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“Shite,” Brigid swore. “Liam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” She reached for him again but he pulled back.
“No, don’t take it back.” He stretched his jaw. She packed quite a wallop. “I think that’s the fitting end to us.” He shook his head. “If you knew me at all, you woulda known all I ever wanted was someone who wanted me for me. Starting the way we did, I don’t know why I ever thought that person would be you.”
“Liam, I can be that pers— Wait, where are you going?” She followed him as she went out the front door and headed for his truck. He needed to take a drive. Clear his head.
“Wait. Liam. Please!” she pleaded.
He slammed his truck door in her face, then peeled out. Then he sped out of there, leaving his da and the woman he once thought he loved in his dust.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
MACK
Calla fell asleep in Mack’s arms about an hour after Liam left them. He’d texted Liam several times to ask what was going on but got nothing back.
Calla said he was probably just catching up with his dad. Mack didn’t tell her he saw Liam storming out of the hotel when he’d followed him back downstairs earlier. Or that that woman, Brigid, had gone right after him.
Calla always believed the best in people. So Mack had just nodded along, not believing it for a minute. People like Liam always stuck to their own kind in the end. The fact that he himself had started allowing Liam just the little bit in made Mack furious with himself.
But if he was honest, Liam had wormed his way under Mack’s skin. Calla too.
Mack would find his thoughts straying to the softness of Calla’s hair at the most random moments. Whenever he made a breakthrough with Torpedo, she was the first one he wanted to tell. And whenever he had a setback, he immediately wanted to take out his frustrations on Liam’s ass.
Though really, there’d even been more tender moments between him and the bloody Irishman lately. Who would have thought? Just this morning, early as fuck, he’d woken up hard as a rock and gone in to grab Liam so they could go give Calla a wake-up call she wouldn’t forget.
And he’d stood there for a good five minutes just watching Liam sleep.
What the fuck was that about?
Thank Christ for the rude awakening of Liam’s past coming back to remind both of them exactly who Liam Delaney O’Neill was.
Because the clock had wound down. Time was up. Mack was supposed to split town as soon as Torpedo was auctioned tomorrow. But he hadn’t yet made any plans. Or packed any of his things.
He sifted his hands through Calla’s soft hair as she slept against his chest. His gut clenched and he felt fucking nauseated at the thought of leaving them.
What if he didn—
Shit. No. He couldn’t think like that…
Could he?
He jerked forward. Calla stirred in his arms and he froze. When she settled, he moved her gently so that she was laying on the bed.
Then he got up and paced back toward the window.
The thought returned—what if?
What if he didn’t go back for Bone? What if he forgot that part of his life had ever happened? What if the happiness he’d found here could actually last?
He sat for hours watching Calla sleep. Waiting for Liam to come home. The others got back from the bar a little after Liam left but they were quiet and didn’t wake Calla.
By three a.m. he’d memorized every contour of Calla’s face but he wasn’t any closer to deciding what he should do. He climbed into bed beside Calla. Her body was so warm and when he slept with her and Liam, the nightmares didn’t come.
He was so tired. So, so tired.
Ever since Ben had died, Mack spent every spare moment thinking about taking his revenge on Bone. Fuck the consequences.
He was born shit and he’d die shit, right?
