by Stasia Black
Calla blinked. What was he going on about? “So?”
Liam stared at her like he was waiting for some big reaction. “I’m a billionaire. Back in Ireland, me da owns Prism Media group. They’re the conglomerate that bought out half the European and Australian news companies and even one of the bigger American news corporations.”
Calla gave a tiny shake of her head. Where was he going with all this? “I know,” she said. “So?”
Liam frowned and pulled back a little. “What do you mean, you know?”
“Uh,” she shook her head, “yeah. You’re Liam O’Neill. Son of actress Ailis Duncan. Well, she became Ailis O’Neill, after she married your dad. But yeah. I know who you are.”
Liam jerked to his feet, staring down at Calla like she’d suddenly sprouted horns.
“What?” she asked, standing up and reaching for him, but he jerked his hand back.
“How do you know?”
She threw her hands in the air and shrugged. “I don’t know. They showed that movie, Irish Spring, the one that won all those awards, in the world cinema class I took in college. It was my favorite elective.”
Liam took another step back from her and raked a hand through his hair.
Calla didn’t know why he was so freaked out, but she kept going. “When I saw you at the bar last year, I thought you looked familiar. The more I thought about it, I finally realized who you reminded me of. Your mom. You look so much like her. When I googled her, I saw a picture of you two. You must have been a teenager when it was taken.” She smiled and lifted a hand toward him. “You had the most adorable floppy hair—”
“Stop!” he yelled. Calla flinched and her eyes flew open as he wrenched away. “What? I—”
“You fucking knew who I was? This whole time?” He looked at her and it was like his eyes were pleading for her to say no. But she wasn’t going to lie about something so silly.
“Yeah. I’ve known the whole time.” She shook her head. “I didn’t realize—” She felt completely bewildered. “Is it some big secret?”
“Yes,” he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’ve known,” he whispered, more like he was talking to himself than to her. “You’ve known all along.”
“That first time we had sex in the shower, you knew.” His eyes flashed and he shoved an accusatory finger in her face. “You lied,” he said. “You couldn’t believe what had just happened because, and I quote, you’re you. I asked you what you meant and you made up some bullshit about liking me laugh.”
Calla’s mouth dropped open. “It wasn’t your laugh. I said I like how you made other people laugh.”
“Bullshit,” he accused. “You saw me and thought, here’s me chance to cash in. Or at least get your fifteen minutes. Did you call the paparazzi in today?”
“I— Wha—” Each word cut off sharply and she finally threw her hands out in frustration. “I saw you and looked you up and thought: Huh, a celebrity. In Hawthorne. How cool. That was it. My entire thought process at the time.”
Liam shook his head. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
She sputtered but he continued, “You just happened to come work for Xavier when you went broke? Remembered how that billionaire you’d been stalking worked there and thought, huh, here’s me meal ticket!”
“How can you even—” She sputtered. “You were the one who approached me. I’d never even—”
“You know,” he cut her off, his face cruel, “let’s just fast-forward this little scene to the end. I’m sure as a fan of cinema, you’ll appreciate that. Come Sunday, I’m outta here.”
“Well good riddance!” Calla yelled back, her cheeks hot. “To you and Mack both.” It took everything she had not to put her hands to her stomach. God, she couldn’t imagine the things he’d accuse her of if she told him about the baby. She backed up out from underneath the stands.
“Anyone who doesn’t know me after sleeping with me for three months isn’t someone I could ever really care for.”
Liam scoffed. “As if you care for anything other than me bank balance.”
“You…” Calla reached down and grabbed a clod of dirt from the ground and hurled it his direction. He barely dodged it, but then he started clapping.
“Bravo. This really is the performance of the decade. Ma would be so proud. Too bad you’ll never get to rifle through her things. Or get anywhere near me billions.”
Calla’s entire body shook with rage. But then her shoulders slumped. She turned to walk away, not wanting Liam to see the power he had to hurt her. But no. Screw that. He thought he could just go around and carelessly shit on the people who lo—
She cut the thought off even as it formed. God, was it true? Did she love this selfish bastard?
The pain was almost enough to crack her in two.
“I let you in.” She hit her chest with her palm. “You and Mack. I let you both in. Like I never had anyone before. And then you both broke my h—” She stopped when she realized Liam wasn’t looking at her but had his face stubbornly set to the side.
“Goddamn you, Liam O’Neill.”
With that, she spun on her heel and strode back toward Painter. More determined than ever to win the prize money and be able to have control over her own future without ever depending on anyone else ever again.
Chapter 32
BETHANY
Bethany thought the little bitch would never leave her damn horse alone for a single minute. But then Liam came by and of course Cal chased off after him like a dog in heat.
Bethany shook her head.
It was time to show that little whore where she belonged once and for all. The Carters were trash and always would be.
Bethany had always hated Cal. There was just something about her. She was nothing but poor white trash but she acted like a snob, never hanging around with anyone else or making friends. Like she thought she was so much better than all of them.
