CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Maisie
The ride back to Kansas is agonizingly long, maybe because I’m awake for this journey. A lethal combination of anger and pride fuels me on the thirteen-hour trip.
Grace has, as she explained it, “put a battery in my back,” and I’m determined to fight for my Pa’s farm. She convinced me there was no use in beating myself up about deserting the land and all that it represents. What’s important is that I do my best to try and win it back now.
Plus, I can’t deny my traitorous heart. There’s excitement in my gut, a swell of emotion that overtakes me whenever I think of my husband. Because maybe Tyler and I can work it out some way. Maybe we can make things happen, somehow or other.
But I shake my head fiercely, disgusted. He’s the enemy! scolds the voice in my head. You can’t work with a liar.
Besides, who am I kidding? The alpha’s long gone, and it was all a charade anyways. He was only using me and now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s no use in pretending any longer.
When the bus finally pulls into the station my stomach fills with butterflies as anxiety pumps through my frame. The terminal looks so much different from this perspective, and a part of me just wants to turn around and go back to Colorado, avoiding my problems again.
But I can’t.
I’ve come so far.
It wouldn’t be right.
So steeling myself, I force my feet forward
There’s the taxi stand, and like a robot, I get in, swinging my bag in the back.
It’s incredibly strange riding down the dirt road that leads to my farm in a hired car, but that’s nothing compared to the nerves running through spine. I’ve accepted that there are only one of two options – either the Morgan brothers have already razed the farm, or the place hasn’t been touched since I left.
While neither are great options, I’m hopeful that I’m left with the latter, and quietly vow to spend the rest of my life fixing the farm, if possible.
But as we veer into the drive, my eyes go wide, a gasp escaping my throat.
“Is everything okay?” the driver asks curiously, throwing me a look over the back seat.
I can’t answer, emotions choking my windpipe closed.
“Here,” comes my hoarse whisper before shoving a twenty dollar bill in his hand and grabbing my bags.
Because my childhood home’s there, sure. But it’s more than that. The Double H has been transformed into a fully-functioning ranch, shiny and sturdy. What used to be the broken steps leading to the front door are mended, leading to a wooden deck complete with a bench swing at the edge of the porch. The siding around the house has been replaced and painted a fresh beige color. Even the creaky front door has been removed, and now a red wooden one stands in its place, slightly open with a black screen.
But as I approach, the porch light flickers on, making my eyes blink in the sudden glare.
And I feel him, I literally feel the air shiver and shift even before he appears, that broad silhouette intimidating. My heart drops into my stomach as I peer upwards, and as Tyler’s face becomes more visible, it’s clear that the alpha’s glowering. Oh yeah, that handsome face is pulled into a mask of rage, blue eyes burning like the coldest ice.
Oh god, oh god. He hates me and wants me gone. Maybe Tyler was promised my farmhouse for closing the deal and he considers this his home now. Maybe this is squarely his turf, and I’m the intruder. Instinctively, my hand falls to the small bump of my belly.
The rancher’s expression becomes unreadable, a myriad of expressions crossing that handsome face. But then he grunts.
“You’re pregnant,” are the harsh words.
“I am,” I confirm softly, still rubbing my belly. “The baby’s yours, Tyler.”
And before I know it, the big man’s on me in an instant, swinging me into his arms, limbs flying, cradling my huge form against that broad chest. What in the world?
“Tyler, stop, stop!” I beat against the wall of muscle. He ignores my flailing fists, and grimly stalks up the stairs, before depositing me gently on the couch.
I sit up, smoothing my hair, trying to look dignified even while stealing a look at all he’s done. The interior looks familiar, just upgraded; everything is shiny and bright, clean as a whistle.
But Tyler doesn’t care about the house.
“What’s going on?” is his enraged growl, eyes piercing my soul. “Where the fuck have you been?”
I take a deep breath.
“Well, I’m pregnant, as you can see,” I say slowly, willing my courage to stay. “But we don’t need anything from you. This baby will be just fine. All I ask is that you help us through the pregnancy. It’s been hard to work long hours while I’m big, but I will. I will if that’s what it takes,” I say bravely, chin in the air.
