Page 15 of Forsaking All Others

Him of all people should know that doesn’t mean shit. It took him all but ten minutes to stick his dick in another woman, completely obliterating any chance of us reconciling our differences.

Rage suddenly fills me, and before I can stop myself, I lay the truth bare.

“Yeah, well, while you were busy getting your dick serviced, I was sitting down with my husband trying to figure out how we’re going to keep our house.”

After Maverick left last night and Tara went up to her room to call her entire contact list and tell them how dinner with the parents went, Shepard disappeared to playRoblox. That left me, Colt, and Theo. Colt offered to finish cleaning up and I went to give Theo a bath. Normal stuff for the Armstrong household.

I was watching Theo splash his toys in the bathtub when Colt appeared in the doorway. Ever the attentive husband, he suggested I take a bubble bath of my own, that he’d finish up with Theo and put him to bed. I hesitated for about two seconds. Juggling a teen, a tween, and a toddler is exhausting when you’re basically doing it by yourself. Colt was on the road all week, and Maverick…well, now that the kids are getting older, he’s only around on the weekends and that’s mainly to spend time with Shepard. Tara’s at the age where her friends and now, her boyfriend, take priority over quality time with dear old dad.

I gave my baby a kiss, then told Colt to join me in the tub before retreating to the bathroom connected to our master bedroom. Once the bathtub was filled with warm water and capful of Theo’sMr. Bubbles, I submerged myself in the water. The bubbles had long vanished before Colt stepped into the bathroom. His eyes perused my body for a split second and a faint smile appeared on his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

A telltale sign that something was troubling him. My first thought was that he had noticed the tension between me and Maverick. As much as Colt’s appearance seemed to snap us back to reality, there was no denying the trip down memory lane left us both out of sorts and hyper aware of the other. We barely spoke during dinner and when it came time for Maverick to leave, he didn’t hug me like usually does. He didn’t give my head a peck either. He tipped his chin and was on his way.

But me and Maverick had nothing to do with what was plaguing Colt. He sank down on the edge of the tub and revealed that he had lied earlier when he told Maverick he rearranged his route to be present for dinner.

“Holly.”

Maverick’s voice pulls me back to the present and I stare at him for a beat.

“You and Colt hurtin’ financially?” he asks.

“Not yet.” I force a swallow. “But Fat Cat Trucking is downsizing their fleet, which means starting next week Colt will go from working seventy-hour hauls to thirty. His salary is basically being cut in half.”

Maverick tears his gaze away from me and diverts his attention out the window. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know what he’s thinking. I’m in sync with the man and right now he’s cursing me for sellingourhouse, one we owned free and clear, that Maverick made sure I got in the divorce so me and the kids would have a roof over our heads.

After Colt and I got married, he expressed that he didn’t feel comfortable living in a home Maverick bought and we decided to buy a house of our own. The home I shared with Maverick sold in less than a week of being listed and Colt and I scrambled to find somewhere to raise our blended family. Thinking about it now, I realize me and Maverick never even got around to discussing the move. I called him after I signed the papers and told him we were moving. We didn’t grieve the house, just like we never properly grieved the end of our marriage.

Shaking those thoughts from my head, I watch Maverick swipe a hand over his bald head.

“Anyway, Colt is going to continue to work for Fat Cat and on his downtime, he’s going to start searching for a new full-time job. But in the meantime, I’m going to work too. The problem is, Theo—”

Maverick cuts me off, his gaze darting back to me.

“I’ll talk to Gary.”

Gary is the owner of Fat Cat Trucking and Colt’s boss. I quickly shake my head.

“No, Colt would hate that.” I pause. “Hell, if he knew I was telling you any of this he’d be livid.”

His jaw ticks and his eyes narrow on me.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean? You got my kids, Holly, you gotta tell me shit like this. If you or them need something—that includes a fucking roof— I need to know.” He pauses, then sighs and continues. “I’ll start giving you more money.”

“No, Maverick, that’s not why I came here.”

“Holly, I ain’t fucking stupid. I give you three hundred a week as per the courts. The kids are with you and Colt five days a week, sometimes more and Tara’s getting older, becoming more expensive. Shit, how much did those stupid streaks in her hair set you back?”

Our girl really wanted those highlights.

I pull my lower lip between my teeth.

“A hundred and fifty but that’s because she got a haircut too.”

“Right.”

“Look, we’ll be fine,” I defend. “There’s plenty of work out there for Colt to find.” That much is not a lie. Colt has a CDL, so he’s not limited to simply driving a truck, he can get a job as a bus driver. But I’m a different story, I haven’t worked since we sold H & M Recycling and seeing as how Theo doesn’t start school for another two years, I’m going to need something flexible. I guess that’s what led me to cook up this crazy idea in the first place.

When Tara and Shep were younger, H & M Recycling was an ideal business for our family, especially since we operated out of the compound. Sometimes Mav and I drove in together, but most of the time, I loaded the car with the kids, and he followed behind on his Harley. He’d help me get the kids out of the car, and the prospects would take over, occupying Tara and Shep while I headed to the trailer and Mav took his boots to the clubhouse. He did his thing, and I did mine, then we’d break for lunch. Sometimes we’d put our kids on the kickass swing set Leftie bought for Tara when she was just a baby. If we had time—which Mav always made sure we did—we’d sneak in a quickie too. The trailer, his room at the clubhouse, even the backseat of my car—we christened every square inch of the Satan’s Knights compound.

---