Page 110 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

The air goes out of me.

She's got one hand raised, chin up, and she's smiling at me like no time has passed at all.

Ruby.

Chapter Forty Two

Colt

Mom?

My eyes lock on the woman standing near the back booth. I blink once. Then again. Still there. Eighteen damn years, and she is here. Like it’s not a big deal when it is a big fucking deal.

Jae’s hand lands firm on my shoulder, squeezing it slightly, but whatever he’s saying gets swallowed by the blood pounding in my skull. Everything’s too loud and too tangled to make sense of what the fuck is going on, but before my brain can catch up, the anger hits fast and hard. Like a fist straight to the gut, taking the air clean out of my lungs.

Maeve steps into my line of sight, those bright blue eyes finding mine, bringing a sense of calm that cuts through the panic faster than anything could. Stopping the simmering panic attack from boiling over.

“Colt.” She says, simple and steady. Just what I need in this moment.

I drag in a breath sharp enough to hurt my ribs as they expand. I just about manage to give her a small smile, but over her shoulder I catch sight of Wade still standing on the stage. He looks as blindsided as me, though he isn’t the kind of man who falls apart like I do. No, he just stands there. Jaw locked so tight I can see the muscles ticking from across the room, eyes fixed on Mom with the same hollow look he wore the night she left. I haven’t forgotten that look, mainly because I spent years believing it was a look of someone heartless, who didn’t care—I was wrong.

Gina moves fast, lifting the mic back to her lips. “Guys, we’re gonna take a quick intermission—”

The crowd groans, but recovers as soon as the music starts again, clueless of how my world has just been turned upside down.

Moms settled herself into a booth at the back. There’s something theatrical about the way she sits. Spine straight, one hand resting delicately on the table, dressed for something far fancier than this honky-tonk bar. But even from this distance, I can see what the years of drug abuse have done to her.

She’s slim, far slimmer than I remember her. Her face is hollow enough that her cheekbones cut sharp beneath her skin, and she looks more bone than flesh. Her fingers keep moving too, thumb scraping along the side of her hand over and over again, like she can’t stay still.

I thought seeing her again would bring happier feelings, but instead there is only grief. Grief for the version of her I carried around in my head all these years. The woman who I thought would eventually come back for me. Reality is, she ain’there for me. For the son she abandoned. The only reason she can be here for are the divorce papers.

Wade moves, stepping off the stage and crossing the bar in long strides that eat the distance fast. Everything about him is tight—shoulders rigid, hands hanging at his sides with clenched fists. He stops beside her booth and points sharply toward the front door.

Mom rises slowly, wobbling slightly in her heels before following Wade outside, one hand catching the edge of the booth to steady herself.

I’m moving before I’ve decided to. I need answers.

“Colt—”

Jae is right behind me, his boots clacking against the floorboards. Maeve’s softer step follows a beat later.

I shove through the front doors into the cold air. The Lone Coyote sign buzzes overhead, washing the parking lot in red and amber light. Music thumps faintly through the walls behind us, muffled now beneath the tension hanging thick outside.

The second I step outside, both Wade and Mom look over. Mom wears that same unsettling calm she had inside, like she isn't standing in the middle of a bomb she's already lit.

Wade is the complete opposite. He looks like he is ready to come out of his skin, so wound up that I can practically see the steam radiating from him. But the moment his eyes land on me, it all disappears. Turning back into the solid, steady, and unshakeable man I’ve grown up with most of my life.

Only now I'm close enough to see it for what it really is—a mask.

“You need to leave, Ruby.” Wade demands, voice low and controlled.

“No.”

“Whatever it is you want, we’ll deal with it through the lawyers.”

Her mouth curves slightly. “Oh, so you do know why I’m here.”

Wade says nothing, but the flush climbing up the back of his neck onto his face says everything.