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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 arena. 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?”
