Chapter 10
?
— Colt —
Ihadn’t slept much in a week. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. Lilac’s face when I’d grabbed her arm—the flash of pure terror. Luca’s tears as he swung at me, shouting that I was a bad man. Knox’s quiet fear as he tried to pull his brother back.
My wife. My sons. And I’d made them all afraid of me.
I’d been getting through the days the way you get through something you can’t undo—one hour at a time, barely functioning, going through the motions of eating and breathing and showing up.
My brothers had noticed. I could feel them treading carefully around me, keeping the clubhouse quiet, running interference so nobody came at me with anything I couldn’t handle. They hadn’t said much. Neither had I.
The morning Dutch finally came to find me, I was on what might have been my hundredth lap across the room, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to fix this.
“Betty called.” He set a cup of coffee in front of me. “Lilac’s agreed to see you.”
“When?”
“This afternoon. Betty’s place.” Dutch sat down across from me, his expression serious. “She’s not happy about it, brother. You’ve got a lot of ground to make up. We all do.”
I looked up at him.
“Don’t give me that look. We all followed your lead, Colt. Called her names. Cornered her on the street. Made her feel hunted in her own town.” Dutch’s jaw tightened. “We didn’t ask questions.”
“You didn’t know—”
“Neither did you. But we still did it.” He shook his head.
“Indira read me the riot act. Not about getting it wrong. About those boys standing there watching their mother get cornered by us and called names. She said it doesn’t matter what we believed someone did or didn’t do.
You don’t handle it like that in front of children. She’s right.”
I didn’t have an answer for that.
“So yeah.” Dutch leaned forward. “The club needs to make amends, brother. But this isn’t just about you apologizing. This is about proving to that woman—and those boys—that you’re not the man you’ve been acting like. That’s going to take time. Patience. A hell of a lot of eating crow.”
“I know,” I said again. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Dutch studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Indira’s coming with you.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you need someone who can keep you in check.” He held up a hand when I started to protest. “You’ve been running on anger and hurt for years, Colt. That’s not something you just turn off. Indira will make sure you don’t say or do something that makes things worse.”
I wanted to argue, but he was right. I didn’t trust myself right now. Not with this much at stake.
“Fine,” I said. “But I do the talking.”
“Obviously.” Dutch almost smiled. “Just try not to fuck it up.”
?
Betty’s house was a small ranch-style home on a quiet street, the kind of place where kids rode bikes on the sidewalk and neighbors waved from their porches. Normal. Safe. Everything I hadn’t been able to give Lilac.
Indira parked her car at the curb and turned to look at me. “Deep breaths,” she said. “And remember, you’re not here to explain yourself. You’re here to listen. Whatever she says, whatever she feels, you take it. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“And if those boys are there—”
“I won’t push.” The words came out raw. “I won’t do anything to scare them. I just want… I just want to see them.”
Indira’s expression softened slightly. “Let’s go.”
Betty answered the door before we could knock. She looked like she hadn’t slept either, lines of exhaustion carved into her face. But her spine was straight, her gaze steady.
“Colt.” She stepped aside to let us in. “Indira.”
“Thank you for arranging this,” Indira said smoothly. “I know it can’t be easy.”
“Nothing about this situation is easy.” Betty led us into a small living room where Lilac was waiting.
She was sitting on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap, like she was waiting for the worst. When she saw me, anger flickered across her face.
“The boys are at a friend’s house,” Betty said, settling into an armchair. “I thought it was better if they weren’t here for this.”
I nodded, even though part of me was disappointed. I’d wanted to see them. Wanted to look at their faces knowing the truth—that they were mine, had always been mine.
But Betty was right. This conversation was going to be hard enough without traumatizing them further.
Before I could speak, Lilac’s gaze moved to Indira. She’d been watching her since we walked in.
“Who is she?” Her voice was careful. Too careful.
