The Virgin Next Door

by Stasia Black

  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?

  There was nothing but darkness for him. No future. No joy. Just doing what needed doing and then either spending the rest of his days rotting in a cell for it, or, more likely, getting cut down by another of the Devil’s Spawn.

  But… maybe, just maybe, choosing his future was as simple as that—a choice. Shit could be fertilizer, right? If there was the right person nurturing whatever was growing.

  His eyes fell on Calla again. Someone bright and full of life like her.

  Christ, he was tired. Fucking delirious if he was having such flowery fuckin’ thoughts.

  He let his head drop back against the pillows. Calla was so warm in his arms. She even smelled like sunshine.

  He fell asleep, that old song playing in his head, you are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

  “Do you think he’s okay?” Calla asked for what felt like the hundredth time as she and Mack parked the trailer in the designated area. They were towing Calla’s horse and Xavier and Mel were bringing Tornado over from the stables where they’d boarded them for the night.

  One look at Calla’s anxious face made Mack want to punch Liam in the fucking face. Especially on a day that was this important to her. She’d only brought it up once, but Mack knew she had hopes of winning one of the cash prizes today. She had a real shot at it. What she’d accomplished with Painter in three months was fucking phenomenal.

  But she needed every ounce of focus she had. Which Liam fucking knew.

  “You saw the text,” Mack said, trying to make his voice reassuring even though he felt anything but. “He’s fine. He’ll be here soon.” The text had been three lines long. See you this morning at arena. Went for drive last night. Didn’t want to wake you when I got back.

  Calla put a hand on his arm, stopping him from getting out of the car. “It’s okay if last night upset you. I know you two can be…” she looked to the roof of the car before meeting his gaze again, “volatile. But I know how much you care about him.”

  Mack paused, frowning. Shit, was she right? Was he so mad at the bastard because he was worried about him?

  He pushed the car door open. “Wouldn’t have killed him to have fucking called,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Calla came around the front of the truck cab and threw her arms around his waist. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She looked up at him, eyes searching. “Right?”

  His chest went tight at seeing her uncertainty. “You bet your ass. Everything’s gonna be great.” He gave her a squeeze, and then a quick smack on the ass. “Now let’s go get your prizewinner ready.”

  She smiled and nodded. He was about to follow her to the back of the trailer rig when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  Sammy was Facetiming him.

  Mack frowned. Sammy knew the competition was today. He wouldn’t be calling if he didn’t have something important.

  “I’m gonna go check on Torpedo, okay, hon?” Mack called out to Calla.

  “See you in there.”

  Mack was already striding away. The phone stopped ringing but started right back up again. Mack finally answered when he got to an empty part of the huge parking lot where no one would overhear him.

  “What’s up, Sammy?”

  But it wasn’t Sammy’s face he saw on the other end. It was some fucking meathead.

  “Who the fuck are y—”

  “Bone’s got a message for you,” the meathead said.

  Mack’s blood went cold. The screen shifted like the guy was moving the phone around. It settled on a computer screen that was obviously some kind of camera feed.

  And what Mack saw almost made him lose his breakfast.

  There was just enough light to see Sammy, naked, bloody, and strung up on a hook like he was a slab of meat at the butchers. He was screaming in agony.

  “Please! Please, don’t—”

  Mack almost dropped the phone. “Sam!” he shouted.

  And then came that evil fucking laugh that haunted Mack’s dreams.

  Bone’s face filled the computer screen a second later. He grinned, showing off his stained, yellow teeth. “Baby boy, I heard you been asking around about me. You wanted to arrange a reunion all you had to do was ask me direct.”

  Bile rose up Mack’s throat

  “Instead, I learn you got one of our own playing snitch for you.”

  Bone moved out of the way and Sammy’s body took up the frame again. Some of the blood and grime on his chest was dark, but some was bright red like Bone had slashed him right before placing the call. Mack’s stomach bottomed out at seeing his friend like this.

  “Gotta say I didn’t mind having the excuse to get me a little plaything,” Bone’s voice came over the video of Sammy. “It’s so goddamned boring on the outside. I miss having my pick of the fresh meat.”

  Bone circled one of Sammy’s nipples with a sharp hunting knife. “Remember the first day you walked the block, baby boy?”

  “Fuck!” Mack yelled when Bone sliced Sammy’s nipple off. Sammy screamed and writhed on the hook. Mack dropped to his knees, staring at the phone.

  “Foreplay just gets me so excited,” came Bone’s voice again. “Maybe you have missed me all these years and that’s why you sent this fucking idiot to try to learn about me. So I’d know just where to come and find you. Because Sammy here? He sang like a songbird as soon as I pulled off the first fingernail. Wyoming, huh? I didn’t make you out for a city boy.”

  Mack sat paralyzed, eyes glued to the screen.

  “Feel free to stay and watch the show. I’ll be seeing you soon, baby boy.”

  Sammy whimpered something Mack couldn’t make out. There was another five minutes to the video and Mack wanted to throw the goddamned thing across the fucking parking lot. But maybe there was some deal he could make with Bone. Maybe he could offer to exchange himself for—

  Sammy’s scream filled the phone speakers and Mack could only sit helplessly by for the rest of the video while Bone raped his friend and then slit his throat.

  Bone’s demonic laugh was the last thing Mack heard before the phone call was ended.

