Page 78 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

“Good,” he says, grinning. “Now, c’mon. I think I’ve got some beer left in the barn if Daddy didn’t clean me out. Let’s go be irresponsible for a spell.”

I laugh, the sound bubbling up unexpectedly. The weight on my chest lifts. “Lead the way, big brother. I need to pick up Gray after sunset, but till then, I’m all yours.”

***

I settle into the porch swing, the familiar creak of the chains under my weight easing the tension in my shoulders. The evening air is warm, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the yard. Colt’s got a couple of beers between us, and the cooler at his feet holds two more for later. It’s quiet—just the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the breeze.

Colt leans back, letting the swing rock gently as he takes a swig of his beer. His gaze is unfocused, somewhere on the horizon. “I mean, I wasn’t surprised. I knew they had somethin’ going on, but straight-up mind reading was not on my bingo card.”

I snort, shaking my head. “I don’t think it was anyone’s. Kind of scary how they managed to keep it from us as toddlers. Like, how did they even know they were different?”

Colt’s eyes narrow, his expression darkening. “Probably heard their snake of a mother thinkin’ all kinds of shit about you and me.”

A chill runs through me at that thought, and I look down at my beer, watching the bubbles fizz. “I wish I could say you’re wrong… but yeah, I knew Mama didn’t like how I was, and it messed me up more than I like to admit.”

Colt shifts, the swing creaking beneath him. “Hey, speaking of, where is she these days?”

“Mom?” I sit up, genuinely surprised. We never talk about her.

“Nope. She’s dead to me. I meant JoAnne. Dad ducked the question earlier, and now he’s shacked up with a teenager.”

I let out a bark of laughter, covering my mouth with my hand. “That ‘teenager’ is older than Grayson. Older than Grayson’s Maker, even… and Daddy… he’s not with her.”

Colt snorts, his grin widening. “Yeah, you keep tellin’ yourself that. Maybe not yet… but you can feel it, same as I can.”

I sigh, leaning back into the swing, the wood pressing into my shoulder blades. “Yeah, well, that’s just gonna make our lives even more complicated. So I’m choosing blissful ignorance on that one.”

“Ignorance is overrated.” He lifts his bottle, taking a long drink. “Just gonna have to trust me on that.”

I stare at him, brow furrowing as something unreadable passes between us—curiosity, tension, maybe something deeper. Finally, he blurts it out.

“Just ask.”

I blink, startled. “Fine. Are you sleeping with Grayson’s chyld?”

Colt’s smile turns sly. “I don’t know, Sunday. Are you sleeping with Lysimachus’ chyld?”

I roll my eyes. “Alright, alright. Vivien is her own person. I apologize.” I pause, then add, “But seriously, how do you know Grayson’s Maker’s name?”

He shrugs, lips twitching into a smirk. “We were in Hell for, like, four months. Not much to do besides talk.”

I reach out, pressing a hand to his forehead, mock-concerned. “You feelin’ okay? Also, you dodged my question.”

He bats my hand away, twisting my thumb back just enough to make me wince. I whine, “Colt, let go, or I’ll tell Ben… and he can turn into a cave bear.”

He blinks, surprised. “A cave bear? No shit?”

“Yeah, no shit,” I mutter, trying to wiggle free.

He releases my thumb, pulling out his phone with a grin. His eyes flick to the screen, then he laughs, sing-songing, “Somebody’s in trouble…”

Clearing his throat, he does Daddy’s voice—perfectly. “Tomas just took my truck, and he’s on his way to the farm. He’s not happy. Don’t let your sister leave.”

Colt’s grin fades, just a bit, his expression hovering between amusement and apology.

I swallow hard. The freedom I felt all afternoon starts to evaporate and my stomach flips, a dark thrill fluttering beneath my ribs. I can’t explain it, but some part of me welcomes the storm that’s coming.

Colt’s eyes narrow as he catches the shift in my demeanor. “So did you run off ‘cause you like being in trouble or…?”

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