Page 93 of Colt

“I tried to understand what was happening, but he ghosted me,” Anna recounted. “Blocked me on his phone, even started avoiding me in town. Then I heard he’d left for good.”

“Didn’t he tell you?” Kennedy demanded.

“Oh my God. What an asshole,” Cara snapped.

Anna shrugged. “He is an asshole and a rotten pig, but I fell hard for him. Now I’m trying to pick up the pieces. I know I’m gonna be okay, but it’s gonna take some time to get there.”

Tristan nodded in agreement. “He's like a pixie haircut, Anna. At first, it seems like a good idea, but then you realize it's just... not.”

Anna laughed through her tears.

Kennedy reached across the table to hold Anna's hand. “I’m glad he’s gone. We don’t have to stand by and watch you settle for someone who treats you like second best when you should be his priority.”

Tristan nodded. “You’re the best boss bitch ever. If he can’t see your fabulousness, he doesn’t deserve it.” He looked at each of us in turn. “Now. I’ve had a genius idea. We’ve got no more appointments today. Why don’t I crack open the prosecco we’ve been saving for a rainy day and get fuckin’ shit-faced.” He rose from his chair and walked toward the kitchen out back.

Kennedy grinned. “I’ve heard worse ideas.”

The other women started talking about Hendrix again, and I couldn’t help drawing similarities between mine and Anna’s situation.

Secret relationships were not only tricky to navigate but also heart-wrenching at times. It had been days since I’d touched Colt, apart from earlier when he’d gone to my room. I’d feel him looking at me across the bar and know I couldn’t even go over and talk to him in case somebody noticed we were too close.

At least we had tonight. Colt wouldn’t send me to the gallery by myself unless he thought he could make it. My mind went to the other bags he’d given me, full of lingerie, and I smiled. I couldn’t wait to touch him. We’d only been back days, but it felt like years since we were together.

I’d make tonight so memorable that Colt would never want to leave.

Chapter Twenty

Dagger

I’d been holed up in my office, staring at my goddamned cell phone for thirty minutes straight.

It was always hard when I knew I had to talk to her. The last time I called—when Layla was snatched—time was of the essence, so I didn’t have time to procrastinate over a mere fuckin’ telephone conversation. I’d messaged her in casehewas there—her sick fuck of a husband—and waitin’ was torture. Rippin’ off the band-aid was somethin’ I’d been doin’ since I’d put an end to my marriage. That was the day I stopped trying to paper over the cracks ‘cause it never worked, and honestly, I’d never truly felt whole again after her.

The peal of my ringtone ripped through the room, and I jumped like I’d seen the ghost of Bandit streaking naked across my office. With a curse, I scooped up my cell and looked at the screen, which showed one letter, ‘Z.’ I clicked the green button and said one word. “Leesy.”

“Our place, one hour,” she breathed, her sweet voice wrapping around my lungs and squeezing. She’d always robbed me of breath, though I’d gotten used to it a long time ago.

“’Kay,” I rumbled from my chest, tone thick with emotion before barking, “Leesy!”

The sigh she expelled was sad and full of pain. “What?”

“Be careful,” I told her. “If it’s too risky, don’t come.”

“It’s okay,” she assured me quietly. “He’s going to a meeting soon, but thanks for caring.” A brief silence fell over the line before another sigh escaped her, and the line went dead.

My eyes went to the cell phone screen, and I stared sightlessly at it as my mind conjured up images of my beautiful girl in my arms, back before everything got so damned complicated. Back when it was me and her and nothing penetrated our little world unless we wanted to let it in.

The ache inside that had crippled me for years was everyday life now. I’d lived with it for so long it was part of me.

I hadn’t been able to shrug Elise Bell off since the moment I met her; she was as much part of me as my kids were, and as much as the notion made the ache living inside me intensify, I knew she would always be inside me, making me yearn for what could’ve been.

The creek had changed.

It wasn’t our place anymore. Maybe my subconscious loved the fact that whenever I came down here now, all I saw were the new houses under construction and a building site, instead of her.

But sitting astride my bike, looking down at the rush of clear water, I was still taken back to lazy summer days when we didn’t have a care in the world.

This place was where I noticed she’d turned into a woman, where that first flush of young love pumped through my veins and made me feel like I could take on the world.

---