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Wait, was that Mack?
Out in the far parking lot. A man stood out in the middle of nowhere with his hands on his head. He looked a hell of a lot like Mack.
Liam squinted and leaned over the steering wheel. Liam knew the way Mack carried himself. The way he walked. Knew everything about the lad if he were honest with himself.
Which is why you shoulda gone to talk things over with him and Calla last night instead of drinking yourself stupid.
Because dammit, he wasn’t the same. He had changed. And Calla and Mack had helped him change.
He looked around and checked his mirrors before putting the truck in drive again and heading out to where Mack was standing. He slowed down and brought the truck and trailer to a stop. Mack didn’t even look up. He was just standing there in the middle of nowhere with hunched shoulders, staring at the ground.
Liam honked his horn but Mack only looked his way briefly. Then he just kept walking.
Shite. Liam shoulda known the lanky bastard wouldn’t let last night go so easy. He slammed the truck in park and then jumped down from the cab.
“Mack,” he called. “Mackenzie!”
He jogged up beside Mack but when he tried to put a hand on his arm, Mack jerked away so roughly it made Liam stumble.
“What the fuck?” Liam said. Then he breathed out. Mack just kept walking and Liam gritted his teeth and then jogged after him again.
“Look, I’m sorry for how shite went down last night. I should have come right back to you and Calla like I said I would. But things are bad with me da. He might not even be me real da. I might be the son of the fecking stableman. And then Brigid, the woman, she was there to complicate shite and— Jaysus, would you just stop for a second and listen to me? I’m trying to apologize here.”
Mack stopped and whirled on him. Liam took a step back at the look of mottled rage on his face. What the—
“You think I care about your bullshit rich boy daddy issues? Wake the fuck up!” Mack yelled, throwing out his arms. “Some people have real fucking problems.”
“Why do you always have to be such a shite about everything?” Liam fired back. “I’m sorry if me problems are too white-collar for ya.”
Mack got right up in his face. “Admit it. You’re gonna make up with your dad and then drop Calla because that’s what rich, self-entitled users like you do. The help is good for a fuck but that’s it, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
Liam pulled back, sneering in disgust and shaking his head. “I can’t believe I felt bad for walking out on you last night. You’re a piece of shite who can’t see something good when it’s right in your face. You’re so busy being sure everyone in the world is out to get you. Calla deserves so much.”
A shadow crossed Mack’s face but then he threw his hands up again. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.” He turned and resumed walking away.
“Excuse me, are you Liam O’Neill?” Liam’s attention was jerked away from Mackenzie’s disappearing form by a woman sticking a microphone in his face. “Son of media mogul Sean O’Neill and Irish Film and Television Award winning actress Ailis O’Neill?”
Shite. How had the fucking paparazzi found out he was here?
“Is it true you’ve been having an affair with Isobel Snow? Last year’s Missing Heiress?”
“What?” Liam asked, then shook his head, trying to edge around the woman. She just moved in front of him again.
“There are reports of you and Isobel in a cozy cuddle last night at the Mile High Bar and Grill. Can you confirm or deny these rumors?”
Isobel? What the fuck were they on about? Jaysus, these fucking vultures would make up anything for a story.
Which was nothing to what would happen if they sniffed out the actual truth.
Shite. He headed toward a side entrance to the arena.
He had to find Calla. Now.
30
CALLA
“Mack! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Calla said, hurrying up to him as he yanked the safety chains off the trailer and then disconnected the wiring cable.
