Page 72 of Tempted By the Broken Cowboy
Of course he followed me.
The heavy knock comes a beat later, sharp and insistent. Before anyone can stop him, the door swings open and there he is, filling the doorway with broad shoulders and a storm-dark gaze. He looks wild and desperate, chest heaving as though he’s sprinted all the way here.
“Quinn.” His voice cracks on my name.
I stiffen, every nerve in my body lighting up at the sight of him, but I can’t let myself melt. Not here. Not now.
“You need to leave,” I bite out, clutching my arms tighter around myself.
He shakes his head immediately, taking a step inside despite the weight of my father’s glare. “No. I’m not leaving you here. Come home with me and we’ll figure it out, together.”
Home? Together? Those words slice me in half. My chest aches, but the ache twists into rage. Hot, blinding rage.
“Don’t you dare say that!” I snap, the tears I’ve been choking back finally spilling over. “You don’t get to ruin my life and then act like we’re in this together!”
Beck freezes, as if I’ve slapped him. His mouth opens, then closes, his hands flexing uselessly at his sides. “Quinn—“
“No!” The word tears out of me, raw and broken. “You—God, you—“ I choke on the sob clawing up my throat. “You’ve ruined everything I’ve worked for. Everything I planned. Do you even get that?”
He looks gutted, his face crumpling, but I can’t stop. The words pour out, sharp as glass, too sharp to take back.
“I should’ve known better than to think you’d be anything other than a disaster! You’ve dragged me down with you, Beck. And now I’m stuck with a future I never wanted.”
He staggers back a half-step, as if each word hits him square in the chest. His voice is hoarse when he whispers, “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” My laugh is jagged, bitter. “Life stopped being fair the moment I met you.”
For a beat, silence roars between us. His eyes search mine, begging me to take it back, begging me to be the Quinn who held his hand in the dark, who believed in him when no one else did. But I can’t. I don’t know how.
Not when the truth is growing inside me like a ticking clock I can’t rewind.
Beck takes another step forward, his voice breaking. “Quinn, please. Don’t shut me out like this. I love you. You know I do.”
His words cut deeper than they should. They should be a balm, but instead, they ignite the fire already raging inside me. My chest tightens, my throat burns, and before I can stop myself, the venom spills out.
“Stop saying that!” I scream, my hands trembling as I point at him. “Stop pretending like love is enough. Love doesn’t fix the fact that I’m pregnant. Love doesn’t give me back my future. Love doesn’t change the fact that you’ve ruined me!”
Beck flinches as if I’ve driven a knife into him. His eyes shine, hurt shimmering just beneath the surface, but still, he doesn’t back away. He’s stubborn like that, always has been.
“I didn’t ruin you, Quinn. I—“
“You did!” My voice cracks, raw and shaking. “You’re poison, Beck. You’ve been poison from the moment I let you in. I should’ve stayed away. I should’ve listened to everyone who warned me about you.”
His jaw tightens, and for the first time, he looks as if he might break. His lips part as if to argue, but the sound of metal clicking behind me makes the air shift.
“All right, that’s enough!”
My father’s voice booms, low and dangerous, and I don’t need to turn to know what’s in his hands. The heavy scrape of a shotgun barrel being cocked is unmistakable.
Beck’s eyes dart past me, and his entire body stiffens.
“Sir—“ he starts, but my father cuts him off.
“You heard my daughter. She doesn’t want you here. Now, get the hell off my property before I blow your head off.”
Beck looks at me one last time, his expression a mixture of devastation and defiance. His voice is quiet, almost strangled. “You don’t mean that, Quinn. Not really.”
And God help me, he’s right. But I can’t admit it. Not with my father behind me, not with my family watching.
