Page 44 of Colt
“And a half, nearly,” Luca finished.
I turned to Colt, who had the grace to look slightly guilty. “You told them that?”
“It came up.” He shrugged. “They asked about the bikes at the clubhouse.”
“And you thought promising them riding lessons without asking me first was a good idea?”
“I didn’t promise anything. I said I could teach them if their mama said it was okay.” He met my eyes steadily. “The decision is yours, Lilac. Always.”
The boys had gone quiet, sensing the tension. They looked between us with matching expressions of desperate hope.
I hated this. Hated being the bad guy, the one who said no to things that would make them happy. I’d been the only one making these decisions since they’d been born, weighing risks against rewards, trying to give them a good life while keeping them safe.
Now Colt was here, offering them something I couldn’t give. Something that lit up their faces in a way I couldn’t.
“It would be supervised.” Colt kept his voice level. “Age-appropriate bikes, helmets, full gear. We’d start slow, in a controlled environment. I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I can promise I’d die before I let them get seriously hurt.”
I thought about the past few weeks. Colt showing up every day, patient and steady. The way he’d handled Knox’s scraped knee—calm, competent, gentle. The way he’d talked Luca through the aftermath of the school fight, not excusing the violence but understanding where it came from.
I thought about how the boys had changed since he’d been around. Knox was more confident, less clingy. Luca was less angry, more willing to laugh. They were both lighter, somehow, like a weight had been lifted that I hadn’t even known they were carrying.
They neededthis. They neededhim.
I’d spent six years building walls around them and around myself, making every call alone, carrying every worry alone. Notbecause I wanted to, but because there was no other choice. There was no one else.
And now there was.
Even if it terrified me.
“Fine,” I said, and the boys erupted into cheers. “But,” I continued, raising my voice over their celebration, “there are rules. Helmets always. You do exactly what Colt says, when he says it. And if either of you gets hurt because you weren’t following instructions, that’s the end of it.”
“We promise!” Knox was practically vibrating. “We’ll be so careful, Mama. Super careful.”
Luca nodded vigorously. “We’ll listen. We will.”
I looked at Colt. “And you. If anything happens to them—”
“You’ll kill me. I know.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’d expect nothing less, Lil.”
The boys thundered out to the backyard, the screen door banging behind them. The kitchen went quiet.
Betty put down her dish towel and disappeared down the hallway without a word, which was as pointed as anything she could have said.
I took a breath. “You put me in a corner back there.” I kept my voice level. “It doesn’t matter that you said if mama says it’s okay. You’d already told them you could teach them. They knew what they wanted and they knew you wanted it. By the time I walked through that door, the only option for me was to say yes.” I looked at him. “That’s not a decision made together. That’s a decision made and then handed to me to rubber-stamp.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Didn’t try to argue it. “You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t think about it that way.”
“No, you didn’t.” I held his gaze. “Whatever we’re building here—whatever this is—that’s not how it works. Not with my boys.”
“Our boys,” he said.
It landed somewhere I wasn’t ready for it to land. “Our boys,” I agreed, after a moment. “Which means decisions get made together. Before someone gets to be the hero.”
He nodded once, slowly. Like he was filing it away. “I hear you.”