  29

  LIAM

  Liam felt like shite as he pulled in to the arena parking lot.

  “Fuck,” he swore as he swerved to miss an oncoming car in the lot. The loud honk only had him swearing more as he grabbed his head and stomped on the break.

  Driving around last night hadn’t done shite for his head and neither had coming back to the hotel and emptying the minibar.

  He should have gone to Calla or Mack. But seeing Da and then all that bullshit with Brigid—it had him feeling exactly like nothing had changed in the last t
wo years. That he was the exact same spoiled little cunt that had run away from his daddy issues with his tail between his legs—

  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.

  He jerked upright and for a second, Calla had the strangest feeling Mack was about to get in the truck and slam the door right in her face. But then he paused and leaned back over, lifting the coupler off the ball hitch. He kept his face averted. Why couldn’t he look at her?

  “What?” Calla asked in alarm. “What’s happened? Is Liam okay?”

  “That snob will always be just fine.” Mack’s voice was full of acrimony as he dropped the trailer hitch.

  “Did you two have another fight?” She followed on his heels as he walked around to the driver’s side and got up in the cab. She wedged herself in the open door. He would not be going anywhere until she got some answers.

  Mack just shook his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter.” He looked forward through the windshield, jaw working. “It’s time for me to move on, that’s all.”

  Move on? Like…

  “You’re leaving?” She could barely get the words past her suddenly dry throat.

  Mack looked down and then away. “I always said I would.” He tossed the wrench he’d been using on the hitch into the passenger side floorboards. “It was time I was hitting the road.”

  Calla could only stare on in confusion. “But Torpedo. You have to show him today. This doesn’t make any sense. Where are you even—”

  “Back East. Got some things I got to take care of. They can’t wait.” He still didn’t look toward her.

  “And then what?” she asked incredulously. “Will you come back?”

  He shook his head. “Told you. I’m movin’ on.”

  This time Calla took several steps back. How could he…? She felt like she’d just been slammed in the chest by a semi.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “What don’t you understand?” Mack turned her way angrily. “This was always my plan. I gave it to you straight from the beginning. You said you were okay with it.”

  Calla’s jaw set. “Things changed. You know they did. What we’ve shared,” she glared at him. “I didn’t imagine that.”

  Mack just shook his head stubbornly. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I got a path I’m meant to walk. And it ain’t with you.”

  “I’m pregnant.” The words fell out of her mouth without her thinking them through. Mack’s head jerked in her direction.

  And it just kept spewing out. “I don’t know if you or Liam is the father. With the timeframe the doctor gave me, it could be either of yours. I didn’t think I could— I’ve always been irregular and—” She stopped and looked down. “Anyway, I’m not sure if I should keep it. What my dad has, it’s genetic. I could have it too, and so could the baby. I don’t know what to do.”

  Finally letting it go felt like having a hundred pounds lifted off her shoulders. But God, what now? Would he be furious at her for keeping it a secret all this time?

  But when Mack climbed down out of the cab, he took her face gently in her hands. “You’ll be a wonderful mother.” His voice was so soft it was barely a whisper. His eyebrows drew together. “But believe me, you don’t want me. You and Liam will raise that baby and be able to give them everything. The life they deserve.”

  He was breaking her heart. Couldn’t he see that? “But—”

  His eyebrows suddenly furrowed. “Should you still be doing the mustang competition?”

  Oh so he cared about the baby in the abstract, as long as he didn’t have to ever see it?

  She pulled away from him. “I changed my routine. I’m only doing one galloping pass and the rest is low impact stuff. A lot of experienced, professional women riders keep riding when they’re pregnant.”

  She didn’t know why she was bothering to defend her choices to him. He didn’t want her. She wasn’t worth staying for.

  “I’m sorry, Calla,” he repeat
ed. “This just isn’t my path.”

  She turned around and ran back toward the arena before his words could pierce her any deeper.

  She heard a roar go up from the crowd beyond.

  The opening ceremony was starting.

  Somehow she had to put her heartbreak aside because she had a competition to win.

  31

  CALLA

  “All right girl,” Calla patted Painter as she munched on hay from the hay net Calla had set up in the temporary stall. “It’s almost time.”

  If she kept talking to Painter and focused on the competition, there wasn’t enough space left over to think about Mack. Right?

  So why did her chest feel like a melon carver had been used to scoop out her insides?

  “Calla! Thank Jaysus.”

  “Liam!” Calla felt tears welling up in her eyes as Liam hurried toward her in the narrow path between makeshift stalls.

  She climbed over the fence gate that made up Painter’s stall and flung herself into Liam’s arms.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said urgently, grabbing her hands and looking nervously behind him again.

  “What’s going on? Did Mack talk to you?”

  She knew she should have told them both about the baby sooner. Her heart galloped as she waited for his answer, but he didn’t say a word. Instead he pulled her behind him down the path between the stalls. Other contestants watched them as they went.

  “Liam, what are you—”

  “Just a second. I want to get us somewhere private.”

  “Okay, but Painter and I are on soon. The junior competition will be over in half an hour, so I can’t be gone too long—”

  Liam just kept pulling her along until they were underneath the stands of the arena.

  “Liam,” Calla said, tugging on the hand he was firmly gripping. “Talk to me.”

  It was dim underneath the stands, but she could still see the tension on his face.