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“Wasn’t losing.”

“You were.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

My phone rings and I groan.

“Don’t answer.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t.”

I pull it from my pocket. It’s Wyatt.

Dane answers with the phone on speaker. “What?”

“Hello to you too.”

“Bad day.”

“About to get worse.”

Dane’s expression changes. “What happened?”

Wyatt exhales. “Brody’s running his mouth again.” His face empties. Wyatt continues. “Brody’s claiming Dane said something outside the bar about getting away with killing a man once and being able to do it again.”

“That never happened. What does he want?”

Wyatt pauses. “Attention, probably. Revenge. But he’s talking about going to the sheriff. Says there’s another old case that needs another look.”

My stomach turns. “Can he do that?”

“Anybody can make a statement.” Dane’s expression doesn’t change. “Let him.”

“Dane,” I say.

“If Brody wants to lie to the police again, let him.”

Wyatt says something else, but I barely hear it.

Ten years ago, Brody told one lie and Dane lost eighteen months of his life.

Now Brody is trying again.

Dane ends the call. I step closer and take his hand. His fingers close around mine automatically.

“I want to fix this for you.”

“Don’t–”

“You don’t get to tell me I’m your responsibility and then pretend you’re not mine.”

Something moves across his face. “That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m me.” He grunts.