35. Walker
Chapter 35
Walker
I wake up to my phone buzzing like a damn earthquake.
At first, I ignore it. I’ve been ignoring everything lately. But when it won’t stop, when it keeps going like an emergency siren, I groan, grab it, and see about fifty missed calls from Will Maren.
That’s… not good.
I sigh, rubbing my hand down my face as I answer. “Jesus, Will, did someone die?”
Will, already sounding exhausted, sighs. “No, but your anonymity sure as hell did.”
I sit up. “What?”
Will clears his throat. “Uh, listen, so… you’ve gone viral.”
I blink. “Viral.”
“Like crazy viral.”
A pit forms in my stomach. I know what’s coming next. I can feel it. The same way you can feel a storm rolling in before the first thunderclap. I stand up fast, pacing. “Okay, how viral are we talking?”
Will pauses, and the hesitation immediately sends alarm bells through my head. Finally, he coughs awkwardly. “Ten million views.”
I stop pacing. The room goes deathly silent, except for the sound of my own blood roaring in my ears. I open my mouth, close it. Try again. “Where did it come from?”
Silence. A long, guilty silence. Then Will says, “Your kid’s account.”
I freeze. I actually lose the ability to move for a full five seconds. Then, finally, I explode. “I’m sorry—WHAT?!”
Will sighs. “Mack. She posted a video of you and Violet singing. And, uh… let’s just say the internet has feelings about it.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut. “Of course she did.”
Because of course it was Mack. Of course, my teenage daughter, who has zero concept of the words privacy, discretion, or restraint, decided to single-handedly catapult my entire life into a public spectacle.
Will chuckles, and I can hear the smug amusement dripping through the phone. “Yeah, buddy, people are thirsting over you. I got a call from People Magazine. Women are referring to you as ‘Cowboy Daddy’ in the comments.”
I groan. “Stop.”
I sit down and immediately regret my entire existence. “I hate this.”
I’m standing at my cabin’s kitchen counter, trying to drown my sorrows in coffee, when I hear a truck pull up fast outside. “I gotta go, Will.”
Then there’s banging on my door. I sigh, already knowing who it is before I even open it. And sure enough, Ollie and Jack stand on my porch, looking way too smug for my liking.
Jack smirks. “You okay, buddy? You’ve been real quiet lately. ”
Ollie nods. “We heard you were having a moment.”
I scowl. “I don’t need a wellness check.”
Ollie sniffs the air, then nods at the empty whiskey bottle on my table. “Uh-huh. That definitely looks like a man in peak mental health.”
Jack tilts his head. “So, what’s the plan? You just gonna sit here and brood until the internet finds another cowboy to obsess over?”
Ollie grins. “Or are you actually gonna fix things with Violet?”
I sigh, staring at my coffee. “I don’t know.”
Jack crosses his arms. “Well, you’d better figure it out, because people are gonna be showing up to this town looking for their grumpy, guitar-playing Cowboy Daddy.”
The realization hits me like a freight train straight to the chest. I swallow hard, my throat tight. My mind replays every single moment between them—Mack and Violet laughing in my kitchen, Mack stealing her fries at dinner like it’s second nature, the way Mack looks at her when she’s not even aware she’s looking at her.
Violet isn’t just some temporary person in Mack’s life. She’s family. And Mack sees her that way.
Goddamn it.
I run a hand down my face, blinking hard, trying to shove down the emotion clawing its way up my throat. I knew Violet was important to me. I knew she meant more than just some fling, more than just a woman who came into my life and made it better.
But I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Mack does too.
Ollie leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug grin. “Judging by the way you just short-circuited, I’d say that hit home.”
Jack, ever the instigator, smirks. “That’s gotta sting a little, huh? Knowing you completely screwed this up with the woman your daughter already sees as family?”
I scowl. “I don’t need a damn lecture.”
Jack shrugs. “No, but you do need to pull your head out of your ass.”
Ollie nods. “Because let’s be real, Mack’s not gonna forgive you if you let Violet walk away.”
“Walker won’t forgive himself either if he lets Violet walk away. He’s going to regret it,” Jack says.
Mack is already pissed at me. Already looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot on the planet for pushing Violet away. And she’s right. Hell, they’re all right.
I let my past blind me. I let Stella’s betrayal twist something good—something real—into something I was too damn scared to hold onto.
And in the process? I didn’t just break my own heart. I broke Mack’s too. I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “I have to fix this.”
Ollie grins. “Again, no shit.”
Jack claps me on the back. “So, what’s the move, Cowboy Daddy?”
I groan, already regretting every single life decision that led me to this moment. But I know one thing. I’m not letting Violet go without a fight.
I groan. “I hate all of you.”
After way too much prodding, I finally pull up the damn video. And I immediately regret it. Because it’s her. Violet.
The way she sings, her voice smooth and raw and perfect. The way she closes her eyes, completely lost in the music. The way she tilts her face toward me, just barely, as I strum beside her.
And the way I look at her. I swallow hard. Because holy shit. I look at her like she’s my whole damn world. And now? Now I’ve ruined it.
I thought watching this would piss me off. I thought I’d see it and feel betrayedlike she knew what she was doing all along. But that’s not what I feel at all. I feel like I just got kicked in the chest. Because it’s so painfully obvious, I love her. And I let my own fear and insecurities drive her away.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until Will’s voice cuts through my phone. “You watch it?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
He sighs. “And?”
I rub my jaw. “And I need to fix this.”
Silence. Then, “No shit.”
