Page 185 of Colt

Pearl looked directly at Doris. “I think we need to open a motorcycle club in Palomar Bay. I’ll let the local newspaper know. You activate the gossip tree. Leave no stone unturned.”

I bit back my laugh.

These women could’ve been Emmy Dixon and Mrs. Fenton. In fact, the entire town reminded me so much of Hambleton, it was uncanny. I looked around, trying to picture myself here, working at the local hospital, and living my life in a small community where everybody knew each other.

It hit me that if I lived here, I may as well just take a job at Baines Memorial, because my life would be pretty much the same. I didn’t want that. I wanted something different, something exciting that I’d never experienced before.

There and then, I struck Maine off the list, and hoped to God that the next place would offer me what I wanted, because my list of hospitals were getting smaller, and time was running out.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Colt ~ February

On February tenth, my mom came home from the clinic Mitch had recommended six weeks before. After thirty plus years, she was finally sober and feeling positive about her future.

I picked her up and took her back to the house I’d rented at Peach Lake, in Putnam County, Upstate New York. My sisters both lived there with us, disgusted at my dad’s behavior toward Mom.

I’d been busy since I’d been in New York, gathering evidence against Dad, so when Mom served him with divorce papers, I’d have sufficient leverage.

So far, I had pictures of him in bed with three different women—one of them a well-known escort, the other, a second mistress he had on the side, and of course, the third woman was my ex-fiancée, Victoria.

Vicki had aged well, if Botox, fillers and extensive breast and ass augmentation was your bag. It wasn’t mine, but I still couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. She’d chosen her path when we were young, and now, in her thirties, she was tied to a man who would never be faithful, good, or decent toward her.

I had no doubt that eventually he’d marry her. She was from a good family who invested in the same stocks and shares he did. Dad always had an agenda, so it felt good to finally have the upper hand. He had no idea I was onto him, and I wouldn’t rest until he let Mom and my sisters out from under his influence.

Mom reckoned Valentine’s Day seemed like the perfect date to end her marriage. It had been loveless from day one. Mom had loved a boy who her parents disapproved of. They’d made him disappear and she’d married my dad under duress.

The grandparents I knew were kind, so what they’d done to Mom was maddening. When they died all their money got split between us, while my dad inherited their business and merged it with his own. We were all wealthy in our own right, also owning shares in dad’s firm. After making enquiries I discovered Dad owned forty percent. Mom was also a major shareholder, owning thirty-five percent of the business. Me and my sisters owned five percent each, the rest split between investors.

I looked across at Mom, who sat next to me in the back of the limo as we headed to Dad’s office. Reaching over, I squeezed her hand. Her face whipped around to look at me and I took in her bright eyes and serene smile. “You look wonderful,” I told her. “Your new hairstyle takes years off you.”

Her hand raised to her blonde locks, patting the stylish shoulder-length bob. “Thank you,” she responded. “I wanted a change for so long but he wouldn’t allow it.”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want from now on,” I reminded her.

Mom’s blue eyes, exactly like mine, sparkled even though she sighed frustratedly. “Language, Colter.”

I smirked. “Sorry, Ma.”

Her lips twitched.

Between us, we could take Dad down and end his reign, but after discussing it, we decided to use what we had as leverage instead. We didn’t want any part of the business, and Dad, for all his faults as a husband and father, was a good CEO, who’d taken the firm to new heights. It wouldn’t hurt if he made us more money.

“I don’t mind admitting I’m terrified,” Mom whispered.

My heart squeezed. Dealing with Dad wouldn’t be easy. We’d probably have to put the squeeze on him in order to get what we wanted, but I’d gladly call his bluff.

“No need to be,” I assured her. “I’m here now.”

Her eyes flicked over my Tom Ford suit. “You look like everything he ever wanted in a son. A man molded in his image, ruthless and smart enough to carry on the Van Der Cleeve legacy.”

“I look like you, thank God,” I muttered, eyeing the skyscraper the driver had pulled up at. “And I’ve got your heart too, Mom. He’ll see it soon enough.”

She leaned over and cupped my jaw. “Whatever happens today, Colter. Know I’m proud of you and I’ll never go back to him.”

“I know.” I grinned. “We’ll move away, after today you can start afresh.”

Mom nodded. “Are you ready?”

---