by Sienna Parks
“Fucking, fuck!” Maddox’s voice rings out in the encroaching darkness.
I instinctively break out running toward the sound of someone in pain, to find him clutching his hand, streaks of red dripping onto the dry, yellow hay. “What happened? Let me look at that for you.”
“Annabeth? What the hell? I told you to stay away from here. Go. I don’t need your help.”
Years of training wins out over my desire to cower at his glare. The boy that once saw my very soul, now only sees pain and betrayal. “You do need my help, and you will accept it right now, because you’re bleeding, and you could get a nasty infection if you don’t let me clean it up. I’ll be right back.” I need to get my medical bag from the truck, but as I jog out the door, I catch him muttering to himself.
“I won’t hold my breath. I’ll probably bleed to death waiting on you to return.”
I keep moving—my resolve to find a way to live in this town with him, growing with every step. I know I broke his heart all those years ago, but he can’t hate me forever… I hope. I quickly grab my kit and sprint back to the stables, grinding to a halt at the sight of him. His white t-shirt now wrapped around his hand, soaking up the blood. His body is… staggeringly taut. Low-slung wranglers highlighting his iliac furrow. He had the sexy V when we were dating, but he was a kid back then. Now he is the picture of a rugged bronc rider—cut in all the right places, his skin tanned from working the ranch. His hair is darker, less blond than it was in his teens, and a perfect length to fist your hands in.
I snap out of my shameless ogling at the sound of his voice. “Wow. All that training and a bloody hand has you frozen? Glad to know you left me for good reason.”
“Just shut up and let me take a look.” I fight back the tears threatening to fall. “I get you’re pissed, but you were never cruel.”
“That’s what happens when someone you trusted, stabs you in the back without explanation or apology.” I go to work on his hand, cleaning the blood to see what I’m dealing with. “Why are you here, Annabeth?”
“Do you call me that just to hurt me?”
“What the fuck? It’s your name!” I pour antiseptic over his wound. “Shit! Son of a b…”
“You never call me Annabeth. You haven’t since we were five years old.”
“I haven’t spoken to you in fourteen years. I’m not sure what the social etiquette is. I used to shout your name while fucking you, but I don’t do that anymore either.”
Just the word on his lips has me pressing my legs together. “At least admit you know it hurts me.”
“Fine. I don’t want to call you A.B. I know it hurts you, but it hurts me more. For me… my A.B. died the day she left me behind. Part of me died along with her. Can you just accept it and stay away from me?”
I finish wrapping his hand, the tension between us crushing my insides. The touch of his skin against my hand has me burning up. The silence is deafening, but I can’t find the right words. Sorry isn’t enough, and nothing else seems appropriate. As I secure the bandage around his warm, callused palm, my fingers drift to his forearm—my heart stops beating. His hand wraps around my wrist, restraining me.
My eyes dart up to meet his… brimming with anger, lust… or both. There are so many unanswered questions, swimming in the depths of his intense blue gaze. My breath is shallow as I fight every cell in my body, until I can’t deny it any longer. I’ve imagined this moment so many times over the years. A slow sensual kiss—the rekindling of a love that was destined to come back to us. Instead, I lunge at him, taking his lips in a desperate plea for forgiveness.
His scent envelops me as I savor the touch of his tongue… gentle, yet firm. I run my hands up his back—his naked flesh is deliciously hard and toned. My fingers curl into his messy hair, pulling him closer, but just as I relax into the kiss, he pushes me away.
“What the fuck? You think you can just waltz back into town and pick up where we left off?”
“No! I…”
“Pulling on me like some fucking toy you get to control. I don’t think so. I’m not a naïve, love-struck teenager anymore.”
“I wasn’t trying to control anything.” My cheeks flush with the volume of his voice.
“Why are you here?”
“I just wanted to talk to you. To explain.”
“I told you I don’t want to see you, or speak to you. What don’t you understand?”
My mouth engages before my brain. “The way you kissed me just then, says otherwise.”
