Last Second Chance (30 page)

She wasn’t. She knew that. But maybe she could be perfect for him. Be what he needed, because he was exactly what she needed. His words had given her renewed strength each time, strength to climb atop him and take even more. But they’d taken something too.

The fear. The fear of getting hurt, of failing, of disappointing. It was all…gone.

Which meant she had a horse to see. And sooner than later, she’d have to go home and face the people she’d spent her entire adult life avoiding. She’d gotten her answers from Van, now she needed them from someone else.

V
an made his way to the barn. For the past week, they’d stolen every free moment they could. His place, her place, her office, the stables.

The only place he hadn’t had her was his apartment in LA and he was planning to correct that in three weeks when he checked the hell out of this place—an event he was both anticipating and dreading.

He was still picturing the many places in his apartment he could tie her to when he started to walk past her door. She bounded out of it as if she’d been watching for him at the window.

“Come on. I want to show you something.” Her eyes were bright and her entire body seemed to be humming with energy. As if she were made of electricity and someone had thrown the switch. Normally, he’d credit himself for her excitement. But he couldn’t think of anything he’d done lately that would have her so worked up.

“Hm, I think you’ve shown me pretty much everything.”

Rolling her eyes and grabbing his hand and threading her fingers with his, she led him to the barn. Which was how he knew she’d lost it completely. They couldn’t just walk around holding hands. He’d never realized how badly he wanted to hold her hand until it had actually happened. When they reached Shadowdancer’s stall, she let go, leaving his hand empty without her small warm one in it.

She always did pick that damn horse over him.

“You were right. It’s time for me to get back on the horse—literally. We did this for the first time today.”

He had no clue what she meant until she began securing a series of buckles and straps to the black horse. He was happy for her, glad that she was taking his advice. But Christ, he wished it didn’t have to be
that
particular horse. He wished she could’ve been drawn to the grandmotherly one, the slow-mover they called Mother Maybelle.

But she had a type all right. Difficult, moody assholes that weren’t worthy of her.

Her eyes stayed on Shadowdancer as she mounted him.

“Lucky bastard,” Van mumbled under his breath.

He stared at the horse, unsure where to look for any signs that he was going to get pissed off and throw her. He wished the fucker was human so he could threaten him with a painful death should he do anything to hurt her.

Stella wrapped something in her hand and tapped a handle on the saddle. Her foot gently nudged the horse and they began trotting out of the barn.

Van wanted to follow, wanted to call out, “Okay, I get it. That’s enough,” and demand she get the hell down. But when the horse picked up speed and her hair flew behind her as if it had a life of its own, she grinned at him and he couldn’t move. Or breathe. Or think.

She looked alive. She had that blissed out look in her eyes that she normally only got after sex. Somehow this fucking horse made her just as happy as he did. And all it was doing was running in a circle.

He hadn’t made his mind up about Shadowdancer, but anything that made her this happy he’d just have to deal with.

“Yeehaw, cowgirl,” he called out to her, laughing when she pretended to lasso him and reel him in.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jesse Ramirez said from behind him.

Van turned and nodded at the man. Guy seemed okay. Minus the fact that he wore jeans that choked the shit out of his nuts. But hey, to each their own, he figured.

“She’s been dying to ride that damn horse,” Van told him as they shook hands. “Guess she finally broke the poor bastard.”

“Looks like it,” Jesse said side-eyeing him slowly before turning his attention to her. “She must’ve been persistent. Shadowdancer hasn’t had a rider in over a year. Not since the incident.”

The hairs on the back of Van’s neck stood at attention. “The incident? What incident?”

Jesse turned to him, his dark eyes taking in more than Van was comfortable with. He knew his concern for her was over the top and it was showing. It was going to show a whole hell of a lot more when he grabbed the guy and shook him until he told him what he was talking about.

When the man finally spoke, it was a lot slower than Van’s patience could handle.

“He was a racer. A good one. Some might say the best. He broke a shit-ton of records. Was all set to win the Triple Crown.”

Van clenched his fists at his sides. So far nothing too upsetting. But it was coming. He could feel it.

“Then some trainer got a little too aggressive. They were doing practice laps. Shadowdancer threw his rider and stepped on her. Trampled her by accident. Broke a rib, rib punctured a lung. She didn’t make it.”

No.
It was the only word in Van’s head as he pictured the black horse, who’d suddenly developed some demonic qualities before his very eyes, trampling Stella to death. He could see her lying there, lifeless and blue. Just like Val had been.

“He would’ve been put down,” Jesse continued, clearly unaware that Van was two seconds from a full-blown panic attack. “But one of the new investors bought him. Can’t say I’m thrilled to see her on him.”

No. Fuck no.
He’d wrestle that horse to the damn ground with his bare hands if he had to. Put the fucker down himself if he hurt her.

