. “Because it looks vindictive and nasty, from where I’m standing.”

“You haven’t seen vindictive and nasty yet,” said Ash.

Lucas took a step closer. Now they were inches apart. He could feel the body heat off of Lucas. Could breathe the scent of Lucas—a rich, forest scent, something he recognized from deep in the woods. Something he recognized from memory.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing here,” said Lucas. “Rubbing my nose in it? But you’re not welcome here. I’ll deal with you later.”

Then he turned to go.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me,” said Ash.

Lucas stopped. He paused for a moment. Rex and Pete cast worried looks in his direction.

Then he spun around, and shoved his index finger into Ash’s chest. “What the fuck are you doing here, Cray? It’s not enough that you’re trying to steal what’s mine—you’re as bad as your big daddy thief, aren’t you? No, that wasn’t enough for you. You had to show up to what should be a happy day for me and my friends, so you can fucking gloat.”

Ash pushed him away. “You’re fucking drunk. I’m not here to gloat. I’m here to warn you, this shit you’re pulling, I know exactly what you’re up to. You waited until my family was at its weakest, and then you fucking pounced. This is a happy day for you? You better enjoy it, because it is the last good day you will ever have. I will be on you, Lucas Phelps, and I will not stop until you are destroyed.”

A moment of silence…until Pete snickered. “Did you just say destroyed? Rex, did he say destroyed?”

“It’s the most melodramatic threat I’ve ever heard,” said Rex.

“Guys, not now,” growled Lucas, his eyes fixed on Ash.

Ash’s fists were hard, skin tight and pale over his knuckles. He was ready to fight. The humiliation on top of everything else, it was driving him towards violence, but he had to restrain himself, he had to calm down. Throwing punches here wouldn’t solve anything. Satisfying as it might be, this was a battle that would have to be fought on paper, with forms and offices.

Maybe one punch. Just one, right in his smug face.

“We’ve got the rocks,” said Rex.

“See, I told you they would come in handy,” said Pete. “You’d think Ash would’ve learned his lesson by now, not to mess with us.”

“Mess with you?” said Ash. “You’re nothing. You’re irrelevant. Lucas knows what I’m here for.”

“Yeah,” said Lucas. “I do. First you try to steal my land, then you come to gloat about it.”

“Exactly. And when I— Wait. What?”

Maybe he’d had too much to drink already. Maybe it was making him mishear things.

By now, others had seen the tension between them. Evan and Simon had come back up, as had Karl and his new husband.

Ash felt cornered and alone.

“You heard me,” said Lucas. “What did you think you’d accomplish, coming here? Everybody knows you’re trying to buy the land out from under us, always grasping, grabbing, trying to get more—”

“You are insane. You are certifiably, one hundred percent out of your mind, Lucas Phelps. What the hell is wrong with you? I came to tell you that you’re not getting away with trying to buy Cray land—”

“Why the fuck would I want to buy a bunch of rocky, mined-out wasteland?”

“Because,” explained Ash, suddenly feeling less and less sure of himself, “you know my dad needs money for his case, and…”

Somehow the confusion was worse than the anger. Lucas clearly felt it too.

“Someone’s trying to buy your land?” asked Evan.

“Yes,” said Ash.

“Yes,” said Lucas.

“Well, I was talking to…” Evan paused.

They all stood there looking at one another.

Simon said, “All right, I’ll be the first to ask. Who is buying what? Lucas?”

“Not me,” said Lucas. “Ash is trying to… I mean, Ash, aren’t you trying to…?”

Ash shook his head. “Holy shit. Are you sure? Because if you’re fucking with me, Phelps—”

Lucas shook his head. “Oh, fuck.”

Pete looked from Ash, to Lucas, and back again. “Well, boys, looks like we won’t need that bag of rocks after all.”

“We’ve got a mystery on our hands,” said Rex.

“I’ll go get my magnifying glass and fingerprint kit,” said Pete.

“Would you guys stop?” Lucas said. “You’re making my head hurt.”

“It’s probably the cheap champagne,” said Ash. “It tastes like antifreeze.”

Karl stiffened. “We can’t all be bourgeois wine snobs.”

Evan parted from Simon again, and put his hand on Ash’s shoulder. “Buddy, I think I need to drive you home.”

Ash shook his head as though he didn’t understand, and the fact was, his thoughts were so clouded and confused at the moment that maybe he didn’t understand.

But at least Lucas didn’t either. Standing there, towering over his friends, a puzzled look on his face.

Ash realized Lucas had missed a little spot while shaving. Just a tiny one, at the corner of his jaw. The smallest bit of stubble. The spot he always used to miss.

“We need to talk about this,” he said to Lucas.

“I’ll call you,” said Lucas.

“How sweet,” said Pete. “Sounds like a date.”

“Shut up, Pete!” said seven voices in unison.