Chapter 8
Eight
Colt
Everyone in the room freezes to the point that it’s almost comical. Like this is a movie and someone hit pause. But I’d been just outside the kitchen listening—to the banter, the laughter, Briar’s discomfort. Her inability to get out the words.
And I had to save her.
Because this is all my fault and it’s not fair for her to carry this burden for another minute. I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for her to keep this secret the last few days, so I did what I’ve always done—stepped up and made a joke.
Unfortunately, it fell flat.
Then someone I only know because I saw him kissing Briar the other night—and I still haven’t decided if I’m going to kill him or not—slips in the back door, a look of concern on his face because—
The guys are staring at me like they’ve seen… well, a ghost. I’m supposed to be dead. Fuck, I feel like a real ass for that.
But it’s Dash’s expression that hits hardest.
Fury.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he roars. He steps toward me, fists clenched, and Briar instinctively moves between us.
“Dash, no—he’s hurt.”
Then West pushes Briar behind him. Protecting her. Doing what I should be doing if I wasn’t so fucking sore.
“Mommy?” Frankie’s tiny voice, now filled with uncertainty, seems to break the daze everyone is in.
And like magic, the ladies spring into action.
“Frankie! Do you want to hear my new song?” Lily immediately holds out her hand. “If we go get your ukulele, I’ll play it for you. Come on, show me where it is.” She ushers Frankie out of the room, and I take a second to regroup.
This is my family, but I’m a stranger. A dead stranger. It’s a really weird feeling and probably the worst situation I’ve ever been in.
Banks just looks confused, like he can’t figure any of this out.
Royal seems more intrigued, like this is a puzzle for him to decode.
Atlas is mad, no doubt about that, his dark eyes nearly black as he studies me.
West looks like he wants to beat the crap out of me, which is equal parts funny and frustrating, because I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. I’m also not sure I could take him in my current condition.
But it’s Dash’s expression that guts me.
He’s so hurt that he wants to hurt me in return. Maybe not literally, but if Briar hadn’t stepped in, he would’ve taken a swing. And I deserve that and much more.
The ladies are more reserved, trying to figure out who I am and what I’m doing here, as if I’m the stranger and not them.
That part hits me the hardest.
I’ve become a stranger in my own family. These women I don’t know beyond what I could find online—they’re part of the family now. And I’m the outsider.
The baby on the counter starts to whimper, and Aspen immediately reaches for her, lifting her into her arms and cooing softly. Banks is instantly at her side, one hand on his daughter’s back, gently caressing.
“I’m going to take her outside.” She looks at Banks and they exchange some mystical couple ESP that ends with him giving her a tiny nod. “Jade, you coming?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jade nods after a similar exchange with Royal.
She grabs Willow’s hand and the ladies, with the exception of Briar, make a hasty exit, leaving the rest of us standing in the kitchen, the air thick with tension.
“Motherfucker, you have a lot of explaining to do!” Dash growls, glaring at me.
“This isn’t an episode of ‘I Love Lucy,’” I joke, trying to lighten the mood the only way I know how. “You don’t need to channel Desi and demand I do some ’splaining.”
“You seriously think this is funny?” West grits out, scowling.
“You need to leave,” I say dryly. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” West folds his arms across his chest, eyes narrowing, letting me know he’s not going anywhere.
Fuck.
This isn’t how I envisioned coming home. Seeing my friends.
I didn’t want things to be so complicated. But for some reason, it never occurred to me the guys would be married, involved, having kids. I definitely never imagined that I had a kid. That Briar and I made a baby.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
“Well?” Dash makes a hurry up motion with his hands. “You going to stand there like a sad dipshit or are you going to fucking explain?”
“It’s complicated,” I respond slowly. “I was on a mission. Then I got captured.” I glance at West. “Now I’m back.”
“You came straight to L.A.?” Atlas asks.
“After being debriefed and spending a week in the hospital.”
“Except you didn’t,” he says. “Because you were in Nashville, weren’t you?”
Shit. I forgot about that.
“Yeah, but…” This is so difficult to explain. “I didn’t realize what was going on until I got there. Once I figured out who Lily was, and it was the funeral for some big shot, I decided that wasn’t the right place for us to talk. I thought I should wait until we were all together.”
Atlas closes his eyes, his jaw working angrily, one fist clenched at his side. “You were in Nashville and didn’t…” Voice tense, body coiled like he’s ready to strike. “You know what? I’m out. Lily! Let’s go!” He turns and storms out the door without looking back.
Dammit.
“Atlas…” I want to follow but I don’t have the strength, and frankly, I don’t know what I’d say. Sorry about all this? It’s complicated…
“I didn’t know you guys thought I was dead,” I say, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I thought you’d be told that I was MIA or something, not dead. I wasn’t allowed contact while I was in training and then—”
“Training.” Dash meets my eyes, jutting out his jaw slowly.
“You took that job with the black ops center. The one they told us about in that security meeting, where if we were interested to let our COs know.” His face hardens.
“We talked about it, you asshole. We decided, together, that neither of us was interested.”
“I know.” God, I hate this part. “But then they came to me separately, told me I had a specific skill set and that…” I drop my gaze, because this part is hard. “...I didn’t have anyone waiting for me. No family to speak of. I was a perfect fit and—”
“No family?” Briar’s voice is a hushed whisper filled with disbelief.
“You’re serious.” Dash opens his mouth and closes it again. “We—you know what? I can’t do this right now.” Dash holds up a hand stopping me from saying anything as he calls to his fiancée. “Babe? Willow, we’re leaving.”
And like Atlas, he doesn’t wait for her, merely turns and walks out the door.
Good job, Colt. Alienating your brothers.
Exactly the homecoming you were counting on.
“He’ll be back,” Royal says after a moment. “He just needs a little time to digest it all. This probably hit him harder than the rest of us.”
“Why?” I ask in confusion, even though I already know the answer.
Banks cocks his head, staring at me like I’m an idiot. “You know he blamed himself, right? He still thinks that if he’d re-enlisted with you, it might not have happened. That he should have been there—wherever you were when you died—and had your back. Like always.”
Of course, Dash thought he could have prevented it. It would never cross his stubborn mind that he probably would have died with me, assuming we were on the same assignment.
Guilt and fury and shame course through my veins. “Fuck!”
I whirl, punching the wall with all the strength I have. The pain in my hand is intense enough to make me dizzy and I momentarily weave, needing to brace myself on the same wall I just tried to assault.
“Guys, please.” Briar’s voice is a whisper as she moves to my side, steadying me. “Can we all just go talk?”
“I don’t think—” I cut myself off because I’m not ready to talk about the details of my decision back then. Certainly not in front of a stranger like West.
But I owe it to them.
Certainly to Briar.
Especially since I absolutely despise the way West is hovering, watching—like a man who’s protecting his property. I can respect it, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to do everything in my power to make it stop.
Briar is mine.
Since the night she admitted she had feelings for me. The night she told me she wanted me to be her first, that she’d been waiting for me to make a move. When I didn’t, she took matters into her own hands.
I fell in love with her then and I still love her now.
No way in hell I’m letting some playboy hockey stud take her.
Although, if possession is nine-tenths of the law, I’m screwed.