MACK
“You’re gonna lose a few fingers with that one,” Mack said, leaning over the fence and watching Liam try to feed an apple to the mare he’d been assigned.
Liam barely had a second to shoot a glare his way before yanking away when the spirited mare took a snap at him.
“Whoa, girl!” Liam said, managing to dance out of the way just before the giant horse teeth chomped down on his hand.
Mack didn’t hide his laugh. Well, this was going to be more fun than he’d thought.
He’d only signed on in the first place because the day in day out grind of the ranch hadn’t been doing the trick anymore. He thought routine would be good. Like he could just lose himself in his work and not think about shit.
Problem was, the opposite had happened. The more rote daily life on the ranch got, the more space his mind had to linger back in the past. He’d only done an eight-year stretch but sometimes he thought it might as well have been a life sentence. Part of him would always be stuck in that six by eight cell.
The restlessness got worse and worse till he actually thought about moving on. It’d be years before he could do what needed getting done—the fucker who needed dead was still in lock up and would be for four more years.
He thought about going to work on one of those ocean rigs. He’d heard it was grueling work that left a man so spent at the end of the day you’d fall asleep standing up.
Then, before he could decide one way or the other, Xavier mentioned the mustang makeover competition. Said he hoped some of them would go for it.
Liam immediately held up his hand. And Mack thought, what the hell, maybe it was just the distraction he needed. And if he could show up that privileged little Irish prick while doing it, all the better.
They’d gotten into Denver a little after two o’clock and headed straight to the Bureau of Land Management facility.
It had been organized chaos with the trainers from all around the country lining up to see what mustang they’d been assigned. Once given a mustang, the trainer then either loaded them up and headed home if they lived close. If they didn’t, then the horse stayed in the holding pens until the next morning.
Xavier didn’t like them making the six-hour drive there and back home on the same day. It looked like most folks felt the same from all the horses still in the holding pens. The hundred days to train the mustangs started tomorrow.
Mack had been assigned a mid-sized gelding. The horse was jumpy as any wild horse would be, but Mack felt good about him—he was certainly calmer than some of the ones he’d walked past. Including the she-devil Liam had landed.
Liam glared at him after jumping over the fence of the pen. “Where’s yours?”
“Torpedo’s over there.” He pointed to the small cluster of brown horses hovering near the hay trough. “With the white patch between his eyes. Sweetest little gelding you ever saw.”
“Poor fecker doesn’t realize he got stuck with a gammy mog from the wrong side of the tracks,” Liam shot back. “Frankly I’m shocked anyone would put a living creature in the hands of an ex-con who knows more about carving shivs than taking care of horses.”
Mack’s blood went hot. “You think you’re going to do any better? Growing up with that silver spoon up your ass?”
“Better a silver spoon than all the cock I’m sure you took while you were a prison bitch.”
Mack’s blood lit on fucking fire.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Mack got toe to toe with the Irish bastard. “And if you’re so confident, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? A hundred bucks says my mustang goes for more green than yours at auction.”
Liam’s eyes flashed and he stepped into Mack’s chest, knocking him backward several steps. “You’re on, you ruddy bastard. But let’s make it interesting. One grand says my mustang kicks your’s arse come September.”
“Does it make you feel like a big man being able to flash your cash around like that?” Mack leaned in. “Makes it a little obvious you’re overcompensating. But hey, we can’t all be born stallions. I wouldn’t worry, though.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. “I’m sure your bank account is enough to blind most women to whatever you may be…” He glanced down toward Liam’s belt. “Otherwise lacking.”
Liam’s jaw went rigid and Mack let the edge of his lip curl up.
“I don’t mind being a thousand bucks richer. You’ve got a deal.” He reached out for a shake and Liam gripped his hand with a bone-crushing force.
Mack kept grinning and squeezed back just as hard. Liam thought he could intimidate him? He’d eaten little shits like this for dinner back in lock-up. He was an enforcer for one of the nastiest bastards on the inside. You didn’t get that far up the food-chain without being one ruthless motherfucker.
Couldn’t deny who he was even if he didn’t like to think about that period in his life—he hadn’t been sure for a while he still had a soul after all the shit he’d done. Wasn’t till he started working with the horses at Xavier’s that he actually found a ray of hope he might still be more man than monster.
Then he shut that shit down.
He needed the monster for the plans he had.
But this rich Mick wouldn’t know a thing about making the hard choices in life or what kind of man it took to come out the other side. Mack had known people like Liam before.
When Mack had gotten a full ride scholarship to Harvard, he’d dated a couple rich kids who’d never known a hard day’s work in their life. Blaire was old money on her mom’s side and her dad was a famous hot-shot lawyer. When she paid attention to Mack, he thought it proved he wasn’t just white trash from Jersey. That he could move up in the world. Be more than the nothing he’d been born. He didn’t see it for what it was even after Blaire pulled him into those fucked up games with her boyfriend.
Wasn’t until shit hit the fan and he got arrested that he realized the only reason they’d ever looked his way was because they got a thrill out of fucking who they considered to be ‘the help.’
The same way Liam looked at Calla.
Mack’s jaw hardened. “While we’re on the topic of shit you oughta know better than to step in,” Mack continued, voice hard, “back off Calla. She doesn’t need some worthless user like you fucking her over.”
“Worthl—?” Liam’s nostril’s flared. “She certainly deserves better than you. You were born trash and you’ll die trash. How long till you end back up in prison? They got a bed still nice and warm with your name on it?”
“You wanna say that ag—?”
“What’s going on here?” Xavier’s booming voice made Mack’s head jerk to the right.
Shit, the boss was heading toward them and he didn’t look happy. Mack stepped back from where he’d been in Liam’s face.
“Kitchen duty for a month still not enough to teach you two to play nice?” Xavier stopped between them, glaring at one and then the other. “I’m not going to be embarrassed by two of my men acting like jackasses, am I?”
“No, boss,” Liam said, looking at the floor. Mack liked that. Cowed was a good look on him.
“Mackenzie?” Xavier growled and Mack shifted his gaze away from Liam.
“Sorry.” Mack respected Xavier. The man had given him a job even knowing he’d done hard time. It was a rare second chance in a world that didn’t often give them. “No problems here.”
“Good,” Xavier bit out. “Better not be.” With one more glare in both their directions, he turned and kept on his way.
As soon as he was out of ear shot, Liam just had to open his mouth again. “How about we let Calla decide who’s the better man?”
Mack gritted his teeth, shaking his head as he turned to follow Xavier. The only way this wasn’t going to end with his fist in Liam’s face was if he left now. “You stay away from her. Stay away from me too if you know what’s good for you.”
“Sounds to me like someone’s afraid he won’t measure up.”
This mother fucker was just begging for it, wasn’t he? Calla was Mack’s kind of people. He wouldn’t let Liam fuck with her or fuck her over. Mack turned back to Liam and put his finger right in his face. “I don’t play games with good women. But I can guaran-goddammed-tee you that if she’s heading back to anyone’s hotel room tonight, it’ll be mine.”
Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. If he really had Calla’s interests at heart, he’d forget he ever met her. He might be a better choice than Liam, but not by much. Besides, Mack wasn’t in the market. Calla didn’t need him spreading his shit on her. The days of thinking he could change the cards he’d been dealt were long gone.
Liam grinned, obviously happy to be getting under Mack’s skin. “We’ll just see about that.”
This time Mack turned and didn’t look back. He had to get out of here before he did something he’d regret. Liam O’Neill would get what was coming to him eventually, and if there was any justice in the goddamned universe, Mack would be there to see it.