Colt (Venom Riders MC #2)

Chapter 1

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— Colt —

Seven years is a long time to hate someone.

Long enough for the rage to settle into your bones like an old injury that aches when the weather changes.

Long enough for the sharp edges of betrayal to dull into something chronic—a low-grade fever that never quite breaks.

Long enough to convince yourself you’ve moved on, that she doesn’t matter anymore, that the woman who destroyed you is nothing but a ghost.

And then you see her in the produce aisle at the supermarket, and all that careful distance collapses like a house of cards.

I’d stopped in Millfield’s only decent grocery store to grab beer for the clubhouse.

Dutch had called church for this afternoon, and Handful had somehow managed to drink through our entire stock over the weekend.

Normal errand. Routine shit. The kind of mindless task I could do on autopilot while my brain churned through the security protocols for the new Louisville territory.

I wasn’t expecting to see her.

But there she was, standing in front of the tomatoes like she hadn’t ripped my heart out and fed it to the wolves.

Like she hadn’t cleaned out our bank account while I was on a club run and vanished into thin fucking air.

Like she hadn’t vanished off the face of the earth seven years ago without so much as a goodbye.

Lilac.

My wife. My ex-wife. The woman I’d loved more than the open road and now hated just as much.

She looked different. Older, obviously—we both were.

Her dark hair was longer now, falling past her shoulders in soft waves instead of the pixie cut she’d had when we were together.

She’d put on a little weight, curves filling out the simple sundress she wore in ways that made my hands clench at my sides.

Still beautiful. Still the kind of woman who could stop traffic without trying.

Those curves. I knew them. Knew exactly how she looked when the sundress came off, the weight of her in my hands, the way she’d go from looking all soft and sweet to absolutely relentless without a second’s warning—

I killed the thought before it could go further. That wasn’t information I needed right now.

She was still the lying, cheating bitch who’d abandoned me without a word.

I should have left. Should have grabbed the beer and walked out before she noticed me. But seven years of unanswered questions rooted me to the spot, and before I could think better of it, I was moving toward her.

“Lilac.”

Her name came out harder than I intended—more accusation than greeting. She turned at the sound, and I watched confusion flicker across her face before settling into something I didn’t recognize.

Not guilt. Not fear. Just… blankness. Like she was looking at a stranger.

“I’m sorry?” She tilted her head, a polite smile forming on her lips. “Do I know you?”

Do I know you? Was she fucking serious? I’d spent years of my life with this woman. Made her my old lady. Married her. Planned a future with her. And now she was standing there asking if she knew me?

“Don’t play games with me.” I stepped closer, close enough to smell the vanilla perfume she still wore—the same goddamn scent that used to cling to our pillows. “Seven years, Lilac. Seven years since you walked out on me, and you’re going to pretend you don’t know who I am?”

Her smile faltered. “Sir, I think you have me confused with someone else. I don’t know you.”

“Mama?”

The small voice stopped us both. I looked down to find two boys emerging from behind the shopping cart—identical twins, dark-haired and staring up at me with matching expressions of suspicion.

They couldn’t have been older than six or seven.

So this was why she’d left. She’d gotten pregnant by some other man and rather than face me, she’d run.

Cleaned out our account to fund her new life with whoever had knocked her up.

My Death’s Head brothers had been right all along—she’d been cheating just like they said she had, and this was the proof.

This was confirmation of everything I’d believed for seven years.

“Mama, who is this man?” One of the boys stepped in front of Lilac, his small body positioned protectively between her and me. “Why is he talking to you like that?”

I looked at him. The set of his jaw. The way he planted his feet like he was ready to fight someone way bigger.

“I don’t know, baby.” Lilac pulled both boys close, her arms wrapping around them with the fierce instinct of a mother protecting her cubs. “I think he’s confused me with someone else.”

“Like hell I have.” The words came out rough, ragged. “So this is why you left? Got yourself knocked up by some prick and couldn’t face me?”

“Hey!” The protective twin—the one with fire in his eyes—stepped forward again. “Watch how you speak to my mama!”

His brother grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Luca, don’t—”

“He’s being mean to her, Knox!” Luca yanked free and planted himself directly in my path again. “You can’t talk to people like that! Grandma Betty says words can hurt just as much as fists, and you’re hurting her!”

I stared down at this miniature warrior, this tiny defender who’d positioned himself between a six-foot-two biker and his mother without a second’s hesitation. The kid had balls, I’d give him that.