“Lilac—”
“You brought her here.” Her eyes came back to mine, and the anger had a different texture now. “To this. You brought your girlfriend to talk to your ex-wife.”
For a moment I couldn’t find a single word. Fuck.
“I’m absolutely not his girlfriend.” Indira moved forward before I could dig myself deeper, hand outstretched.
“Indira. I’m married to Dutch—the Venom Riders president, the man who should have shut this whole situation down immediately and didn’t.
” Her voice was calm, unhurried, the kind that made the air feel like it had stopped moving just long enough to breathe.
“I’m here because Colt needed someone to keep him from saying something stupid under pressure.
Which, based on recent history, seemed like a sensible precaution. ”
Lilac looked at her for a long moment. Then she stood and shook Indira’s hand. “Lilac.”
“I know who you are.” Indira’s expression softened slightly. “I’ll stay out of the way. I’m just here to listen, and keep this one in line.”
The corner of Lilac’s mouth curved—small, involuntary. Gone almost before it appeared. She looked at Indira like she’d just decided she might be all right.
When she stepped back, Lilac’s gaze found mine again. The worst of the edge had gone out of it.
“I should have introduced her,” I said. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No.” The word was quiet. “I noticed.”
“Lilac.” I stopped a few feet away from her, keeping my distance. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about with an apology?” Her voice was steady, but I could see her hands trembling. “For terrorizing me and my children. For the things you said. The names you called me.”
“I am sorry.” The words felt inadequate, pathetically small against the weight of what I’d done. “I’m so goddamn sorry. There’s no excuse for how I treated you. None.”
“You’re right. There isn’t.”
“I know that.” I took a breath, fighting the urge to move closer.
“I spent seven years believing a lie. That you’d cheated, that you’d stolen from me, that you ran off without a word.
That you couldn’t even be bothered to stay to try to work things out or even just to say goodbye.
When I saw you again…” I shook my head. “All that anger came rushing back. I wasn’t thinking. I was just… reacting.”
“Reacting by telling me I’d gotten knocked up by some prick and couldn’t face you? By cornering me on a public street with your friends?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t try to defend it. Couldn’t. “I was wrong. Every time I opened my mouth, every cruel thing I said, I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”
Lilac was quiet for a long moment, studying me with those brown eyes I’d never forgotten. I wondered what she saw. The man who’d hurt her? Or something else underneath?
“Graham told me about before,” she said finally. “About who we were together.”
“What did he say?”
“That you were different with me. Gentle. Patient.” She tilted her head slightly. “I’m having trouble reconciling that with the man who grabbed me on the street.”
“I’m not asking you to reconcile anything.” I took a careful step forward, then stopped when I saw her tense. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or trust me or feel anything at all. I just want… I want a chance to show you I’m not that person. That the man you saw this week isn’t who I really am.”
She tilted her head. “How do you plan to do that?”
“However you’ll let me.” I spread my hands, trying to show I wasn’t a threat.
“If you want me to stay away, I’ll stay away.
If you want supervised visits with the boys, I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.
I’m not here to demand anything, Lilac. I’m here to ask. To beg, if that’s what it takes.”
Her expression changed. “The boys don’t know you’re their father,” she said. “I never told them because I didn’t know myself. Didn’t remember.”
“I understand.”
“They’re scared of you. Especially after what happened at the school.” Her voice hardened. “Luca cried himself to sleep that night. Kept asking why the bad man was so mean to me.”
I’d made my son cry. My son, who’d been brave enough to stand up to a biker to protect his mother.
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I’ll spend the rest of my life being sorry for that.”
Lilac watched me for another long moment. Then, slowly, she unclenched her hands. “You can meet them,” she said. “Properly. But not today. I need to prepare them first, explain that you’re… that you’re going to be around. And it has to be supervised. Betty or me, always present.”
I nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“And if you scare them again—if you raise your voice, if you grab me, if you do anything that makes them feel unsafe—”
“I’m gone,” I finished. “I understand. I won’t give you any reason to send me away.”