“Stella,” he yelled out, getting her attention. “Okay, cowgirl, that’s enough for tonight.”

Jesse started towards him. “Mr. Walker, it might not be the best idea to—”

“What?” Stella called out to them from across the pasture.

It was then that Van took off in her direction. The horse stomped. Lifted his back leg and stomped. Surely that was a bad sign.

He was a mere few feet away when the horse huffed out a loud breath and shook its head.

Back up, motherfucker.

The message was so clear, Van practically heard him. He put his hands out to show that he didn’t mean any harm.

“Stella, I’d feel a lot better if you just got down now.”

He didn’t have time to check if she’d heard him. Shadowdancer backed up and stamped his hoof again. And then Van’s nightmare came to life right before his eyes. The giant beast reared back and flung Stella off like a fly.

She hit the ground with a grunt and a thud. Jesse Ramirez ran to her, kneeled down at her side. But Van froze. The scene before him blurred. When he blinked, he was standing on a windy riverbank.

Mr. Ransom, can you follow us to the morgue?

The morgue.

We need you to identify the body.

The body.

Val’s laughter, her smile, her eyes, the tiny hands that had held his, the arms that had hugged him—the only affection he’d known growing up—was reduced to a body. A body in the morgue.

And now, the woman he’d fallen in forbidden love with was lying lifeless on the ground before him.

The one thing they had in common was glaringly obvious.

Him.

“G
uys, please relax. I’m fine.” Stella was winded from the fall, and her tailbone and back felt less than stellar. But she really was fine. The audience had been more than Shadowdancer was ready for. She felt guilty for having pushed him too far again.

“You need to see a doctor, Stella Jo. At least let someone here check you out. You hit the ground hard.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Van’s concern. The moment she’d caught her breath and sat up, he’d been wearing much more pain on his face than she was. Sure, they were sleeping together, but until she’d seen him white as a sheet and wringing his hands, she hadn’t known if his feelings for her were more than vagina-deep.

Judging from the way he was pacing around her tiny bungalow, he cared quite a bit. His fawning over her while trying his best not to cross a whole slew of lines in front of Jesse Ramirez kept her from feeling the throbbing tenderness her fall had caused.

“I promise, I’ll just be a little sore. Some ibuprofen and an ice pack and it’ll be like it never happened. I’ve taken much worse.”

Van glared at her. She smiled.

Jesse ran a hand through his hair. “At the very least, we should report it so that if you have issues later—”

“Jesse, please. Please, pretty please, do not report anything.” Stella looked up at him with pleading eyes as Van handed her a baggie full of ice wrapped in a dishtowel.

“I don’t have to include that, um, he was here.” He nodded towards Van.

Stella closed her eyes. “This is all my fault.”

“Accidents happen,” Jesse said quietly.

Stella wondered if he meant the incident with Shadowdancer or her relationship with Van.

“So, um, I’m just going to get some rest. I appreciate the concern, boys. But I’m tougher than I look. You’d be surprised the level of pain I can withstand.”

Van’s breathing seemed to ratchet up a few decibel levels. She was feeling strangely free since getting up from this most recent fall. She’d gotten back on, been thrown, but she’d gotten back up. She was okay. Not in a hospital, not in a wheelchair, and not paralyzed. The fears that had chained and held her—shackled her to the ground, literally—for the past five years fell away.

Van made a grunting sound under his breath, and she forced herself not to smile. He certainly knew she could handle pain. Just like he knew how much she not only endured but also enjoyed everything he dished out.

“Call me if you need anything,” Jesse said as he left. He held the door open, clearly expecting Van to follow.

Stella cursed in her mind. Van should go. It would look strange if he didn’t. And even though Jesse had probably already put most of the pieces together, it still wasn’t smart to draw him a clear picture just in case.

Van moved hesitantly towards the door, undoubtedly realizing the same thing. He had to go.

Right.

But each step he took away from her brought her pain closer to the surface, intensifying the pulsating ache inside. She wanted him to hold her—or at least to hold the ice pack on her tailbone.

“Stay. Please.”

Van’s shoulders tensed and he looked at Jesse.

Jesse sighed. “I’m assuming you mean him.”

“He’s not a dog, Jesse. Speak to him directly.” She remembered Van revealing that he’d been treated like an unwanted pet as a child before he’d screwed her into oblivion.

“I’d tell you both to be careful, but I’m pretty sure neither of you would listen.” With a shake of his head, Jesse left them alone.

“I’m not fucking you, cowgirl. Even if you beg. You just took a serious spill that, frankly, scared the fuck right out of me.”

Stella laughed and then winced as her tailbone pinched at the reminder. “You can go then. What good are you?”

He made a playfully wounded face as he settled onto the couch beside her, taking over ice pack duty.

“You might be surprised. I can be gentle when I need to be.”