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“Stay here. I mean it, Mollie.”

She looks at me, swallowing. Then she nods. “Holler if you need me.”

I leave the truck running and hop out the door, stalking across the grass.

“I swear to God, John, it’s not what you think,” Wyatt says.

John B leans his cheek against the rifle. “You’re lying, Wyatt.”

“Dad, please, stop. This is ridiculous. Put the gun down.” Sally’s words are thick with emotion. “He’s right?—”

“What’s going on here?” I ask.

Without looking away from Wyatt, John B replies, “This son of a bitch did my daughter dirty—that’s what.”

I stare at my brother. “Wyatt?—”

“I can explain.” His voice has a desperate edge to it.

Shit. That tells me all I need to know.

Shit, shit,shit.