“Luca, Knox—” Lilac’s voice was strained now, her face pale. “We should go.”

“Yes, you should.” I heard myself speaking like I was listening from a distance. “Before I say something I’ll regret.”

Lilac grabbed the cart with shaking hands and started to push past me. But she stopped when we were shoulder to shoulder. “I don’t know who you think I am,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you’re scaring my children. Please leave us alone.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Just pushed the cart toward the checkout lanes, both boys tucked close to her sides. I watched them go—watched Lilac walk away with her children and felt the last seven years of carefully constructed indifference shatter.

She was here, in Millfield. Living her life like she hadn’t destroyed mine.

And she’d looked at me like I was nobody.

I don’t remember driving to the clubhouse. Don’t remember parking or walking through the front door. The next thing I was fully aware of was Dutch’s voice cutting through the fog in my head.

“Colt. Brother. Talk to me.”

I looked up to find half the club watching me—Dutch directly in front of me, Holden and Glitch flanking him, Handful, already nursing another beer in the corner, was looking puzzled. Even Indira was there, perched on a stool at the bar with that sharp-eyed look she got when something was wrong.

“I saw her.” My voice came out strange. Hollow. “Lilac. At the grocery store.”

The room went dead silent. Then it erupted.

“What the fuck?” Handful slammed his beer down so hard it foamed over. “That cheating bitch has the nerve to show her face in Millfield?”

“After what she did to you?” Holden snorted. “She’s got some balls.”

“She had kids with her,” I continued, my voice flat. “Twins. Boys. Must be the other guy’s—proof she was already pregnant when she ran off, just like my brothers said.”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Dutch shook his head in disgust. “She destroys your life, runs off with another man’s babies in her belly, and now she’s here?” He shook his head again. “Bitch like that has no right to be in Venom Riders territory.”

Indira slid off her stool, her heels clicking against the concrete as she walked toward me. Her expression was tight with anger. “Colt, I’m so sorry. I know we don’t talk about it much, but what she did to you…” She shook her head. “No one deserves that kind of betrayal.”

It meant something, hearing that from Indira. She and I had always had a prickly relationship—I was too rough around the edges for her taste, and she was too quick to call me on my bullshit. But she was Dutch’s old lady, which made her family. And right now, family was closing ranks around me.

“That’s not the worst part,” I said. “She pretended not to know me. Asked if we’d met before. Like we weren’t married for three years, like I wasn’t—” I broke off, the rage choking me.

“Playing games,” Holden said darkly. “Trying to gaslight you.”

“Fucking with your head,” Handful agreed. “Classic female manipulator shit.”

Glitch had been quiet, his fingers flying across his laptop keyboard.

Now he looked up with a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You know, brother, I could make her life very uncomfortable. Parking tickets that never go away. Credit cards that mysteriously stop working. Bank account that drains itself dry.” He shrugged.

“She fucked with your life. I could return the favor. Make her regret ever messing with you.”

Part of me—the wounded, furious part—wanted to say yes. Wanted to watch her suffer the way I’d suffered. Wanted her to know what it felt like to have your whole world ripped away without warning.

But then I remembered the boys. The way they’d looked at me with fear in their eyes. The way the fierce one had planted himself between me and his mother.

Those kids hadn’t done anything wrong. They were innocent in all this. “No,” I heard myself say. “Not yet. I want to know why she’s here first. What she’s playing at.”

“Smart,” Dutch said, nodding.

“I can dig into her background,” Glitch offered. “Find out where she’s been, what she’s been doing. See if there’s anything we can use.”

“Do it.” I sank into my chair at the table, suddenly exhausted. “But keep it quiet for now. I don’t want her knowing we’re watching.”

Dutch stood and moved to the bar, pouring two fingers of whiskey and sliding it toward me. “Whatever you need, brother. She’s in our territory now. That means she plays by our rules.”

I took the whiskey and downed it in one burning swallow. It didn’t help. Nothing was going to help except answers.

The woman who’d destroyed me was back. And she’d looked at me like our entire relationship had meant nothing.

Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe I’d been a fool to ever think she loved me.

But I kept coming back to her face when I’d said her name. She’d always been a terrible liar—it was one of the things I’d loved about her. So why had she been so convincing today?

I pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. Whatever game she was playing, I was going to figure it out. And then I was going to make her pay for every single day of the last seven years.