Page 12 of Colt
I’d given her exactly what she wanted, same as always. I never could refuse my Lil.
I killed the thought. Close enough that she could see every line on my face, every year the rage had carved into me.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Her voice was steady, but her hands were shaking where they gripped her sons’ shoulders. “Please leave us alone.”
“Leave you alone?” Handful laughed, the sound ugly. “After what you did to our brother? You’re lucky we don’t run you out of town.”
“You’ve got some nerve,” Holden added, arms crossed over his chest. “Showing your face here like you didn’t destroy a good man.”
Lilac’s eyes darted between them, still looking confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any of you.”
“Still playing that game?” I stepped closer, and she flinched. Actually flinched, like she thought I might hit her. The reaction stopped me cold for a second, but the rage was too hot, too consuming. “Seven years, Lilac. Seven years I’ve wondered why. Why you cheated. Why you stole from me. Why you walked out without a word. And now you’re going to stand there and pretend you don’t even know who I am?”
“Mama?” One of the boys—Knox, the quieter one—tugged at her hand. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing, baby.” But her voice cracked. “We’re leaving.”
“The hell you are.” I grabbed her arm—not hard, just enough to stop her from walking away. “You owe me answers.”
“Let go of my mama!” Luca launched himself at me, fists swinging. I released Lilac automatically, stepping back to avoid the kid’s wild punches. “Don’t touch her! Don’t you ever touch her!”
“Easy, kid—”
“You’re a bad man!” Luca was crying now, tears streaming down his face as he kept swinging. “You’re mean, and scary, and I hate you!”
This boy hated me. Thought I was a monster. And maybe I was. Maybe that’s exactly what I’d become.
“Luca, stop.” Lilac pulled him back, wrapping both arms around him while Knox pressed against her other side. All three of them were shaking now. “Please, whoever you are—please just leave us alone. I don’t know you. I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything from before seven years ago.”
“Bullshit—”
“Colt.” Glitch’s voice cut through my rage, sharp and strange. “Colt, stop.”
I turned to find him staring at Lilac with an expression I couldn’t read. He’d been hanging back, watching the confrontation instead of joining in. Now he stepped forward, positioning himself between me and her.
“What the fuck?” I demanded.
“Look at her.” Glitch’s voice was quiet, urgent. “Really look at her, brother. That’s not guilt. That’s not manipulation. That’s genuine terror.”
“She’s playing you—”
“No.” Glitch shook his head. “I’ve been watching her since the grocery store. I know what liars look like, Colt. I’ve made a career out of reading people. And that woman isn’t lying.” He turned to Lilac, his voice gentler than I’d ever heard it. “Ma’am, I’m sorry.”
“Glitch, what the fuck—”
“Enough.” Dutch’s voice cut through the tension. He’d been watching silently from the back, but now he stepped forward with the authority of a president who’d seen enough. “We’re done here. All of you, back to the bikes. Now.”
“Dutch—”
“Not up for debate, Colt.” His hand landed firm on my shoulder, his president’s voice brooking no argument. “Let’s go.”
I followed Dutch’s orders and headed to my bike. Behind me, I could hear Lilac’s ragged breathing, the boys’ frightened whispers. I’d scared them again. Scared her again.
But Glitch’s words kept echoing in my head.
That’s not guilt. That’s genuine terror.
Back at the clubhouse, I paced while Glitch hunched over his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.
