Colson (The Henchmen MC #20) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,23

money is handled, everything else in life feels a whole lot easier to manage."

"Isn't that the damn truth," I said, sighing. "Maybe I should be a biker," I added, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Instincts like yours out there, I'd say they'd be lucky to have you. If they were forward-thinking enough to allow women to join."

"Damn patriarchy," I said, watching as a tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"How have things been?" he asked, taking a sip of the coffee that was still far too hot for me.

"You're involved in some sort of underground biker war, and you're asking me how I have been?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Single parenthood is its own kind of war," he said, shrugging.

"It's been alright. He confused my angry tears for sad tears, and has been feeling guilty. I am not above using guilt to my advantage when I need to."

"I'm glad things have been easier on you."

"I'm sorry they've been rough on you," I told him. "If you need me to check on your house or take in your mail, let me know. I'd be happy to."

"Your best bet right now is to pretend we've never met."

"Oh," I said, feeling a sinking sensation inside that I had no right to feel.

"You're not in danger right now," he clarified, confusing my lack of response for discomfort or fear. "If I thought you were, I would have people here to watch you. But anyone who knows anything about the Henchmen, knows that we send the women and children and close relatives away when the shit hits the fan."

"What? Do you like rent out that weird paramilitary camp or something? Oh, my God," I said, feeling the laugh bubble up. "You do? Seriously? I always thought they were some weird group set on taking over the government or something."

"They are, ah, let's just say they are a powerful group. And they are more than capable of protecting anyone who needs it. What?" he asked, reading a look on my face.

"It has just never really occurred to me how different the world is than I know. Paramilitary camps who protect the innocent. I mean, who would have guessed something like that existed?"

"I had no idea either, until I joined up with the Henchmen. And, to be fair, the only reason we know about that group is because one of my brothers is married to the leader of it."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Not blood brothers," Colson clarified, smiling. "Biker brothers. I have two siblings. Freddie and Thad."

"It's me and my brother Miguel. Though, we aren't exactly on speaking terms. You seem close with your sister, if she is staying with Jelly," I said, rushing to change the conversation away from my brother. He was a sore spot. And even though his choices were his alone, and by no means a reflection on me, I still somehow felt a strange embarrassment at being associated with him.

"We are. Freddie was away for a while, but once she came home, we have been tight. And Thad has practically been a second parent to Jelena."

"That's nice. I sort of had that with my mom. Before."

"How's your mom been?"

"She's okay. Status quo, so I can't complain."

"You can complain, babe," he corrected, shaking his head. "Your mom has dementia. Someone who you used to lean on now needs you to take care of them. That's not an easy adjustment. You're allowed to have complaints about that."

"She took care of me."

"Still," he said, shrugging. "No one is expecting you to have a stiff upper lip during all of this."

"So, what I'm hearing is that the next time I have an epic meltdown, you are offering to feed me mac & cheese and listen to be bitch for three hours," I joked.

"When all this shit is over, my door would be open to that, Eva," he told me, and the sincerity in his deep voice made my belly quiver.

"Colson." His sister's voice joined us in the kitchen, making me jolt, realizing I'd been staring at Colson like a creep. "Your daughter is insisting on picking through her entire wardrobe. I know you said we were on the clock."

"I'll go rush her along," Colson said, draining his coffee, then moving out of the room, giving me a look before he went. A look I wanted to analyze, but his sister wouldn't let me.

"I know my niece pretty well," she said, making her way to the coffee pot. "She seems to think something