The Bomb
Alistair
A day later
Horseback riding was my therapy. Whenever life closed in, I found my escape in Lady Jane, a palomino my parents gave me back in my teens.
She was well past her prime now, but still my favorite on the ranch.
Age had slowed her stride, yet she carried herself with the same quiet pride, ears pricked, as if daring the world to underestimate her.
She always tried to give me that extra mile, even at a gentle pace.
Nothing calmed me more than riding, the wind on my face, and the wide-open land stretching out like it belonged only to me.
Away from the city, away from people. Horses didn’t want anything back.
They gave empathy without judgment, something I figured out as a teenager.
Back then, I wore the label—ADHD kid—and money didn’t protect me.
Not from a pack of spoiled assholes who made sport out of kicking the vulnerable in high school.
I only came back to my childhood home when work let me breathe, and this afternoon was one of those rare times. Out here with Lady Jane, the city felt a world away. The sun warmed my skin, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the quiet, into her steady rhythm.
Mom pulled me into a tight hug the next day when I showed up with Damian after work.
I’d come home to unwind, maybe sneak in another ride on Lady Jane.
We sat on the patio flipping through old photos until she sent my son off to “help Grandpa with the woodwork.” Translation: clear the deck so she could grill me about my personal life.
“How are you, son?” she asked.
“Work’s keeping me busy. We signed another contract for a drilling campaign near the Gulf of Mexico.”
“Well done,” she remarked with a nod. She readjusted her hat, which nearly blew off in the gentle fall breeze.
“I’ll be in Dubai and London for a few weeks,” I said. “Damian’s glad he can stay with you.”
Mom squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “He’s my grandson, and I don’t trust his mother.”
I patted her arm assuredly. “I’m fighting for full custody, but it’s gonna take a while.”
“You’d better have the best lawyer in town because of that woman...” Mom’s voice trailed off as she shook her head.
“I’m wiser.”
“I never agreed with your father pushing you to marry Saira. Sure, he and Darius were business partners, but I always suspected Darius had mafia ties before he died. And Saira? She’s worse than him. Smarter. Colder. Absolutely heartless.”
“I know, Mom. I know. That’s why I took over The Church from Saira, remember?”
Mom’s eyes glinted cheerfully. “You have a heart of gold.”
Turning slightly away, I shook my head.
“Alistair, you’re a handsome man. You’re intelligent. But you were wrong to sleep with Erin. I know you. You regret what you’ve done, but that baby was no accident on her part. You should have been more careful. She wanted a piece of you, and now she can hold it over you for the rest of your life.”
“I know, Mom. I know.” Thirty-something and still, she could make me feel twelve again.
“She’s a loose cannon, more so than Saira.” Mom’s deep-green eyes pierced mine.
My thoughts were doing laps, sprinting nowhere, and stress was the trophy strapped to my shoulders.
“Alistair, have you taken your medication?”
“I don’t miss a day.” I shook my head, grinning as the wind tried to steal Mom’s hat like it was in on the conversation.
“I want the best for you because I love you. I hope you will find a woman whom you can trust. A woman who is honest and strong in the mind and the heart.”
“Vera,” I murmured, hiding behind my shades. I’d caved and sent her a short text—told her I was at the ranch, asked how she was. Like that would fill the space she left.
“Go and see Lady Jane. The grand dame has been expecting you.” Mom gave a small grin as she stood up from her seat and walked to the house with that crazy hat tucked under her arm.
An hour later, I dismounted and gave Lady Jane the attention she’d earned, running the brush along her flank before leading her toward the stable. That’s when I heard a familiar feminine voice call my name.
“Hello, Scotty.”
Turning around, I saw a silhouette of a tall, slender figure blocking the sun’s low afternoon rays. “Erin,” I responded coldly.
The woman looked fresh in a pair of jeans and a collared shirt unbuttoned just above her breasts, revealing a hint of their fullness. Erin was beautiful, no doubt, and I had a weakness for beautiful women.