“You kissed me! I got over you, Annabeth. You forced that to happen, not me. You don’t get to come back after fourteen years and expect anything from me.”
“I don’t!”
“You don’t respect my wishes. I wasn’t subtle about it, was I?”
“No, but…” He strides toward me, grasping my arms in his hands. His bandage turns red with the pressure of his hold.
“Then why do you feel it’s your right to demand I listen to you now? You left without even a hint of an explanation, and I never heard from you again. Do you have any idea what that felt like?”
My voice is barely a whisper, as I fight the tears welling in my eyes. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done… leaving you.”
“I don’t want to hear it! Stop this. Stop trying to ease your guilt. If you cared about me at all, you would leave me alone.”
“I’m so sorry, Maddox. I didn’t come here to upset you.”
His eyes search mine, wild and wanton. “What do you want from me? What? Tell me!”
“I…” I can’t find the words. “I want…”
“I don’t want you, Annabeth! I got over you. Goddammit!” He grabs my face in his palms, his lips descending on mine in a frenzied kiss. Our tongues twist and tangle in a punishing rhythm—transcendent in its primal simplicity. His hands roam my body, pulling me closer—the evidence of his arousal pressing against my thigh. The reality of this moment is so far beyond what I’ve imagined over the years. I never dreamt I would be the focus of his desire again. I didn’t think I’d ever be in the same room as him, when I made the decision to move back to Kingsbury Falls.
I slide my hand between us, rubbing my hand over his washboard abs, his soft skin, a delight to the senses. His guttural groans only fuel the flames of my desire. His movements are hard and fast, pushing me against the stall. Reaching for the button of his jeans, I’m suddenly left bereft and gasping for air as he stumbles back, his bloodstained fingers brushing over his kiss-swollen lips.
“I need you to leave.” His voice is low and menacing—his mood has changed on a dime.
“I never meant to… I’m sorry, Maddox.”
“Go! Now!”
“We need to talk… especially after what just happened.” I can still taste him on my lips.
“This was a clusterfuck of a mistake.”
His words are a dagger to my heart. “Okay. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I got caught up in the moment. The last time I was this close to you…”
“Was the night before you left me. Don’t you think I remember? That’s exactly why you need to go.”
“Give me a chance. Please. Can’t we at least try to be friends?” My last word is a red rag to a bull.
“Friends? Are you goddamn delusional, Annabeth? We will never be friends. A momentary lack of judgement doesn’t absolve you of fourteen years of silence. I’m a guy… you could have been anyone just now, and I would’ve reacted the same way.”
My hand connects with his face before I know what I’m doing—slap! The sharp burst of sound reverberates throughout the stables. “You’re a cruel bastard, Maddox Hale.” A flash of guilt crosses his features, before his brow furrows in anger.
“I’m cruel? Get the hell out of here, Dr. Clark. I have nothing left to say to you, and I certainly have no desire to listen to any of your empty apologies, or fake offers of friendship. You showed me your true colors fourteen years ago. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
“And yo
u just showed me yours. You want to condemn me for the actions of the girl I once was. What about you? You’re a married man, and a father. You want to stand here and judge me?!”
His face is mere inches from mine. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”
“Tell me, then.”
“You don’t deserve to know. Go listen to the town gossip mongers. We’re done here.” He strides out the door, disappearing into the darkness.
I stagger over to one of the hay bales, my legs unable to sustain me. I told myself I came here tonight to make some kind of move toward peace, but seeing the depth of Maddox animosity, I realize it was selfish on my part. I wanted to assuage my guilt, and instead I feel worse. I turned his life on its head all those years ago, and I could see it in his eyes tonight—I’m doing it again. If I wasn’t so concerned with what I want, and what I need, maybe I would have listened to him when he told me he doesn’t want anything to do with me.
