Page 41 of Forsaking All Others

I didn’t see Theo as Colt’s son but rather as an extension of the woman I’d always love and I’m just realizing now that Colt isn’t the better man for doing the same when it came to my kids.

Pushing that realization aside, I continue to deliver Colt the facts.

“Then she finds out you two are in some financial trouble and comes to me, not for a bailout but because she knows she can rely on me, that I still got love for her, and that love trumps all the messy unsettled shit that lies between us. I get that’s got to be hard on you, man, and honest to God, up until last night, you had my pity and my remorse. But instead of approaching the subject like a man, you acted like a fucking cunt. I gave you a lot of credit these last few years, thought you were a better man because you took on a woman with two kids, brought back her smile and even bought her flowers. But you ain’t better. Your love for Holly does not run deeper than my love burns for her. Your son got sick and you didn’t even call. You didn’t even ask how he was. You and I got a score to settle, Colt, but for now you’re going to push this shit with Holly to the back of your head. King will give you half your cut like you asked for, and you will deliver those fucking guns. If you don’t, well, me taking Holly off your hands will be the least of your troubles. That I can promise you. Now, put King back on the phone.”

My jaw clenches and my nostrils flare as I wait for him to do as he’s told, but King’s voice doesn’t hit my ears.

“Is he even mine?” Colt questions, his voice tight with emotion.

It takes me all but a second to realize what he’s asking me and even then, I’m sure I heard him wrong.

“Come again?”

“How do I know he’s mine?” His voice is louder—gruffer. Tormented. A man—even one who is currently on my shit list—should never have to question whether or not the boy he calls his son is his.

“I don’t make a habit out of divulging where my dick has been, but I’ll give you a courtesy— I haven’t touched Holly in years and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

He doesn’t say another word, and I’m grateful for that. Confessing I’ve been living in hell for years, denying my body and soul what it craves most, is too much for me. My chest starts to ache and my pulse pounds violently in my ears as King’s voice comes through the line.

“Maverick.”

“Give him the money,” I clip.

My phone dings and I pull it away from my ear.

Five percent battery.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

“What?”

“My phone is gonna die. I gotta make this quick. They’re gonna discharge Theo once his fever breaks, then I’ll see to him and Holly getting home and meet you back at the clubhouse. Make sure Wiz has the tracker on, I want to know every fucking move he makes until those guns are in Parrish’s hands.”

“Copy that,” he says.

Then I disconnect the call. My fist closes around the phone and I give myself a second to cool down before making my way back to Holly and Theo. I pause at the door, lounging casually against the frame as my eyes rake over Holly. She wraps her arms tightly around her son, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. My chest grows tight at the sight and the flames dance higher and higher.

Chapter Eleven

Colt Armstrong

I metHolly at a gas station, she was the girl at the pump next to mine, cursing her ex-husband. Of course I didn’t know he was her ex at the time. She was just smacking the nozzle against the side of the car, damning Maverick to hell and since there was no one near her, I assumed Maverick was some silly name she had for her car. After all, I was driving a truck I referred to as Rosie.

Holly kept hitting the car with the nozzle for a good while and when I was finished filling up my tank, I walked over to her. I noticed the gas cap was still on and she had yet to select a fuel type. I also noticed she was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.

Need a hand?

She looked at me then, those gorgeous eyes full of tears, and deep down I knew I was about to get burned. But for the life of me, I didn’t give a damn. I unscrewed the cap on the gas tank and took the nozzle from her hand. Those tears gave way and instead of murmuring her thanks to a stranger, she unleashed her heartbreak, revealing that she had just got off the phone with her lawyer and as of this morning her divorce was final.

A smarter man would’ve finished pumping her gas and got back in his truck. He would’ve drove away and forgot he ever took notice of the woman with the sad eyes. He wouldn’t have spent the next five minutes listening to her cry over another man. And he certainly wouldn’t have asked her to dinner all while quietly vowing to dry her eyes and bring back her smile.

But I guess part of me knew right then and there that I was standing in front of my future wife. The scars on her heart belonged to another man, but there were still parts of her that were unscathed, parts of her heart I thought she could eventually give to me.

I was kidding myself, though, and the proof is in the back of my truck, in the coffins carrying Maverick’s guns.

Burned.

I’ve been a fucking mess since the phone rang yesterday morning and I heard Holly and Maverick’s conversation. Initially I was angry that she went to him. There was no need, we had spent the better part of the night devising a plantogether.We were a team of two, no third party required. But I guess Holly didn’t see things like that or maybe she didn’t trust me to get us out of this mess.

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