Page 61 of Beg for You

I couldn’t let her think she was nothing to me but a means to an end, that she was nothing to me but a way to get back at her father.

“Feel better now?”

My gaze shot to the door.

Bull stood there taking in the destruction around me, heavy brows low. He looked concerned.

I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth. “Don’t need…shit from…you right now.” I growled in frustration over my stuttered speech.

“Not here to give it,” Bull rumbled. “You want to tell me what happened?”

“She found out,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Can you fix it?” he asked.

“Don’t know. But…I need to try.” Grabbing my jacket, I went to stride past Bull.

His hand landed and locked on my shoulder. “You want me to ride with you?”

I shook my head. “I think one Calero showing up at the Deighton ranch…will be more than enough.”

Bull grunted in agreement. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I wasn’t sure I could promise that, but I dipped my chin and headed out to my truck.

I hadn’t been to Springhaven in close to ten years. I’d vowed never to go back.

But thirty minutes later, I was driving along the town’s main street, past beautifully maintained storefronts. And a little farther on, their park and rose gardens, the golf club.

My gut tightened as memories flooded me with every street I passed.

I focused on the road ahead.

Another five minutes of driving and the Deighton ranch came into view, sprawling and solid. It had rustic charm, but also the kind of elegance that said the fucker that owned that house had money, a lot of money.

I glanced across the field nearest the house and my boot stomped down on the brake so fast I probably left half my tires on the road.

I swallowed hard as I watched a pure white horse, sleek and fine boned, gallop hell-for-leather toward the house. Cassy was on the horse’s back, her white-blond hair streaming out behind her. Her slender thighs were tucked in tight, body bent low, spurring the beast on like she was trying to outrun something or someone.

Watching her fly across the field like that, my heart felt like it had stalled in my chest. I mean, I knew she could ride. But fuck me, Cassy could ride. She looked like she was born to sit on a horse.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t take my eyes off her as she galloped toward the smaller but equally impressive guesthouse behind her father’s.

I watched her until she was out of view, then I climbed back in my truck, taking the long curved driveway to get to her. The whole way I repeated over and over in my head what I wanted to tell her. I had to get it right. I had to make her understand.

Fuck, I couldn’t lose her.

Letting my emotions take over would only make talking a whole fucking lot harder. I had to keep it together if I wanted to explain this to her.

She’d been hurt when she found those newspaper clippings, when she found out who I was. Confused. And I’d realized she had no idea what happened after the accident, that she didn’t know what her father did to Dane and Bull.

Cassy sure as hell wasn’t the ice princess she pretended to be. Far from it.

I took the tight tree-lined road that curved around the main house to the back and pulled up outside the guesthouse where I assumed Cassy lived.

I climbed out, gravel crunching under my boots as I headed for the entranceway. I didn’t pause, didn’t give myself time to overthink what I was doing, and banged on the door.

I let the words I wanted to say turn over in my mind again and again. I could not fuck this up. I had one chance to make her listen, to make her understand…