“Can we talk?”
“Let me get Lady Jane settled in her stable. We can talk at the house.”
“I’ll wait. We can walk back together,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips. “I don’t mind watching.”
I let out a low breath, shaking my head. “Suit yourself.”
Thirty minutes later, Erin and I strolled the path toward the main house. The sun slipped behind the clouds, and she shivered, jamming her hands into her pockets.
“Scotty, I want to talk about the baby and us,” she said.
“We’re not a thing.” My jaw locked. “Don’t fool yourself.”
“Alistair, please. We can still see each other. Oliver doesn’t need to know.”
“You lied to me. You said you were on the pill.”
“The pill doesn’t always—”
“Bullshit.” My fists clenched, pulse spiking hard in my throat. I forced myself to stop walking, dragging in a breath I didn’t feel. “Erin, what are you doing here?”
“I dropped off some baked goods for your mother. I wanted to make peace.”
“How’d that go?”
“She wouldn’t even look at me.”
“And Oliver?”
“He needs space, but he wants us to stay together. I’m trying, Alistair. I’m trying to love him, but I’m still in love with you.”
“What we had is gone. I can’t love you that way.”
“Wait.” Erin’s hand clamped around my wrist, her grip too tight. Her lips twisted into a sharp smile. “There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
“Don’t start,” I warned, peeling her fingers off. I turned to leave—
—but she lunged. Her mouth crashed against mine, hungry, insistent. For a beat, I froze, fury and disbelief tangling, before I shoved her shoulders back.
That’s when I heard it.
My name.
Sharp. Cutting through the mess.
Vera.
My whole body jolted. I looked up. She stood there, wide-eyed, the world collapsing around her.
Of course. Out of every possible moment, she had to walk in on this.
Vera
I knew it was a mistake.
After our argument in New York, I caved in, giving Alistair another chance after receiving his short text message.
Visiting him at the ranch? I thought it would be worth a shot.
Perhaps Alistair’s anger stemmed from feeling out of control or unlovable.
It could’ve been an experience that triggered him to behave irrationally.
The Scott residence wasn’t hard to find. Google Maps made sure of that. Feeling brave, I drove my new Fiat down Orchard Avenue, heart hammering harder with every turn. What I didn’t expect was the sight waiting for me.
Alistair.
Locked in a French kiss with another woman.
She looked like she’d stepped off a magazine cover—bikini-model perfect, with glossy brown hair spilling down her back and wide, doe-brown eyes that seemed to beg for sympathy even while her mouth devoured his.
“Alistair?” I called out, interrupting the lovers’ tryst.
“Vera,” he yelped. He cleared his throat and distanced himself from the woman, who turned toward me.
“Hello, Vera,” the brunette snarled. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet. I’m Erin. Are you one of Scotty’s fans? Hmm? You’ll need a ticket to get in the queue.”
“It didn’t take you long to replace me with someone else,” I snapped at Alistair, glaring at the woman.
“Oh, you poor soul. I believe you misunderstand the situation. Scotty never replaced you because he was never yours,” Erin mocked.
“Erin, leave her alone,” Alistair said.
“You can’t seem to keep your dick in your pants,” I scoffed, shaking my head.
“Honey, you’re upsetting the baby,” Erin taunted.
I felt all my blood drain out of my body as cold pain shuddered my spine. Words slowly formed in my mouth. “Wh-what baby?”
“Didn’t you know? I’m having Scotty’s baby,” she announced. She gloated in satisfaction while rubbing her nearly flat stomach.
“Is it true?” I turned to Alistair, whose face fell. Words failed to emerge from his mouth.
“Is it?” I repeated.
“Vera, I’m going to be a father again.”
I had to get out of there. Holding both my hands up in defeat, I turned away from the couple and sprinted, as fast as my rapidly beating heart would let me, to my car.
He played you like a fiddle, a sinister voice whispered as I turned on the ignition.
Alistair had fucked with my heartstrings, snipping each one ruthlessly.