Free ABANDON ALL HOPE: The Hope Brother Series (Book Two) by Honey Palomino

that never was.  
    “What’s wrong with you?” George asked, her eyes squinting suspiciously at me.  “You were just brimming with joy about Lincoln, and now you look like you just lost your best friend.”
    I almost did it, right then and there. I almost told George that I had been sleeping with her brother for over a year, that I was madly in love with him, that all I could do was think about him.  But then, I thought, what’s the point of telling her now, now that it was over?
    I shook my head, smiled, and lied.  Just like I always did.   Just like I always would.
    “Sorry, Georgie, but you’re my best friend, and I don’t ever intend on losing you!” 

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     I paced up and down the barn aisles like a bull for the rest of the day, ignoring my chores.  Luckily, the horses were out to pasture, or they sure as hell would have picked up on my rage and freaked out in their stalls.
    I had no idea what the hell I was going to do.  I had tried in vain all day to come up with some idea, some solution, some way to convince this fella to give me the deed to my farm back.  It irked my hide to be in this position.
    I felt like a failure, and I hadn’t even done anything to get in this situation.  I couldn’t blame my parents, though.  They had done what was right for them at the time.  They never intended to leave me with this burden.  Hell, they never intended to leave us at all.  
    They didn’t even have life insurance when they died, leaving us to figure it all out on our own.  I was still trying to forgive them for that oversight.
    I sure wished I could go to my Pa for advice, though.
    My siblings would have to do.  I had debated whether to tell them what was going on or not, but in the end, I knew it wouldn’t be fair to keep them in the dark.
    It was their farm, too.
    By the time I got all the horses in and fed, the sun was setting in the horizon.  I looked over the perfect rows of crops, the land I had worked with my own two hands, pouring sweat and blood every day, doing my damnedest to keep the legacy that my parents had built alive.  The thought of losing it all wrecked me. Where would we all go?  What the hell would we all do without this place?
    No, leaving wasn’t an option.
    I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of whiskey and downed it and then another.  Maybe if I could fucking relax a little, I could come up with some solution to all of this bullshit.
    George came in the door fifteen minutes past eight, and Jesse and Seth came in from practice five minutes after that.  By the time they arrived, I was pissed and buzzed from the whiskey.
    “It’s about fucking time!” I yelled at them. 
    “What the hell, we’re barely late, Crit,” George said, sniffing the air and eyeing the almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the kitchen counter.  “Are you drunk?”
    “No, I’m not fucking drunk, I just had a few drinks,” I growled.
    “Whatever.  What’s so fucking important anyway?” she replied.
    “Y’all need to sit down,” I said.  After they had arranged themselves around Ma’s antique dining table, they looked over at me for an explanation.  The last thing I wanted to do was tell them the bad news.  This farm was the only stability any of us had, and I was about to take that away from the people I loved the most.
    “I got a call from Barnard Johnson the other day,” I began.  “Old man LaCroix died.”
    “I heard that,” Seth said.  “I guess it’s been a long time coming,” he said, echoing the words of my newly acquired enemy, Lincoln LaCroix.
    “Yeah, I guess, but that’s not the issue,” I replied.
    “Well, are you just going to keep us guessing or what?”  George asked, her voice full of frustration.
    “You know what, George?  This farm is part yours, and I know you’re all cozied up and married to the Haggards now, but it’d do you good to remember where you came from,” I snapped.
    “That’s a load of