Page 173 of Colt

“I don’t know,” Cordy murmured. “But it’s probable. He’s no doubt been seeing dozens of women. He’s disgusting.”

“I’ll see where the land lies when I get there tomorrow, Cordy. There’s nothin’ we can do for her tonight. We’ll get Mom outta there, I promise. We just gotta hang tight tonight.”

“Okay,” she said, renewed steel in her tone. “Send me the details of your flight and I’ll wait for you at arrivals.”

“Is this your new number?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “Jas and Dad were harassing me so I had to change it.”

“Okay, baby sister,” I said softly. “You did good tonight. Now get some rest. I’ll handle Dad.” The hardness of my voice brooked no argument. Cordelia had always been the emotional sister, quick to react and even quicker to cry. Dad had wrapped her in cotton wool all her life. Probably to keep her compliant. She needed somebody to take charge in a crisis.

“You’re right. I’m exhausted. I’ll rest for a few hours” She paused. “I don’t know if you’re planning on seeing Dad but be careful. You know what his temper’s like.”

My mouth twisted. I knew exactly what his temper was like. I still bore the scars from the leather belt he’d whip me with when I’d tried to protect Mom from his rage. The memories would always be seared in my mind.

But things had changed now. The little boy starved of affection from his father was all grown up. I was taller, stronger, and smarter than Conrad Van Der Cleeve would ever be. He’d always seen Mom as a cash cow albeit an inconvenient one. Now he was trying to stash her away, out of sight, out of mind, while he played house with his new mistress.

The same girl who just happened to be my ex-fiancée.

Grabbing my cellphone, I quietly opened the bathroom door and crept back to bed. My head pounded from all the bullshit surrounding my father. My blood boiled when I thought of how scared my mom would be stuck in a fuckin’ asylum.

Sinking down on the bed, I pulled the comforter over me and reached for Freya, settling her on my chest. That was when it hit me, I couldn’t take her to New York, not when my dad would be looking for any weakness he could exploit.

My heart hurt at the thought of leaving her here, but she’d be safer in Hambleton than having to deal with my family drama. I wanted Freya to meet my mom and sisters so much, but with Mom overdosing and my dad acting like Hugh fuckin’ Heffner, the timing wasn’t right.

I’d come back for her once I got my family away from Dad and set them up somewhere safe. I hated the idea of being away from my woman indefinitely, but she needed to stay behind for her own good.

I swallowed hard at the thought of leaving Freya here after everything we’d done to be together, but when morning came, I’d have to explain why I had to leave her.

I only hoped she’d understand.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Freya

Quiet footsteps roused me from my sleep. As I snuggled deeper into the comforter, I heard a throat clear softly, before Colt’s voice whispered, “Wake up, baby. We need to talk.”

My eyes blinked open and rested on my man, who sat on the bed next to me fully dressed. He wore his usual black jeans, button-down and leather jacket, though the one he’d slipped on didn’t have the usual Speed Demons patch sewn onto it.

My forehead furrowed. “Hey. What’s going on? Why are you dressed?” I scrambled to sit up, reaching for my sweater which was crumpled on the floor next to the bed.

Colt watched me with an unreadable expression and his jaw clenched tight. He pulled his shoulders back like he was bracing for something.

A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I studied his face. What the hell was happening? Why had he gotten dressed while I slept? “Colt? Has something happened?”

His ocean-blues met mine, a storm brewing behind them. My breathing sped up. Something was very wrong.

“Baby.” Colt dipped his chin, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “I have to catch a flight.”

My heart sank into my stomach. “What?” I breathed incredulously, my mind racing. “What do you mean you have to catch a flight? Where are you going?” My mind reeled with questions as I searched his face for a clue. His jaw clenched tighter and his expression shuttered.

He looked almost guilty.

“Talk to me,” I pleaded. “Please explain.”

Colt pushed out a heavy breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. He reached for my hand, his calloused fingers threading through mine. I clutched his hand as if it was the only thing tethering me to the earth and braced myself.

“My sister called me late last night,” he finally admitted. “I’ve got no choice. I have to go to New York and deal with it. I’m sorry, I know the timing sucks but I have to go.”

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