Page 86 of Colt

Sleep had become illusive at best. Food tasted like cardboard, and my attitude had been disgraceful. Freya was in my head constantly. I couldn’t stop thinking about her and us. It didn’t help that I couldn’t get a fix of my girl.

Freya Stone was my cocaine, and I’d gone cold—fucking—turkey. My hands shook constantly, and my gut swirled with nausea. I craved her so much that I’d opened the bottle of Coco Chanel I’d brought and hadn’t given her yet and had taken to sniffing it to get my fill.

The sound of boots shuffling toward the exit registered somewhere in the back of my brain before the door to Church closed, leaving me with Prez and Abe.

“Sit down, Colt,” Dagger ordered quietly.

I parked my ass in Atlas’s seat and inspected my nails, anything to avoid looking my Prez in the eye. The sickness inside wasn’t just about Freya; lying to the people around me ate away at my conscience.

“What’s goin’ on, Son?” Dagger asked gently. “Are you sick?”

I shook my head, unable to trust myself to speak.

Abe’s hand clasped my shoulder reassuringly. “Colt, we can’t help you if you don’t give us something to work with.”

“I’m okay,” I blurted out. “It’s nothin’.”

The two men exchanged looks.

“Is it ‘cause you dumped Lucy?” Abe inquired tentatively. “Are you havin’ second thoughts? You wouldn’t be the first man not to appreciate a woman until the relationship’s over. Though I gotta say, you didn’t seem that struck on her when you were together.”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Nah. Gettin’ rid of that troublemaker was the best thing I’ve done in months.” My stare went to Prez’s, but I lowered my eyes. It hurt to look at him knowing what I’d done, not only with Freya but with Shep too.

I swallowed down the bile rising through my gullet.

Fuck.

“I’ll be okay,” I croaked. “I’m just feelin’ unsettled at the moment. It’ll pass.”

“You sure nobody’s fuckin’ with ya?” Abe asked. “’Cause you know you’re one of us, and we stick together, always.”

“The old fart’s right.” Prez grinned. “If someone fucks with one of us, they fuck with all of us. We’re family.”

I nodded blindly. “I’ll be okay.” My voice conveyed way more conviction than I felt.

“Good man, “Prez said, meeting Abe’s stare before his eyes slid back to me. “Wanna run somethin’ past ya on the downlow.”

I looked at him expectantly. “Okay.”

Prez leaned forward, elbows to table. “Remember we caught Brett Stafford at the mayor’s mansion the night we got chased?”

I nodded. “Told ya then somethin’ didn’t feel right about it.”

Prez frowned. “Yeah. Me and Abe agree.”

My eyes darted between the two men. “You think Henderson’s involved?”

“We think it’s likely,” Abe confirmed. “Me and Dagger have been thinkin’ about a few things. First, who’s got enough influence in town to allow our clubhouse to be attacked with no investigation?”

“Second, there’s the Sinners burning our rentals down,” Prez interjected. “You could see those flames for miles, but no fire trucks and no pigs sniffed around.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” I said, lips thinning angrily. “Robbie Junior was into all kinds of heinous shit. What if it’s in the family?”

Prez brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Stafford drove his van to the Henderson mansion that night we found the girls. We reckon he picked ‘em up from there.”

Slowly, I closed my eyes. “Fuck!”

“That seems to be the general reaction,” Abe rasped under his breath.

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