“Hmm. Well, that’s too bad. Listen, I need to talk to you about the Carson-Maxwell deal. They’re not quite ready to move, but I think if I gave them more numbers, worked some projections maybe three additional years out, they’d come on board.”
“I don’t know.” Stephen blinked at the sudden subject change. “Give me a couple of days to look into it.”
“I’m on it and it needs to be done now.”
“I said I’d look into it,” he countered with more heat than he’d meant. Fuck. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on right now.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
Frustrated, he tapped the keyboard, suddenly remembering another meeting he needed to cancel. He hammered out an email for Dee before realizing Dave was still standing there. And staring at him. “Was there something else?”
“Was there something else?” Dave’s face twisted. “Was there something else? I’m your partner, not your fucking assistant that you dismiss when you’re busy.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“The hell you didn’t.”
Stephen leveled a gaze at Dave, studied him. There was something in his eyes, something maybe he’d seen just a flash of before, but now it burned hot and steady. “You have something to say?”
“Are you about to blow a major deal because you’ve got a lot going on?”
“What the hell is your problem? Is it still about Hannah’s property? I told you no on that because—”
“You told me no? Really?” Dave’s laugh held no amusement. “You told me no like I’m a fucking five-year-old? Who do you think kept this place going while your head was buried in a bottle?”
Okay. Stephen rubbed at his forehead. So that’s where they were going. “And I owe you.”
“You more than owe me. You were useless to this company! Then when you finally get your shit together you come back in here like you own the place.”
“That’s because I do,” he said clearly, making sure there was no misunderstanding.
“You bastard. You’re going to throw that in my face?”
“I wasn’t, no.” Stephen gave him a cool stare. “Not until you brought it up.”
Dave’s voice rose and he pointed at himself. “I helped build this as much as you did!”
Not true and Dave knew it, which made his outburst even more absurd. But Dave had always been after power, fed off it. It had served Trace Development well, but he’d been foolish to think a man like that wouldn’t turn around at some point. Take a bite out of the hand that fed him. “So what? You want a raise?” Not that he’d ever get it. He hadn’t built a Fortune 500 company by rewarding employee dissonance. Not even from his second-in-charge.
“I busted my ass,” Dave went on. “Covered yours. But you always come out on top, don’t you? Women line up to fuck you. Men shit themselves to shake your hand.” Dave paced around the room before coming back to Stephen’s desk. “How do you think your little cowgirl would like to know what you’re really like, who you really are? I mean her of all people.”
Stephen stood, struggling for control at Dave’s mention of Hannah.
“Yeah, I did a little research. Too bad about your girl. Such a tragedy.” Dave tsked like someone had dropped an ice cream. “You do seem to be a magnet for tortured women.”
Dave casually crossed to the bar. “I wonder how comfortable she’d be around you if she knew the truth. After all she’s been through.”
“What truth is that?” Something inside him twisted painfully and a heavy feeling settled in his gut, because he knew.
“That you’re a sick fuck. That you’ll never get over losing the one woman you’ll ever love. That you’d rather maim and torture her killers than have her back.” Dave said it all calmly, gladly.
There’d been a few times he hadn’t drunk alone, but with Dave. And a few times he’d let his mind spill open, let all his thoughts and perversions spill out.
And yes. He’d said all that. Even meant it in that moment. “And you’d tell her?”
Dave gave a sick laugh. “Nah, what the fuck do I care.”
When Stephen said nothing, Dave smiled, gave him some kind of mock salute, and left.
Stephen let out a heavy breath. How could he explain to Hannah that the hatred that boiled inside was a living, breathing thing? Something that had grown until it had a life of its own because he hadn’t wanted to face the loss?
Because that’s what it came down to. He’d chosen anger instead of grief until it hadn’t been a choice anymore. How could he tell her all of that and in the same breath tell her he loved her?
He wasn’t the man she needed. Worse, he was afraid he was exactly the man she didn’t need.
And he was terrified that when she found out the truth, she would agree.
Chapter 43
The sounds and scents that would normally comfort Hannah were gone, replaced with seared wood and wet ash. The rain that had been a blessing left a soggy, smoky mess. The acrid odor of the melted plastic barrels that once held sweet feed added another layer. Everything felt sad and ruined.
Her cell rang again and she glanced at the unknown number. She’d been on the phone all morning. Answering calls. Making calls. Reporters looking for the how and the why, owners wanting arrangements to retrieve their horses. Roma had already been picked up. Lady was scheduled for later today. Everything was falling apart.