Lilac nodded slowly. “And the gang.” Her voice had gone careful again. “The motorbikes. The vests. Whatever it is you do. I don’t want my boys anywhere near any of it.”
“It’s not a—”
Indira’s hand came up. Flat. Unhurried. She didn’t even look at me.
I stopped.
She turned to face Lilac, her voice measured.
“They’re an MC. A motorcycle club. Not a gang—though I understand why it doesn’t look that different from the outside.
” She glanced toward me, gesturing at my cut.
“That’s called a cut, not a vest. Every member wears one.
It means something inside the club.” She turned back to Lilac.
“I’ll tell you something about myself. I’m from a very conservative family.
When my parents found out I was dating Dutch—not just a biker, but the president of the club—they were aghast. Genuinely horrified.
They had every assumption you’re having right now, and they were not quiet about it. ”
Lilac said nothing. But she was listening.
“He won them over,” Indira said. “Not by hiding who he was. By showing them who he actually was.” She let it settle.
“I’m not here to tell you the club is perfect.
The men can act like overgrown children sometimes—I say that with full love and zero illusions.
I’m not asking you to be comfortable with something you’re not comfortable with.
But it isn’t what you’re picturing right now, and your boys won’t be harmed by it. ”
Lilac looked at her for a long moment. “And you don’t have reservations? Living this life?”
“I chose it.” A quiet beat. “Eyes open.” She held Lilac’s gaze a moment longer. “And those boys will not be touched by anything that goes on at the club. No shenanigans, no drama, nothing they shouldn’t see. I’ll make sure of it personally. That is a promise.”
I stayed quiet. Now I understood why Dutch had insisted Indira come along.
Lilac stood, and for a moment I thought she was going to ask me to leave. Instead, she walked to the window and stood with her back to me, looking out at the street. “Graham said you fell apart when you found out the truth. About the boys.”
“Yes.”
“That you kept saying they were yours.”
My voice came out strangled. “They are. You are. Even if you don’t remember it.”
She turned to face me, and for just a second, her eyes held a look like some part of her remembered, even if her mind didn’t.
“I don’t know you,” she said. “I look at you and I see a stranger. But Graham says I loved you once. That we were happy.”
“We were.” I had to look away for a second before I could keep going.
“Lilac, we were so happy. If that night had never happened—I’d have knocked you up at least once more by now.
We’d have the house, the family we’d…” I stopped.
Couldn’t finish it. “I’m not going to pressure you.
I know you don’t remember. But you are my wife.
I just… I needed you to know that what we had was real. ”
“But I’m not.” Her voice was quiet, not unkind. “We’re divorced, Colt.”
The word hit me somewhere I wasn’t prepared for.
I knew it—of course I knew it, I’d seen the paperwork, I’d watched it happen from the wrong side of a lie I didn’t know was being told—but hearing her say it was different.
Hearing her say it like a fact she was simply handing me, like something obvious I needed reminding of.
I looked at her for a moment. “Yeah,” I said. “We are.”
I didn’t say anything else. There wasn’t anything to say that wouldn’t sound like an argument, and I didn’t want to argue.
I just wanted her to understand that a piece of paper didn’t change what she was to me.
What she’d always been. But she didn’t remember being that, and telling her wouldn’t make it real for her—it would only make me sound unhinged.
So I held it in.
She nodded slowly. “I’ll call you about the boys. When I’ve talked to them.”
“Thank you.” The words felt insufficient for the gift she was giving me—a chance to get to know my boys.
Indira touched my arm, signaling it was time to go. I let her guide me toward the door, but I stopped at the threshold and looked back.
Lilac was still standing by the window, arms crossed, watching me go. Seven years, and she still held herself the same way—like she was braced for whatever came next. Like she’d always been braced for it.
I turned and walked out before I did something stupid.