Chapter 10
Ten
Colt
Watching Briar walk West out to his car is almost more than I can stand.
I think I’d rather have ten beatings than see the woman I love with someone else, but it’s not her fault.
He seems to care about her, treat her well, and I know damn well the guys wouldn’t let her date him if he wasn’t a good guy.
Too bad he’s with my woman.
There’s no universe where I don't move heaven and earth to win her back. It’s just going to take some time.
“Let’s get pizza,” Banks says after a moment. “I don’t think Briar is up to cooking.”
“Yeah, pizza’s a good idea.” I nod, watching as he pulls out his phone, starts typing, and then puts it away without asking any of us anything.
Because he knows what everyone likes.
“Pizza will be here in fifteen,” he says. “I hope you still like those disgusting little fish.”
“Anchovies require a mature palate,” I say primly.
He snorts. “That’s probably the only mature part of you.”
I chuckle but it’s not as funny now. Me being the jokester, the guy always causing trouble, the one nobody takes seriously.
“So, uh, you want to meet Maisie?” Banks asks quietly.
Maisie.
His wife? No, that’s Aspen. Maisie must be the baby.
“Well, yeah.” I nod.
“Let me go get her.”
While he does that, the rest of us head outside to a sprawling back patio, settling on the various chairs and couches.
They obviously spend a lot of time out here, and I smile, because this suits Briar’s personality well.
She’s a caregiver. She fell into that role as the only girl in our little family, and that much, at least, hasn’t changed.
Banks is back a minute later with a squirming little bundle in his arms—and promptly hands her over to me.
When was the last time I held an infant? I can’t even remember. I don’t do babies. Well, I made one, I guess, but I missed her whole life. Four long years of my daughter’s life. Never held her like this. Never comforted her when she cried or laughed when she giggled or—
Maisie looks up at me with eyes that are a cloudy blue color, curious but not afraid.
“Just support her head,” Banks says gently, most likely noticing my hesitant movements.
I’m fascinated by her, so small and innocent, but also powerfully important to my friend. I shift, adjusting her so we’re both a little more comfortable and it’s amazing how sturdy she is. She’s small and delicate but simultaneously hardy.
Another wave of regret.
Guilt.
Shame.
I missed all of this because I was selfish.
In the moment, I thought I was being altruistic, that they would understand as soon as I was done with training and could explain.
I didn’t want them to try to talk me out of something so dangerous, because it felt like that was my destiny.
Fighting for some theoretical cause that, in reality, means so much less than all of this.
Friends.
Family.
The incredible life they’ve built.
And I fucking missed all of it.
Dammit.
“Wow,” I breathe finally, continuing to stare into Maisy’s precious little face. “My best friend has a kid.” I look up at him. “She’s beautiful.”
He smiles. “She is.”
“And now there’s another on the way.” Royal’s voice makes us both look up, and he smiles. Jade’s on his lap and he has one hand splayed across her stomach.
“What the hell?” Banks asks, frowning. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We were going to announce it tonight. We wanted to wait until we were all together.”
“Congratulations.” Banks immediately holds out his hand and Royal smacks it with his since Jade is still on his lap.
“Congratulations,” I say, also extending my hand. It feels weird for Royal to smack it, our eyes meeting questioningly. Like we have to re-establish our bond. I guess that’s fair.
But it still pisses me off.
“I don’t think you’ve officially met Jade,” he says after a moment. “Colt, this is Jade Cantrell, the love of my life. Honey, this is Colt Blackwood. You probably know more about him than you should.”
She laughs. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Colt. I’d give you a hug, but superman here has a death grip on me. He seems to think pregnancy means I’m fragile.”
She has a light southern accent, bright blue eyes, and a great smile.
“I know your music,” I say, smiling back. “Believe it or not, Russian prison guards like American country music and Greek bouzouki. That’s their jam.”
“Russian prison guards listening to my music was not on my bingo card,” she says.
And we all laugh.
“And this is Aspen Rockwell, soon-to-be Christianson,” Banks says proudly.
“I was in no shape to plan a wedding while I was pregnant,” she says, grimacing. “But it’s wonderful to meet you. Banks has missed you.”
There’s another awkward silence and I try not to let them see me sigh.
There’s so much frustration inside me, practically screaming to get out, but I have to stay cool for now.
I’m not strong enough to get in a boxing ring yet—one of my favorite ways to release tension—and it feels like I have to tread carefully with the guys.
