Page 83 of Untamed

Looks like I’ll have to deal with Brandon on my own.

Chapter Fifty

COLTER

The crowd goes wild as I step up to the podium for the prize giving at The Timber Springs Rodeo in South Dakota. From here, it’s on to Texas, then Florida, then Las Vegas where the finals, which I’m hoping to qualify for, will be held.

Another win, another buckle to add to my growing collection on this tour, but I’m not taking it for granted. I know how lucky I am to be standing here, and honestly it feels more like a twist of fate than anything else. If Garrett hadn’t fucked up, I wouldn’t even be here. Simple as that.

It’s going better than I expected, with win after win. I know the other competitors didn’t take me seriously at first, but I’ve shown them now. Colter Grady isn’t someone they can afford to underestimate. I’m back and I’m going to show them just how fucking good I am. That coveted title and the large sum of prize money in Las Vegas are as good as mine. I just need to qualify in Texas.

I go through the motions of my least favorite part of all this—accepting my buckle, shaking sponsors’ hands and taking photos—but as I make my quick exit out of the arena, I instantly wish I hadn’t.

Women claw at me, desperate for my attention in any way they can get it. I keep my head forward, trying to make it to my truck without one of them actually managing to shove their hand down the front of my jeans. Its blatant sexual harassment and completely unnecessary, but it comes with the territory. Years ago, I would’ve enjoyed their attention, but not anymore. Now, it disgusts me. Shrugging them off, I continue on my way, tuning out their purring voices. I’m not about that life anymore. The only woman I want is miles away, unaware of how I really feel about her.

Striding up to the Oakridge Ranch horse rig, I find Jeff and Betsy, two of the ranch hands assigned to this tour with me, already ready and waiting to head to our next destination. Technically, Jeff’s the driver and Betsy’s the groom, but both of them help however they can. It also means I get to drive my own truck, offering me a little freedom while I’m on the road.

“All set?” I ask.

“Yep,” Jeff grunts. “We’re heading out. It’s gonna be a good sixteen-hour drive. With the stops we need to make to rest the horses, we won’t get to Texas for at least two days.”

I nod, glancing at the rig. “I’ll follow you out. You have the itinerary for the stops, right?”

“Betsy’s got it,” he confirms, eyeing me with a slight grin. “You don’t have to follow us. Go ahead and head on without us and get settled. We’ll take care of the horses.”

I scrub a hand across my mouth, considering his offer. It sounds tempting, especially with the chance to settle in at a motel. I might even call Mila. See how things are back in Montana. That’s if she even wants to talk to me.

“Alright. I’ll do that. But make sure to call if anything goes wrong,” I tell him.

Jeff waves me off. “Yeah, yeah. See you in Texas, cowboy.”

Without another word, he helps Betsy into the truck and climbs in after her.

I turn toward my vehicle, only to stop short when I see a figure standing next to it. Annabeth steps out of the shadows, a seductive grin on her face as she closes the distance between us. So much for thinking, I would manage to slip away without seeing her this weekend.

“What do you want, Annabeth?” I sigh, the weariness creeping in.

Her smile widens, and she runs one of her ridiculously long talons up my chest. I grab her hand, shoving her touch away. Her face falls for a moment, hurt flashing in her eyes before it quickly morphs into anger. “You think you’re better than me now, just because you’re fucking some rich little daddy’s girl?”

My jaw tics, a rush of anger heating my veins. “Go away, Annabeth. I can smell the liquor from here. You’re embarrassing yourself.” I step around her, trying to move to my truck.

She cackles, her body swaying unsteadily as she spins. “It wasn’t that long ago that you were a drunk, Colter. All battered and broken, with no future. Hell, you even ended up in jail for beating a man in your drunken rage. Does your little whore know that you’re a felon?” Her words hit their intended target, and I feel my body stiffen, even though I know they aren’t lies. I hate that she’s right. “But that’s not all, is it?” she continues, and I brace myself for what I know will come next. “Not only are you a drunk ex-con, but a murderer.” My eyes squeeze shut at her words, trying to block out the pain. “It’s because of you we lost our baby.” She screams in my face, the venom in her voice cutting deep.

My eyes snap open, locking onto Annabeth. Rivulets of tears fall down her face, her chest heaving with the force of her outburst. Her fists ball and she pounds them against my chest,hitting me as if I deserve it. And maybe I do. But I’m not the only one responsible for the mistakes we made.

It’s been a long time since I thought about that day. Annabeth crying, me drunk out of my mind. Though I would never, and have never, been physically abusive toward her—or any woman—the anger I felt at losing my career made me hate the world and everyone in it. I shut Annabeth out and lost myself in drink and drugs. The stress of dealing with me, along with her own addictions, led her to lose a baby we barely knew she was even carrying. Even though I don’t often let myself dwell on it, I shoulder the blame of that loss every single day.

But Annabeth putting it all on me is wrong. She needs to accept some responsibility for what happened. Looking at her now, I know there will be no reasoning with her. She is drunk and upset. I am the last person she wants to listen to. I just wish she would clean up her act for her own sake. I’m no angel, but at least I took the steps to better myself after everything that happened.

I gently grab her wrists, holding her back. “You know as well as I do, we were both to blame, Annabeth.”

Her eyes are glassy as she stares at me. “I-I-I,” she stutters before squirming out of my hold and throwing herself at my chest. Her arms wrap around my waist in a death grip, and for a minute, I allow myself to comfort her, before I try to untangle her from me. As much as she wishes otherwise, it’s not my place to hold her anymore. A part of me feels guilty, but I have Mila’s feelings to think about. How would she feel if she saw this?

I shift, unlocking her hold on me and stepping away, putting space between us. Her face darkens with rage once more, and I’m done. Turning, I head for my truck. I grab the door handle, pulling it open, and am ready to climb in when Annabeth speaks again.

“I know your relationship is a secret, Colter,” she says, the emotion long gone and replaced with familiar venom. “I also know that you’ll lose everything if her dad finds out. Is she worth the risk, when you’ve worked so hard to rebuild your life?”

I glance over my shoulder, locking eyes with her. “She’s worth everything, Annabeth.” And in that moment, I realize how true it is. I’ve been selfish with Mila. Taking everything she gives me but not giving her anything in return. That changes now. “I’ve moved on, its time you do the same.”

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