Page 181 of Colt

“One percenters?” I asked, tone confused.

Break laughed. “No, Pop. They belong in the top one percent of the richest families on Earth. They’re up there with Arab princes, kings and queens, oligarchs, and sultans.”

Unease stirred in my stomach.

“Fuck me,” Atlas muttered.

“Colt is exactly the type’a man you’ve wanted for her all along.” Kit shook his head disbelievingly. “How fuckin’ crazy is that?”

Abe busted out laughing.

My throat went dry, my eyes rounding when the connotation of Kit’s words hit me. “How did we not know any of this?”

“Vetting hang-arounds came in with Colt,” Cash reminded me. “It was his suggestion. He’s hardly gonna vet himself and come runnin’ to you with info he clearly didn’t want known. Nobody asked questions at the time ‘cause you’re the one who vouched for him.”

“He never hid who he was though,” Breaker muttered. “Never lied about his name. Just didn’t boast about it either.”

“Maybe he didn’t wanna be treated differently,” Abe suggested. “He’s probably had people suckin’ up to him his whole life. I reckon he just wanted to be part of somethin’ real for a while.”

My hand came up to rub my beard as I mulled over Abe’s words.

Colt had told me about his dad on occasion. He enlisted to get away from him and soon after he left the military, he found us. He always told me we were his chosen family because we lived a life we could be proud of. I’d never really understood the meaning behind it until now.

“Does anyone know about the feds recruitin’ him?” I asked the men.

Cash’s stare hit the wall behind me.

Kit’s hit the floor.

I sighed. “Out with it.”

Cash leaned forward, elbows to table. “All I know is that they’ve been after him for years. Over that time, they’ve built cases against us, so when they finally moved to reel him in, they could use their evidence as leverage. The last straw was when Colt hacked into their database lookin’ for the vehicle involved in the chase the night we followed Stafford. He left a footprint and they jumped on him and threatened to make him disappear. That was when he decided to start things up with Freya, when he knew he was leavin’ the club.”

I scrubbed a hand down my face, wincing internally.

“There’s more,” Kit added. “They knew there was more to Henderson Junior’s death than we let on. They told him they’d come up with evidence one way or another to take us down.”

I glanced at Bowie who’d paled.

“Colt knew you’d take the rap,” Breaker continued. “He wouldn’t allow you to spend the rest of your life in jail.”

Leaning on the table, I buried my head in my hands.

So much had been goin’ on behind the scenes, I was shocked Colt hadn’t had a nervous fuckin’ breakdown. He’d had the Feds on his case and still managed to protect the club, the brothers, and me.

Nausea swirled in my gut because I realized I hadn’t afforded him the same protection. If anythin’ I’d been the cause of his downfall.

“You didn’t know, Pop,” Bowie murmured.

“Nah, Son, you’re right, I didn’t,” I rasped through my tightened throat. “But I didn’t stop to find out either.”

Cash grinned. “Well, I get my hotheadedness from somewhere, right. Just be grateful that your filthy temper didn’t land you in jail.”

Cash’s words sent a cold shiver down my spine, ‘cause over the years, it could’ve done. It was more luck than judgment that kept me a free man. My throat ached from the guilt wrapping around my neck, much like the noose Abe spoke of the day I got in the ring with Colt.

As president of the club, I had a duty to act fairly.

On this occasion I’d failed.

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