But it wasn’t until Bethany had walked in on her Daddy with Calla’s whore of a mother in his study one day that she knew what hatred really was. Bethany had only been twelve at the time but she knew what it meant when a woman was sitting on a man’s lap with her arms around him.
Daddy had sworn he’d get rid of her. And he did. He even got her to leave town.
But there was still her spawn left.
Calla. The uppity little bitch who wouldn’t disappear no matter how Bethany tried to ignore her. Always trying to pretend she was equal to her betters.
Every time Bethany came in second place to Cal and her ugly mongrel horse, it was a thorn that dug deeper and deeper under her skin.
But then, finally, finally, natural order was restoring itself to the world.
Daddy bought out the Carter ranch, leaving Cal with almost nothing. She had to work as a ranch hand for God’s sake.
And Bethany’s plans to capture Liam O’Neill’s attention and secure her place as billionaire royalty had been this close to falling into place.
Until Cal fucking Carter had put her whore fucking nose where it didn’t belong and fucked everything up.
Bethany wasn’t runner up to Miss Natrona County Jr. two years in a row so she could lose the biggest prize of her life to the town fucking tomboy.
And Bethany knew if Cal hadn’t been distracting Liam with her little I’m-poor-and-helpless-and-oh-yeah-also-a-whore-who’ll-let-you-stick-it-anywhere act, he would have been able to see Bethany for the treasure she was.
Daddy always said no man would ever be good enough for his little princess and it was true. None of the grimy Wyoming farmers were. But Liam was a prince if she’d ever met one and they were meant to be together. She’d known it ever since she took a picture of him in the bar, googled his face, and found out he was worth approximately three-point-seven billion.
But then to be so roundly humiliated in front of him and all because of that tomboy he-she freak! Ugh! Bethany’s whole body went hot when she remembered Liam’s words to her at the feed store. No one
talked to her like that. Ever.
And all because, like, Cal had poisoned him against her.
Well Bethany was putting things right. There was an order to the world. And she was restoring it.
No Carter would ever get in her way again.
Bethany approached Cal’s horse. It neighed and shifted back and forth on its hooves, tail lifting.
“It’s all right,” Bethany said, voice gentle. She needed this stupid horse to stand still for what she was planning. When she stepped forward and grabbed the bridle, the mare’s eyes went wide. Bethany clicked her teeth and ordered her to stay, and the horse went still.
Which was, in itself, a little annoying, because fine, it was well trained. So what? Bethany’s mustang would have been superior, hands down. But she couldn’t compete, could she? Because they’d given her a lame horse.
The stupid thing had week joints and went lame right after the trail trials. She’d only been training it in basic reining and cutting skills. And sure, she was pushing a little—but none of her purebred horses would have batted an eye at the exercises.
She gave it two whole weeks off training to rest its strained joints. But after just an hour of getting back out in the training paddock, it was limping again.
So now here she was at a horse competition with no horse. Daddy had even called the BLM and tried to make a generous donation if only they’d give her another horse but they said it was too far into the competition for that.
That was the final straw. Like, you could only push a woman so far.
So she’d called and called for weeks until she finally got through all the stupid secretaries and whatever until she could finally talk to Liam’s dad and tell him where his son was. There wasn’t a reward or anything, but she figured there was the smallest chance Liam would be so grateful for reuniting him with his father, he’d give her another chance. And if not, well, at least that bitch Cal wouldn’t get him.
She wasn’t about to let her win this competition either.
She ran her hand down the flank of Cal’s horse’s.
“Just stand still, stupid horse,” she whispered in a soothing voice. She glanced around, didn’t see anyone, and pulled the small buzzer out of her pocket. It was about the size of a cigarette lighter and it easily slipped underneath the back of the saddle against the horse’s flank. The horse turned and looked toward her, ears flicking back and forth.
“Oh you’ll be fine,” Bethany muttered, taping the small device in place. “People use these things on race horses all the time.” Sure it was illegal but God, if those stupid animal rights activists had their way, everyone would be, like, eating tofu and kale for every meal.
Bethany pulled the remote out of her pocket to test the buzzer. Before she could, though, she heard voices coming her way.
“Shit.” She slipped through the bars of the stall and down the hall before anyone could see her.
She smiled as she took the long way around to the arena seating. She couldn’t wait to watch the show.
Chapter 33
CALLA
Calla was jogging back toward where she’d left Painter stalled and almost ran into the back end of a horse.
“Oh!” she said, pulling up short as the horse and two people leading it turned to look at her.
“Dr. Nunez?”
A young woman stood beside her. The doctor’s daughter, Calla bet.
“Calla.” Dr. Nunez’s eyes lit up at seeing her but then she averted her gaze like she’d just remembered something.
Like that Calla was her patient and they had an appointment next week to reveal Calla’s test results.
“Did the results come back already?”
Dr. Nunez head jerked up to Calla and then she quickly looked away again. “It’s good to see you, Calla. Good luck today. Come on, Savannah.” She pulled on the horse’s reins like that’s how she meant to leave it.