When I finally make it back to my truck, I stare into the rearview mirror, taking in the sight of the mess before me. There’s hay tangled in my hair, and Maddox’s blood smeared on my cheek. My lips look like they’ve been stung by yellow-jackets—a lingering reminder of my insanity. As I maneuver the truck through the gates and out onto the pitch-black, winding road back to town, tears begin to fall.
I blew any chance I had of explaining the biggest mistake of my life. Clouded in despair, I can’t bring myself to regret our kiss. To feel his lips on mine, only served to confirm memories are but a pale imitation of the real thing. What I do regret, and always will, is that Maddox Hale will never trust me again.
MADDOX
I’ve been kicking myself for days. How could I give in so easily? If this were Jackson, I would’ve given him no end of shit, and he’s making sure I know how badly I fucked up. I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but this… thing… with A.B. has been on my mind 24/7—a loop of guilt and frustration, and downright bewilderment.
I’ve been working non-stop since I walked out of the stable that night, trying to distract myself from the glaring truth I’ve been running from for years. Every time I close my eyes, I feel her lips on mine, and the way her curls coiled around my wrist. For a brief moment, I forgot about all of the pain and anger she caused, and lost myself in the sensation of her sweet skin pressed firmly against my chest. But, as soon as she reached for my jeans, it was like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on my junk.
For her to be the aggressor—the one calling the shots on our inferno of a reunion—filled me with rage. I knew I was making a mistake the minute our lips met. Dang, I knew from the moment she walked through the stable doors. But I felt she was on my stomping ground. My terms. But, to have her think, for even a moment, she can just waltz back into town and snap her fingers and I’ll come begging—well, that makes me madder than an alligator in a bathtub.
To add insult to injury, the minute I got back in the house, I walked straight into a cold shower. I didn’t even stop to take my jeans off, but even after five minutes of freezing water, I was still hard as a fucking rock. Rubbing one out to the image of her panting and desperate for me to fuck her—was humiliating. I felt like the same horny eighteen-year-old who would do anything she asked, for one stroke of her hand on my cock.
My thoughts these past few days have been confused, at best. There’s a fine line between love and hate—I have walked that tightrope, in anguished rage, many times since Annabeth left me. I know part of me will always belong to her. I will always love her. But, over time, dismay gave way to anger, and anger became bitterness. My view of women was always a jaded one—trust is something to be earned, and my mom taught me love and loyalty don’t necessarily go hand in hand. With Annabeth, it was different. She had been a part of me since my earliest memories. I ignored the little voice of caution and gave her my heart with reckless abandon. When she left, she took that hope and crushed it underfoot.
The situation with Sam was entirely my fault. I knew she was a flight risk, it’s one of the reasons I was attracted to her in the first place—no strings, no commitments. Our relationship was mutually beneficial. I had a hot girl to party with and enjoy my success with. She had the status she craved. There was never any doubt in my mind—we were completely wrong for each other. If I hadn’t been so careless, our relationship would have burned out within a year. And yet, I hate to use the word careless, because I was blessed with Rae, and I know with absolute certainty I was destined to be her daddy. She made everything else worthwhile—the heartache, loss, and betrayal.
Rae is the reason I can’t stand the sight of myself in the mirror right now. I jeopardized our status quo and my sanity, for five minutes of thinking with my dick. It may have been a fun trip down memory lane for Annabeth—some closure of our relationship. But, for me… it was so much more, and I guess that’s why I reacted so harshly.
“Boy, you going to stay in that head of yours all day, or you gonna help me bale this hay?” My dad has been riding my ass for days.
“How about you give me a fucking break?”
“Don’t you talk back to me, boy. I will still beat your ass up and down this field.”
“In your dreams. I would end you with one punch, old man. So, why don’t you get out of my face and stop acting like you have any say in my life. You need me here.”
“You seem to forget I’m the one who took you in when Sam left you. I’m the one who put a roof over your head and helped you with Rae.”