A pause hangs in the air, those blue eyes boring into mine.
“You’ve been working while carrying my child?” he spits finally, gesturing furiously with those big hands. My pussy shivers, remembering where those hands have been, but I force myself to mentally repeat the mantra that he’s the enemy.
I take another deep breath.
“Yes. I had to make a living for myself, and for your child, Tyler, so I worked. But you don’t need to worry. I’m going to take care of this baby on my own. We won’t need your money or anything else,” come my brave words.
Oh god, I’m supposed to be demanding my farm back, I’m supposed to be making a play for the Double H. But instead, I’m just a wilting wallflower, and Tyler knows it, pressing his advantage.
“That’s my baby, Maisie. I’m going to be a father whether you like it or not,” he growls and I feel myself losing control.
“No,” I say tightly. “This child is mine.” My hands rub the bump reassuringly, possessive and maternal.
But Tyler won’t be put off.
“Maisie, I swear to God, if you don’t stop …” his words trail off, eyes boring into mine.
“Then what?” I prod, wound tight, beginning to unravel. “Then what? What are you gonna do?”
“Maisie,” he warns again while pacing the living room like a caged animal, running his fingers through his hair.
But I’m on a roll, my emotions pouring out now.
“I gave you everything, Tyler. Everything I had. I was so open and giving, and you were a fucking lie. That’s all it was; a fucking lie. But my baby was made in love, even if it was my love alone. You had your chance to be real with me and you chose to betray everything we built. So no, you will not have a role in this child’s life,” I hiss emphatically. “No child deserves a liar for a father.”
The words sting, making him jerk back, big body tense. But Tyler gives as good as he gets.
“Are you serious? You up and left me without even saying goodbye. I haven’t heard from you in months! Do you know what it’s been like here? Waiting for you to come back, with no idea where you were? Do you know how fucking awful it’s been?”
His last sentence comes out in a fury, the pain and rage palpable, but I can’t hear it, I’m so angry.
“So what?” is my challenge. “Waiting is nothing compared to your betrayal, big boy. Just in case you forgot, you pumped our life full of lies. You did that, not me.”
And Tyler explodes then.
“BUT YOU’RE MY FUCKING WIFE!” he rages and I swear the entire house rattles from the fury in his voice. My stomach muscles clench at his possessiveness, curling in on itself. But what the hell does he mean, I’m his wife? Why does that justify anything?
Riding the wave of courage, I go for the jugular then.
“There’s no reason to keep that up,” are my cold words. “I get it now. You wanted my land so you pretended to care about me. You’re a masterful businessman,” I mock him while rubbing my belly. “Fucking girls left and right to make more money. What else have you done?” I ask nastily. “Have you fucked truckloads of prostitutes, hoping to turn a buck? Gotten horny with a bunch of working girls to start a gold rush?”
And the fury in his eyes sears me then, the air around that big frame literally vibrating with anger.
“Don’t. Start,” come the words, low and harsh, trembling with suppressed rage.
But I’m on a roll, and let it fly again.
“You’ll never touch my pussy again, Tyler,” come the harsh words. “This pussy and ass are off-limits to you. Forever,” I spit, and with that the cowboy springs into action. I cower in my corner, thinking for a moment that he’s gonna hit me. But instead, the big male seethes, pinning me with a murderous gaze before swinging silently on his heel and stalking out of the house, screen door banging loudly.
Suddenly, the room is too small, the air warm and stuffy, and I can’t breathe. Leaning forwards, I try to put my head down between my knees, gasping for oxygen. Because before, I thought my worst nightmare had come true, with the lies, betrayals, and hopeless situation.
But for some reason, this is worse. This is Tyler and me fighting, exchanging verbal blows, drawing blood and I can’t take it. It hurts so bad, and I hate myself as much as I hate him. Why won’t it stop? Why can’t I stop? My soul is crushed, heart in smithereens, and for the first time in my life, I wish I was dead.