Holy shit. Calla grabbed her elbow. “If you know, you have to tell me. Please,” she begged. “Think about if it was your daughter. I have to know.” Maybe a low blow, but God, the knowledge about Calla’s entire future could be standing right in front of her.
Dr. Nunez’s eyes flicked toward her daughter. “‘Vannah, why don’t you take Mariposa back down to her stall. I’ll be right there.”
Savannah nodded and led the horse further down the tunnel back toward the temporary stalls.
Calla squeezed Dr. Nunez’s arm. “Please.”
Dr. Nunez sighed, then looked around them. Behind them, cheers and applause came from the arena.
“This is completely unprofessional. And you’re about to compete. The last thing I should be—”
“So I have it?” Calla pressed. “I tested positive? Is that what you’re saying?” She knew it. She’d been stupid to think for even a second that—
“No,” Dr. Nunez exclaimed. Then she pressed her eyes shut a moment before opening them again and pulling Calla off to the side of the tunnel hallway. Her eyes gentled. “Your test came back negative for Huntingtons.”
Negative?
Calla collapsed back against the wall, blinking in shock.
“Not only that,” Dr. Nunez smiled gently, “but your CAG repeats were so low, there’s no chance any of your offspring will have it either.”
Calla choked and then bent over, hands on her stomach.
She couldn’t believe her ears. Did she—
She shot up straight. “You’re sure? There’s no chance—?”
“None,” Dr. Nunez assured her.
“Thank you,” Calla said. “I don’t know how I can ever— Just, thank you.”
Calla felt like crying. And dancing. And whooping in elation at the top of her lungs. She hugged Dr. Nunez and thanked her again.
Then she ran the rest of the way back to Painter’s stall.
“What’s up with you?” she asked when Painter neighed anxiously after she stepped in the stall. She laughed and rubbed down her nose. “Today is our lucky day.”
She frowned as she said it. Because it wasn’t half an hour ago that both Mack and Liam had broken her heart.
But her son or daughter wouldn’t get Huntingtons. And she’d be able to raise them without ever having to worry about abandoning them by getting sick herself.
It meant everything.
“Come on, girl,” she said to Painter, opening the gate and leading her out. “Don’t want to be late to the party.”
As Calla led her around to where competitors had lined up by the chute that led into the arena, her mind raced. For the first time, she could really start planning her future. And even if it didn’t have either of the men of her dreams in it, she would make it a damn good one.
“You and me, little lime,” she whispered, patting her stomach. “You and me.”
Chapter 34
MACK
Mack was this close to leaving them all behind without another look back. He shifted from park into first gear. But then he froze.
Pregnant. She was pregnant.
It could be yours.
No. Christ. How could he even feel a stab of hope or joy at the thought? He was so fucked up. He was born shit and any baby he made would be—
His mind rejected the thought before he could finish it.
The baby was half Calla. And something that came from her couldn’t be anything less than perfect.
He squeezed his eyes shut and as soon as he did, he saw Sammy’s bloody, broken body.
Christ. That had happened because of Mack. He needed to get as far away from Calla and Liam before Bone ever knew a thing about them.
Mack slammed the steering wheel. He heard the roar of the cheering crowd. There were speakers on the outside of the arena that broadcast everything happening inside.
And then Mack heard, “Next up, Cal Carter, representing Mel’s Horse Rescue with her mustang, Painter!”
He’d leave. He would. But after one last glimpse of her.
He slammed the door to his truck and ran into the a
rena. He had to push his way through a group of reporters bottlenecked at the entrance of the arena where a harried looking security guard was holding them back.
“Mackenzie. Mackenzie Knight?”
“It’s Mackenzie!”
Mack looked up sharply at all the eyes quickly turning his way. How the fuck did any of these people know his name?
“This picture of you and billionaire playboy Liam O’Neill was snapped last night.” One of the reporters held up a tablet showing some internet site with a clear picture of him, Calla, and Liam dancing. Close. Closer than close.
Shit.
“Tell us, is Liam cheating on Isobel Snow, last year’s Missing Heiress?”
“What’s your relationship to Liam O’Neill?”
“Can you comment on rumors that Liam suffers from amnesia and hasn’t known where he’s been the past year and a half?”
“Get the fuck outta my way,” Mack growled, finally managing to push through the reporters and to a curtained off area. There were two entrances to the arena and Mack made his way around to the one furthest from the reporters.
He slid through the competitors and horses lined up there until he was right up against the gate so he could see into the arena without going up into the stands. Calla was already taking Painter through her paces.
“Looks like you had the right idea about getting out of town.”
Mack jerked his head around and there was Liam, back propped up against the opposite wall.
“I met your adoring public,” Mack muttered, eyes going back to Calla.
Liam went on like Mack hadn’t said anything. “I’m out of here as soon as I can pack me things up at the ranch.” Liam pulled his wide-brimmed hat low.
Mack glanced his way. “Oh yeah? What’s Calla got to say about that?”
“She doesn’t get a say.” Liam’s jaw tensed. “She was playing me this whole time.”
Mack turned his head at that. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
