Page 26 of Colt
Lilac looked at her for a long moment. “And you don’t have reservations? Living this life?”
“I chose it.” A quiet beat. “Eyes open.” She held Lilac’s gaze a moment longer. “And those boys will not be touched by anything that goes on at the club. No shenanigans, no drama, nothing they shouldn’t see. I’ll make sure of it personally. That is a promise.”
I stayed quiet. Now I understood why Dutch had insisted Indira come along.
Lilac stood, and for a moment I thought she was going to ask me to leave. Instead, she walked to the window and stood with her back to me, looking out at the street. “Graham said you fell apart when you found out the truth. About the boys.”
“Yes.”
“That you kept saying they were yours.”
My voice came out strangled. “They are. You are. Even if you don’t remember it.”
She turned to face me, and for just a second, her eyes held a look like some part of her remembered, even if her mind didn’t.
“I don’t know you,” she said. “I look at you and I see a stranger. But Graham says I loved you once. That we were happy.”
“We were.” I had to look away for a second before I could keep going. “Lilac, we were so happy. If that night had never happened—I’d have knocked you up at least once more by now. We’d have the house, the family we’d…” I stopped. Couldn’t finish it. “I’m not going to pressure you. I know you don’t remember. But you are my wife. I just… I needed you to know that what we had was real.”
“But I’m not.” Her voice was quiet, not unkind. “We’re divorced, Colt.”
The word hit me somewhere I wasn’t prepared for. I knew it—of course I knew it, I’d seen the paperwork, I’d watched it happen from the wrong side of a lie I didn’t know was being told—but hearing her say it was different. Hearing her say it like a fact she was simply handing me, like something obvious I needed reminding of.
I looked at her for a moment. “Yeah,” I said. “We are.”
I didn’t say anything else. There wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t sound like an argument, and I didn’t want to argue. I just wanted her to understand that a piece of paper didn’t change what she was to me. What she’d always been. But she didn’t remember being that, and telling her wouldn’t make it real for her—it would only make me sound unhinged.
So I held it in.
She nodded slowly. “I’ll call you about the boys. When I’ve talked to them.”
“Thank you.” The words felt insufficient for the gift she was giving me—a chance to get to know my boys.
Indira touched my arm, signaling it was time to go. I let her guide me toward the door, but I stopped at the threshold and looked back.
Lilac was still standing by the window, arms crossed, watching me go. Seven years, and she still held herself the same way—like she was braced for whatever came next. Like she’d always been braced for it.
I turned and walked out before I did something stupid.
Chapter 11
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— Colt —
The ride back from Betty’s had been quiet. Indira didn’t fill the silence, and I was grateful for that. She parked at the clubhouse gates, didn’t look over, didn’t offer anything. Just sat with the engine idling while I climbed out.
I stood beside her car for maybe ten seconds.
Then I went straight to my bike.
No plan, no destination. I just needed the road—the way the engine turns everything else into noise and noise into nothing, the way miles eat the worst of what you’re carrying until it’s small enough to fit back inside your chest.
I rode until the shake left my hands.
When I got back, the new addition was lit up. Work crews had stopped for the day, but the exterior lights Dutch had rigged were still on, throwing long shadows across the framing. Walls were up now, drywall going in, something that was starting to look like a real building instead of just a skeleton. He’d been working toward this for months. Legitimate operations wing, he called it. A shared office with Indira. Conference rooms. The future.
I stood and looked at it for a moment before going inside.
