Page 162 of Colt

“Colt!” a deep voice called out. “You in there?”

I jerked awake, my heart dropping like a deadweight as I lurched to a sitting position and blinked in the bright morning light.

“Jesus!” Colt muttered, leaping out of bed, and reaching for his jeans. “It’s your fuckin’ dad.” He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and cursed under his breath before dropping it with a clatter and pulling his jeans on. “It’s nine o’clock. We overslept.”

“Colt!” Dad yelled from the hallway. “Open the fuckin’ door. Need to talk to ya.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Colt spat, zipping his jeans, and going to his dresser and pulling out a tee. “He heard me.”

Panic rose in my chest as Dad rapped loudly on the door again. “Who you got in there?” he shouted. “Have you seen Freya? Her bed wasn’t slept in last night.”

My throat thickened, my stomach twisting painfully. “Shit!”

Colt looked straight at me, his eyes bugging out.

Our eyes locked together in silent conversation. I watched the panic in his eyes shift, morphing into resignation. His shoulders slumped and he heaved out a breath that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“Get dressed, Freya,” he said gently despite the circumstances. “I’m gonna open the door.”

Tears sprang into my eyes. “Are you sure?” I whispered. “Now? Colt...”

My man heaved out a stoic breath. “It’s time, Freya. He’s not stupid, and I’m not hiding you anymore.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. He couldn’t be serious. “But—”

“Get dressed,” he ordered again softly.

His words were like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind from my lungs, but deep down, I knew he was right. We couldn’t keep lying.

With a jerk of my head, I turned away, grabbed my clothes, and threw them on. My fingers fumbled over the zippers, hands shaking, but I managed to make myself presentable.

Turning back to Colt, I froze when I saw his hand outstretched. I slid my palm against his, lacing our fingers together and squeezing tight.

He went to step toward the door where Dad was still banging but hesitated, glancing at me one last time. “No matter what happens, remember I love you and we’ve done nothing wrong.”

My heart swelled even as it raced. “I love you too,” I whispered. “Now. Open the door.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Colt

“Now. Open the door,” Freya murmured, her golden eyes glistening with tears. She braced her shoulders just as Prez banged on my door again.

Something dark settled in my stomach while it twisted with anticipation of the shitstorm I was about to set off. Still, I squared my shoulders and approached the door.

On occasion, my buds in the military told me that just before you died, your life flashed behind your eyes. It was unsettling because with every step I took toward the door, a slew of images sprang to my mind, all of them about my time at the club. Meeting Dagger and fighting by his side. Stepping into the clubhouse for the first time. Feeling like I’d found a home.

But with every picture flicking through my head, a memory of Freya played right along with it. Maybe it gave me the strength I needed, because I reached out, turned the key in the lock, and opened the goddamned door.

My eyes lifted, meeting golden ones.

“What the fuck took you so long to open the door?” Prez demanded, stepping into my room before turning to close the door softly behind him. “I’ve been knocking for nearly ten minutes. Please don’t tell me you needed to put your lipstick on. It’s bad enough seeing Atlas in drag...” His stare fell over my shoulder, his voice trailing off as confusion flashed behind his eyes. “What are you doin’ in here?” he asked after a beat.

“There’s somethin’ I need to talk to you about?” I told him, tone laden with meaning.

Dagger’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “What?”

I stretched my arm out and took Freya’s elbow. My eyes never left my prez as I tugged her close to my side and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Me and Freya are together, Prez.”

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