Page 68 of Beg for You

I stood there, every muscle rock solid, stunned.

“The night I came to you, the first night you…touched me, my father told me his plan for me, that he wanted me to marry Spencer.”

Christ, when she’d gotten drunk and I’d brought her back to my apartment, she’d mentioned Spencer, had said he and her father had some “messed-up plan” but refused to talk about it.

She took a step toward me. “I came to you because you…you made me feel alive, Cal. You make me feel more like the me I’ve kept hidden my whole life, the me I want to be.”

My heart was slamming against the back of my ribs.

“Cal…Joel?”

My whole body rocked back at the sound of my name on her lips, a full-body shudder moving through me. She was telling the truth; of course she was. There was no missing it, no denying the truth of it in her gorgeous fucking eyes, not anymore.

I closed the distance between us, curling my fingers around the side of her delicate neck. “I’m so sorry, baby. I fucked up…I…” I shook my head.

“What my father did to you—”

“I was wrong, so fucking wrong. Hurting you, I didn’t think…I don’t want that, can’t fucking bear the thought of it—”

“I don’t blame you for despising us.” She shook her head. “I don’t. If I’d spoken up, if I’d told my father the truth, none of this would have happened. Chris would still be here. Bull wouldn’t have gone to prison, and Dane would never have been taken away.”

“What happened to Chris, that was not your fault, Princess.”

A tear slid down her smooth skin, sparkling in the moonlight like liquid diamonds. “I wish that were true.”

“Cassy, fuck…”

“I don’t know what to do.” She held my stare. “My grandmother is sick. This ranch is everything to her. I thought we’d lose her when my father sold some of the land to Spencer’s father, she was so heartbroken. Losing this place, it would kill her.” She shook her head. “I’ve tried to come up with a way out of this…I’ve tried, but there isn’t one. I’m stuck. I just…I need more time. To find a way out…an investor…”

“Cassandra?” A voice echoed from beyond the bedroom. “Cassandra!”

Her eyes widened, lips parting like the air had been punched from her lungs. “It’s Spencer. Please, just…I need to get through tonight. Maybe there’s still a way out of this. But first I just have to get through tonight.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting with myself to stop from walking back inside and using Spencer’s fucking smug face as a punching bag.

A door opened and closed.

“I have to go,” she said, eyes pleading with me to keep my mouth shut as she rushed past me and back inside. I stayed where I was as I heard her greet her fiancé, listened while she lied about why she was out here, and then I heard them leave.

I walked back inside and stared at the door they’d just gone through. Jesus, she truly believed Chris’s death was her fault.

I’d been too hurt to let myself see the truth.

Cassy.

My Cassy.

Chris killed Chris, and I needed to make her believe it. And I would.

There was no fucking way I was letting her go through with this.

I loved her. I loved her so fucking much the thought of her being with anyone else made me lose my mind.

I didn’t know if she felt the same for me. But whether she wanted me at the end of this or not, I would not let her fuck up her life like this.

I would not stand by and let her sacrifice herself for her family.

I found Lyall at the edge of the room, stiff back, hands at his sides, fingers twitching. His eyes were on Spencer, who was leading Cassy around the room like he’d won the fucking lottery, his hand on her hip. I wanted to tear that hand off and shove it down his neck. Lyall didn’t look as though he was happy about it either. That look of distaste on his face gave me hope that he might be open to my proposal, even if it was coming from me.