Guilty As Sin (Sin Trilogy#2)

I lower myself onto a marble bench, trying to process the bomb he just dropped on me.

“I wanted time to groom you before I died, and I didn’t know how long I would have,” he continues. “The legacy has to be protected, no matter what it takes. My great-great-grandfather didn’t trust his sons not to tear it apart to each take their own piece. So he adopted the English entailment mindset. The oldest son would get everything, and he would take care of everyone. But your father was only interested in taking care of himself. I couldn’t take the risk that he would drain the bank accounts, sell off the assets, and run away with one of his women.”

“Did he know that?”

Commodore looks off into the distance. “Yes. He knew. The day of the accident . . . we fought. I lost my temper. I told him he would get nothing from me.”

My elbows drop to my knees and I clasp my hands together. I lower my head to rest on my fist. “Jesus Christ. So that night . . .”

“He was leaving for good, and I knew it. I wasn’t going to stop him. But instead . . . I killed him.”

My stomach plummets as I look up at my grandfather. “You were there? The night of the accident?”

He shakes his head. “No. But I might as well have been. It was my decision that put his car on that bridge.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Why are you telling me this now?”

Commodore is quiet for several moments. “Because the sins of the past always come back to haunt us, and what you don’t know can hurt you. I shouldn’t have kept the paternity claim from you. That was a mistake, and now we have to do something about it.”

“What do you want to do?”

My grandfather leans back in his chair and threads the fingers of both his hands together. He taps his thumbs, and I suspect that whatever he says next is going to change everything.

“This morning, my private investigator found a marriage license between my son and Renee Rango dated two years before he married your mother.”

I stare at him in shock, barely able to grasp the implications of what he’s saying. “When was the divorce?”

He presses his lips together, and my gut sinks lower. No . . . he’s not going to say what I think he’s going to say . . .

“As far as we can tell . . . there wasn’t one.”





26





LINCOLN





The past

AS IMPATIENT AS I was to try to see Whitney again, I knew I needed to have all my facts together before I did.

For the last two days, I’d been on the phone with an investigator in LA who was compiling a report on Ricky Rango. Turned out, the motherfucker didn’t just cheat on her once, he’d cheated on her multiple times. As the investigator reported back with each instance, it made me sick to my stomach.

I looked down at the notes I’d taken on my yellow pad, at the list of names and dates and places, and the truth hit me.

I can’t tell Whitney this. Not a single fucking bit of it.



I shoved it away and sat back in my chair. I was in my office, because according to Commodore, life and business must both go on, no matter that we had a funeral tomorrow and my father was being buried.

The Gables were burying both of their parents on Saturday. It gutted me to think of Whitney at the grave site with Rango’s cheating ass standing beside her.

At least she had her brother, no matter how much I didn’t like the motherfucker. But if some guy was trying to come at McKinley under circumstances like this, I would do anything I could to keep him away. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep my little sister safe, especially from a guy I thought had fucked her over.

And I had fucked Whitney over in my own way. I threw her out in the middle of the night. Barefoot. Because I’m a stupid son of a bitch who couldn’t trust her.

Not even I could blame her if she didn’t forgive me. I deserved to lose her, but I wasn’t going to let it happen without a fight. Especially not to a piece of shit like Ricky Rango who deserved her even less. I glanced down at the lined yellow paper and all the instances of his cheating that had been documented.

I won’t let him keep me away from her. I won’t let him win.

I grabbed a new notepad and started writing Whitney a letter. Now I just had to figure out how to get it to her.





27





WHITNEY





Present day

“I KNEW I LIKED YOU,” McKinley says. “At first I thought you were the stoic, quiet type, but that was impressive.”

My cheeks heat with embarrassment that someone witnessed our encounter. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Put that bully of a woman in her place? Don’t apologize on my account. That was long overdue, in my opinion. I’ve been terrified that Lincoln would somehow fall into her trap and not realize what she is before she conned a ring out of him. Besides, I’m the one who should apologize. You shouldn’t have had to deal with her here. That’s unacceptable.”

“It’s okay. I survived. She might think she’s scary, but there’s nothing that woman could say to me that hasn’t already been said.”

“Still, we promised you a safe haven, and I didn’t live up to that promise. I’ll have her banned from the premises until further notice. She’ll probably go crying to Lincoln about it . . .”

“That’s really not necessary. She’s a pest. She can’t actually hurt me. I can easily avoid her in the future, now that I know to call down and check to see if she’s on the books.”

“How about I just tell the spa coordinators that when it comes to Maren Higgins, we have no appointments until otherwise instructed. They’re already well aware of her freeloader ways. A couple months ago, she started coming in and trading on Lincoln’s name to get free services, but I shut that down as quickly as possible.”

Her comment about freeloading unleashes a rush of the guilt I’ve been storing up. “I don’t want to be a freeloader either. This wasn’t my idea, and we can move rooms or leave anytime. This isn’t something I expected, and I truly don’t intend for us to stay long, despite what I said to Maren.”

McKinley waves me off. “Don’t spend a single second worrying about it. Besides, I just told you I like you. I don’t like many people, especially not the women who date my brother. And people I do like, I’m willing to do anything for. That’s just the way it is.”

“We’re not dating,” I say, trying to clarify something I don’t totally understand myself.

Her brows rise, skepticism stamped on her features. “Either way, I like you, and you’re welcome to stay. It’s a rough time for both our families, so it’s the least I can do.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” I say quietly. “I know yesterday was a hard day.”

“For all of us. I’m sorry about your parents too.” She pauses. “But whatever they did, it’s not on us, and I wouldn’t hold someone’s actions against their child.”

“Thank you.” It’s nice to feel like I have at least one supporter in the Riscoff family outside of Lincoln.

“Besides,” McKinley adds. “You probably don’t remember, but you stood up for me once when I was in middle school. Older boys were giving me a hard time, and you told them to leave me alone or your brother would beat them up. I never forgot that. Consider the rooms here my overdue thank-you, and truly, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”



I THANK Lincoln’s sister again before locating my locker, and change out of my robe back into my street clothes.

Although this afternoon has been a little rocky, I feel pretty damn good overall. I refuse to let my run-in with Maren get me down. As far as I’m concerned, going forward, she doesn’t exist in my world. How’s that for some positivity?

When I make my way to the elevator bank, Karma and her girls are just entering one.

“Get in if you’re going up. Otherwise, catch your own.”