Page 175 of Colt

After a few minutes, I wiped my eyes, got up to grab my overnight bag and began to shove my stuff inside it. Sophie had pulled some strings and arranged for me to stay with Colt, but he was gone now.

I had to have faith in him, think of this goodbye as temporary, and believe in the connection we’d forged over the months.

Maybe this would be good for us in the long run.

But even as I tried to convince myself, I knew this was a major setback, even though I knew it was something he had to do, or else we could never move on.

I just had to keep the faith.

The only good thing about hitting rock bottom was that over the next few days, I learned exactly who my friends were.

Iris, Cara, Kennedy, and Sophie wrapped me in a cocoon of love and took over my life because, to my shame, Colt leaving me didn’t make me stronger.

If anything, I fell apart.

When I left the hospital, I went back to the gallery so dazed, I couldn’t function properly. My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest, and I couldn’t stop crying. Every plan Colt and I made flew outta the window, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t know what came next.

I found out the hard way that Dad had cancelled my bank and credit cards.

On the way back to the gallery I tried to buy gas but the card got declined. Humiliated, I had to call Cara to come pay before the manager of the gas station called the cops.

I’d half expected it, and although I had my inheritance money from Bandit to fall back on, I’d planned on keeping it for the year I interned. Even if I got lucky and secured a paid position, it wouldn’t be enough to live on. Plus, the money was in a type of high interest account where I needed to give the bank notice if I wanted to access it.

Money magically began to appear in my checking account. Cash, Breaker, Kennedy, even Atlas and Sophie ensured I was okay, but notably, Bowie and Layla didn’t, and it broke my heart a little bit more than it already was.

Colt called me that night but couldn’t talk for long. He was dealing with a suicidal mother and two sisters who’d never had to deal with real life problems before. I didn’t tell him about the money, he had enough on his plate to worry about, and thanks to my brothers and sisters, I was okay for the time being.

Then, two days after Colt left for New York, a tornado rolled into town. Well, not an actual tornado, though the damage she could cause put an F5 to shame, as evidenced by Dad ordering her to stay away. Not that she took a blind lick of notice.

You see there was one person in the world my dad was afraid of.

His ex-wife, Adele Stone.

My mom.

A shiver skated down my spine as an icy cold winter wind blew down Monument Street.

I tugged my coat tighter, trying to get warm, my eyes never wavering from the car that had just pulled up by the metal steps leading up to the tiny apartment I’d been living in above the gallery.

Mom switched off the engine of her rental and slowly emerged from the vehicle, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, Freya,” she breathed, holding her arms out for me to walk into. “Baby, come here.”

It was exactly what I needed. My mom had always been such a source of strength and comfort that I was suddenly overwhelmed. I burst into tears, again, walking into her arms.

After my two-day crying jag, I knew I looked a mess. My face was blotchy, eyes red, and puffy, and so swollen that it looked like someone had punched me, but Mom never said a word, she just stood by the steps and silently hugged me, stroking my hair while I sobbed on her shoulder.

After a while she pulled back slightly, her hands framing my face while she wiped my tears away with her thumbs. “Is this where you’ve been living?” she asked, her eyes flicking up toward the apartment.

I nodded through my tears.

The hard set of her jaw conveyed how furious that made her. “Come on, tell me what’s been going on. Iris told me the important stuff but there’s a lot of blanks you need to fill in.” She clasped my hand and led me up the steps and into the warmth of the apartment, looking around. “Well, it’s nicer than I thought” she said approvingly. “At least he hasn’t left you in a fucking hovel.”

Immediately, I jumped to Colt’s defense. “He had to go. His mom’s in a bad way.”

“I agree,” she muttered. “But he could’ve made sure you were okay before he went.”

My mouth clamped shut because what could I say? Mom was right and I wouldn’t insult her intelligence by challenging her on Colt’s behalf when I agreed with everything she’d said.

Mom took off her coat and laid in on the foot of the bed. “I’ll make coffee, then we’ll talk.” She looked around, eyebrows knitting together. “Where’s all your stuff?”

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