And where the hell is Briar? If she’s outside making out with West—
Nope. Can’t go there.
She has every right to be with whomever she wants to be with.
Even if it kills me to watch it.
“Before we eat.” Jade nudges Royal and he lets her up. She reaches into a bag I hadn’t noticed before, pulling out some kind of clothing. “We have T-shirts!”
“Let me see!” Aspen snatches one and then bursts out laughing. “Aw, I can’t wait to wear mine!” She holds it up against her chest and it says ‘World’s Best Auntie.’ The guys’ shirts say ‘World’s Best Uncle’ and they are pink and blue, respectively.
There isn’t one for me, of course, and I think Jade realizes that around the same time I do because her eyes meet mine apologetically.
“We’ll order one more,” she says softly.
I nod, because what else can I do?
“Pizza’s here,” Briar says, coming inside carrying three large boxes. “And one of them says ‘anchovies’ on the outside.” She gives me a disgusted look. “Seriously? Four years in prison didn’t cure you of this horrible habit?”
I blink for a moment, unsure if she’s serious but before I can respond everyone cracks up.
“Don’t blame me if your palate is less sophisticated than mine.” I shrug.
Banks gets up and takes the pizzas from her so she can set out plates and napkins for us.
“Frankie!” Briar yells into the house. “Time to eat.”
A minute later Frankie skips onto the patio and my heart squeezes. I’m still holding Maisie, who seems pretty content in my arms, and I can only imagine what it would have been like to hold Frankie at this age.
Did Briar think of me as she held her newborn daughter? Wishing I was there? Or was she angry at the way I left her? I still have so many questions and not nearly enough time to ask them.
“What are those?” Frankie asks, wrinkling her nose when Banks opens the box containing half of the pizza with everything.
“That’s called an anchovy,” I say. “You should try it. It’s really yummy.”
She screws up her face in disgust but leans forward to inspect it more carefully. “Is it…a fish?”
“A type of fish, yes. Hasn’t your mother introduced you to anchovies?”
“One bite to be polite,” Frankie murmurs, as if that’s something she’s said often.
“Go ahead, sweetie,” I say softly. “They’re good. A little salty. No bones or anything.”
Everyone freezes, watching in fascination as Frankie picks one of the anchovies off the pizza. Then she pops it into her mouth and begins to chew.
Briar’s eyes are wide, staring as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Everyone else has similar expressions, but mostly, I’m focused on my daughter. No one’s confirmed anything, but it’s pretty obvious. I’m just waiting for the right moment to ask Briar.
Frankie chews slowly, thoughtfully, and then swallows and cocks her head. “Very salty,” she says. “But not bad. Can I have a piece?”
“Sure.” I grin, turning to stick my tongue out at Briar.
“Mommy, can I have some juice with this? It’s yummy.” Frankie seems oblivious.
That’s my girl. Now there’s definitely no doubt she’s mine.
“Uh, sure.” Briar and Aspen hurry inside and I can hear them trying to disguise their laughter the minute they’re around the corner.
“Let me take the baby so you can eat,” Banks says, starting to get up.
“Nah, I’m good. She’s warm and cuddly and smells good. I like holding her.” I grab a piece of pizza with one hand and take a big bite, watching my daughter happily eating anchovy pizza.
My daughter.
Not being able to talk to Briar about this is driving me crazy, but since no one has said a word, some sixth sense tells me to tread carefully. Maybe they think Frankie doesn’t know? She most certainly guessed, if that’s the case. But Briar and I haven’t had a moment to confirm or deny it.
In spite of me living in her house, we haven’t had time to talk about many of the things I want to bring up.
“Colt?” Frankie looks up at me with guileless blue eyes.
“Yeah, honey?”
“Do you play Connect Four?”
Banks chokes on his pizza, chuckling.
I give him a strange look but then look down at Frankie. “It’s been a really long time, but sure. I played it a lot when I was a kid.”
“Good.” She gives me a smile I can’t quite decipher, kind of like Cinderella meets Lucifer—it would be disconcerting if it were anyone else. “We can play after dinner.”
“Okay?” I look at Banks, but he just laughs.
“Go with it,” Royal murmurs, clapping me on the shoulder before grabbing some pizza.
Pizza and Connect Four.
Not the way I pictured my return to the family, but it’s pretty cool, nonetheless. If I could just get Dash and Atlas to forgive me, everything would be great.
But something tells me that’s going to be a lot harder than anything else.