Chapter 19
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— Colt —
Holden was already working when I got to the clubhouse.
He had a map spread across the end of the bar—a real one, paper, county roads marked in a second color and three routes traced in different pens.
His beer was pushed aside, untouched. Folder open beside him, pen in hand, making a note in the margin when I came in.
I poured a coffee and walked over.
“Louisville,” he said, without looking up.
“Primary?”
He traced the first route with the capped end of his pen—a two-lane state road running south of the interstate.
“Keeps us off the weight stations. Adds forty-five minutes but we’re not stopping to explain a cargo escort to a DOT officer.
” He moved to the second line. “Secondary if we get movement on the main corridor. Tertiary’s emergency only—bad road through Bullitt County, but it doesn’t exist on any scanner. ”
I looked at the third route. He’d written in the margin next to it: dead zone, 12 min @ speed — Glitch.
“Already ran it by Glitch?”
“Yesterday. He’s setting up a repeater. Thirty-second delay on comms but we’ll have coverage.” He made another note. “Contact’s facility is here—” he tapped the spot “—first distribution site. Off highway, industrial park. Quiet.”
“How long on-site?”
“Four hours.” He said it the way he said most things—like the number was settled. “You’re assessing three buildings’ worth of security gaps and writing a preliminary scope for a client who already has opinions about what he needs. Four hours is conservative.”
He was probably right. Usually was, about things he’d spent days thinking about.
“So the boys are seeing a therapist now?” He asked it with the quiet, specific interest he gave things he’d already filed and was now following up on.
“Play therapy,” I corrected. “It’s different.”
“Right. Play therapy.” Holden took a pull of his beer. “Bea’s good at what she does. I’ve known her for years. Dutch brought her in to help Glitch way back when.”
“Betty recommended her.”
“Smart woman, Betty.” He shrugged. “Bea gets the life. Doesn’t ask questions she knows we can’t answer. That’s rare in someone outside the club.”
I could hear it when he talked about her—something beyond professional respect. I’d noticed the way he watched her at club events, the way he always seemed to know when she was in the room.
“You ever think about asking her out?” I asked.
“I have. Multiple times. She keeps saying no. Something about professional boundaries and ethics.” He took another pull of his beer. “Can’t really blame her. Dating a client’s brother would complicate things.”
“She’s not treating you, though.”
“No. But she’s treated half the club at this point.” He was quiet for a moment. “The boys are good kids, Colt. Smart. Resilient. Whatever happened to them before, they’re going to be okay.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. They’ve got you now. And Lilac. And Bea, who apparently thinks they’re the most adorable kids she’s ever worked with.” Something softened in his expression. “Said Luca reminds her of me—too serious for his own good.”
I laughed despite myself. “She’s not wrong.”
Dutch appeared in the doorway. “You two ready?”
We were. The others filtered into church behind us—Handful still mid-conversation with someone in the common room, Glitch with his laptop already under his arm.
Dutch took his seat at the head. Me on his right.
Holden and Handful across from me. Glitch at the far end, screen already open. Just like always.
Holden spread the map on the table.
He walked them through it clean—primary route, secondary, tertiary.
Same thing he’d walked me through, only faster.
No detours between the easy parts and the complicated ones.
He pointed to the dead zone notation and nodded at Glitch, who confirmed the repeater solution without looking up from his screen.
“First facility only,” Holden said. “We assess, Colt writes the preliminary scope, we come home. Two nights.” He looked at Dutch. “Once we have the baseline on the first site, the other two go faster.”
Dutch looked at me. “You ready to move on this?”
I’d been asked that before. Months ago, in this same room, with that same neutral tone. He’d told the table Louisville moved when I was ready, and nobody had argued. The club had just waited.
That wasn’t nothing.
Things weren’t perfect. Lilac still didn’t have her memories back.
The boys were still working through things I couldn’t fix with presence or promises alone.
But we were somewhere different than that afternoon outside the school when I’d stood on that sidewalk with my brothers and acted like a fucking idiot.
But she was letting me show up now. The boys were asking to come back to the clubhouse.
And Dutch would make sure all three of them were looked after while I was gone—Lilac, Luca, Knox.
I didn’t have to ask for it. I didn’t have to spell it out.
That was just how it worked when you had brothers worth having.
“Ready,” I said.
“End of next week.” Dutch looked around the table. “This is what the Montana runs built—the contracts, the legitimate wing, everything we’ve been working toward. We move on Louisville clean.” He closed the folder. “Questions?”
Handful had already turned to a second page. Nobody spoke.
Dutch nodded once. That was it.
Men started moving for the door.
I stayed in my chair.
The boys were getting help. And Lilac too. That was good—no, that was fucking necessary. But therapy meant digging into the past. It meant asking questions about what haunted their dreams.
What happened when those questions led back to the Death’s Head clubhouse? Back to the night that had stolen Lilac’s memories?
I looked up. Dutch was still at the head of the table, watching me with that knowing look he got when he could read every thought running through my head.
Yeah. We weren’t out of the woods yet. Not even close.