The bar is quiet before opening—just me, a half-drunk cup of coffee, and the low hum of the jukebox playing something old and familiar. Mack is settled in the back with snacks and working on her homework. I’ve been trying to find some sort of normalcy now that everything has gone to shit.
I need silence andthe space to think to figure out how the hell I’m going to fix what I broke with Violet.
But, of course, the universe isn’t that kind. Because the door swings open, I don’t have to look up to know who it is. I feel her presence before I see her. My skin crawls, and my stomach tightens.
Stella.
Waltzing in like she owns the place. Like she’s got some goddamn right to be here. "I'm here to discuss something with you."
I sigh, dragging my hand down my face. “What do you want? "
She smirks, sliding onto a barstool like she’s settling in for a friendly chat. “You always were a talented singer, Asher. You and Violet… well, I gotta admit, you're an odd pairing.”
I clench my jaw. “Cut the shit. What do you want?”
She leans forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “I want to talk to her.”
I freeze. “To who?”
Stella tilts her head, eyes narrowing. “Mack. To remind her who her real mother is.”
My stomach turns cold. “Come again?”
She exhales, like she’s bored of this conversation. “She’s my daughter, Walker. Not Violet’s. Violet has no right to try to take over my family.”
I let out a sharp laugh. A humorless, deadly sound. “That’s what you’re gonna say?” I shake my head. “Yeah, you’re not talking to my kid to say that.”
Stella’s jaw tightens. “You can’t keep her from me. She’s my kid, too.”
I lean forward, planting both hands on the bar, my voice dropping. “Yeah, actually? I can. She’s not legally your kid.” She blinks, but I don’t stop.“You don’t have rights to her, remember? You signed them away and walked away from her.”
She flinches, just barely, but it’s there. Good. I hope the words sting. I hope they sink in deep and stay there.
She opens her mouth, probably to feed me some more bullshit, but I don’t let her. I step around the bar, closing the space between us, my voice turning cold.
“You left her alone in that hospital, Stella. Alone.”
Her brows furrow. “The nurses were with her.” She says it so matter-of-factly like it makes all the difference. Like that’s the same thing. Like it wasn’t abandonment.
My fists clench at my sides, my breath sharp. “That is my child,” I growl. “You don’t leave your child, Stella. ”
She finally looks uneasy, like she’s realizing she stepped into something bigger than she was ready for. Like she finally understands that whatever power she used to have over me?
It’s gone.
And I’ll be damned if I let her get anywhere near Mack again.
I hear my daughter behind me and close my eyes for a moment. The moment Mack steps into the room, everything shifts. I know my kid. I know the way she moves, the way she reads a situation before stepping in. She’s been standing back there in the kitchen, watching, taking everything in like she always does. My kid misses nothing.
I was just hoping she wouldn't come out before I could get Stella out of here.
But now? Now, she’s ready.
Mack steps forward, her boots solid against the bar floor, arms crossed, chin lifted, looking so much like me it almost knocks the breath from my chest.
She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t hesitate. She just zeroes in on Stella like a goddamn sniper and fires off the first shot. “What do you have to say to me?”
Stella straightens, smoothing her hands down the front of her coat as she can somehow control this moment. Like she’s the one in charge here. She isn’t. She opens her mouth, her voice slipping into that honeyed, condescending tone I remember all too well.
“My beautiful daughter,” she starts, like she knows her. Like she has the right to talk to her like that. “I know this must be very confusing for you…”
Mack snorts. I swear to God, she snorts.
Then she holds up a hand and cuts her off. “Let me stop you right there.”
Stella blinks, clearly thrown.
Mack steps in closer, her voice calm, her posture strong. “You are a DNA donor. Nothing more.”
My chest tightens. She says it so clearly, so effortlessly. Like she’s had this speech ready for years.
Stella flinches, but Mack doesn’t give her a chance to recover.
She cocks her head, her eyes fierce, and she lays it all out. “That man right there?” She points at me without even looking at me. “That’s my dad.”
I stop breathing.
Mack keeps going, her voice steady. “In elementary school, he braided my hair every day before school. Drove me to soccer and all of my camps. He never missed anything. Bought me pads when I got my period and explained everything to me so I wouldn’t freak out. He held me when I had bad dreams.” She pauses. “And some of them? Some of them were even about you.”
Stella’s mouth parts before her lips press into a thin line.
Mack doesn’t blink. “He has done everything for me.” She takes another step forward, her voice turning sharp, deliberate, unwavering. “You? You have done nothing.”
The silence that follows is so thick it's alarming. My stomach clenches because this is getting serious fast.
Stella shifts and swallows, but she has nothing to say for the first time in her life. This is a narrative she can't control or put a spin on.
I take a slow, measured step forward, my eyes locked on Stella’s. “She has said her piece.” My voice is low, firm, and final. “Now, here’s mine.”
She looks up at me, something tight in her expression like she knows what’s coming next.
“You need to leave.” I take another step, voice turning to gravel and steel. “Not just my bar.” Another. “But this town. ”
I tilt my head, my eyes dark, and I say it slowly. “Never come back.”
Silence.
Stella swallows, her jaw tightening. For a second, I think she might try to argue.
But then? She does the only thing she’s ever been good at.
She turns. And she walks out the door.
The second it swings shut behind her, Mack takes a deep breath, shaking her arms like she just fought a war.
I turn to her, my throat tight, my heart swelling with something I can’t even put into words. I step forward. “Honey.”
She meets my eyes, and then she’s in my arms before I can even say another word.
And for the first time in days, I feel like I can breathe again. I'm her safe space. Nothing will ever change that.