“Bullshit! I run this fucking place. You never did anything out of the goodness of your heart. You don’t even have one. No wonder momma ran out on us. Pops is the only father I’ve ever had. You were too busy with this damn ranch to notice. I came here for him. Rae and I would have been just fine on our own.” His shock turns to anger. The deep-set lines of his brow, furrowed tight.
“You ungrateful... Your momma was a no-good piece of trash, just like Sam, and just like Annabeth. She fucked you up real good, boy, and you’re letting her do it all over again. If it wasn’t for me, you’d never have amounted to anything. And look at you now… gave up the only thing you were good at because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. Now you’re saddled with a kid, no woman, and no prospects. You’ll get what I leave you when I’m gone… your future and the future of this ranch, is all because of me.”
“Fuck you, Bobby. I’m nothing like you! I’m not saddled with Rae. See, that’s the difference between us. You always saw me as a burden. My daughter is a fucking gift, and don’t you forget it.” His eyes soften, regret evident as he struggles to find the words. I know he loves Rae—he’s never looked at her with anything but love and affection. None of the contempt I’m used to when he bothers to acknowledge me. “I’ll bale the hay later. I’m going to take Rae out riding. Honestly, I can’t stand the sight of you right now.” I trudge through the field, leaving him speechless and alone.
“Faster, Daddy! Faster!”
Rae is full of beans today. Same as every other day. The moment I lifted her into my arms, all of my anger disintegrated. She’s a special soul, and I’m not just saying that because I’m her daddy. Everyone who meets her falls in love. Her spirit and innocent joy is so endearing. “Don’t tell me. Tell Artemis.”
Her laughter echoes through the trees. “Faster, Arty! Faster! Gid-up!”
Artemis responds, just as enthralled by Rae, as we speed through the forest and out into the field. My heart sinks as the hay bales come into view on the horizon. I told him I would do it later. He’d break his back just to spite me—cantankerous old coot.
I head for the stables, my anger returning with a vengeance. Jax is busy breaking in a new Mustang. This one is as wild as they come, powerful and breathtaking to watch. He’s got his work cut out for him, but his will is stronger than any untamed horse.
When he’s finished for the day, he quickly finds his way to Rae. “How’s my little buddy today?”
“Daddy and me were riding Arty for a long time. He was s
o fast!” She readily jumps into his arms.
“I’m glad you had fun, sunshine. I thought you were hanging with Pops today.” She turns to me with a puzzled gaze.
“I wanted to spend the day with my daughter. Is that a crime?” He sees right through my defensive reply.
“Hey, Rae. You wanna go get ice-cream with me?”
He turns to me, a knowing look in his eye. “Whatever you two are fighting about now, go and fix it.”
“He’s just being same old Bobby. Derogatory and condescending at every turn. Making out like I’d be nothing without him and this ranch. I made my money on the circuit. I was a fucking champion. I’m not exactly hard up. Old man is acting like Rae would be living in poverty if it wasn’t for him.”
He grabs my shoulder. “You know the truth, Mad. You chose to come back here for Rae. You and I both know this ranch has grown exponentially since we partnered up. You did the right thing for your daughter. Nothing he says is ever going to change that. You can’t keep letting him get to you.”
“Easier said than done. I feel like I can’t breathe on this ranch, or in this damn town.”
“Is this about A.B.?”
“No! My life doesn’t revolve around a girl I dated more than a decade ago. I’m just fed up having my dad standing over me all the time, his disappointment dripping from every word we exchange. I’m thirty-two years old and a single dad. I want some space to… live my life.”
“Well, go and tell him. I’m going to take this little one to clean up and then go out for a few hours.”
I plant a kiss on Rae’s soft little cheek and head out to the field to find my dad. With my hands tucked into the worn-out pockets of my jeans, I scuff my boots through the brush, following the trail of newly baled hay. The loud hum of the baler rumbles in my chest, and my dad comes into view. He’s resting at the side of the oversized piece of machinery—he looks tiny by comparison. My mind churns with the many things I want to say to him. Jax is right, I need to stand up and own my independence.