Colson (The Henchmen MC #20) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,32
down between my shoulder blades, just a firm presence for a second before it started moving in a slow circle. "You just have some shit going on," he added, and I could practically hear the shrug in his voice.
Some shit.
That was an understatement.
But maybe to an arms-dealing biker single dad, my issues weren't that crazy in the grand scheme of things. I mean, his daughter and sister were hiding out chaperoned by a body guard because of whatever was going on in his world, in his life, at the moment.
"You can just send him out here," I suggested, trying to rein it in, even as my eyes filled once again. "You don't have to be nice to me. You've done enough for me in the past week to last a lifetime."
"If you think that, then people have been real shitty to you, babe."
To that, I snorted through my tears. "I have no people," I admitted. "I have my mom and my son."
"No friends or family?"
"When would I have time for friends?" I asked, wallowing, and I didn't even care. "And my family has always been small," I added, made smaller still by Miguel's refusal to be a part of it. Aside from attempting to corrupt my son, that is.
"You gotta have someone on your side. Helps make the rough patches a little more tolerable," he told me, and I could feel a hole in my chest, knowing he was right, knowing my mother had once been that person for me, and that I had been scrambling ever since her own mind turned on her. "So I'm gonna sit here. I'm gonna be that person."
"You don't need to pity me," I objected, squeezing my eyes closed tight.
"I don't pity you," he corrected. "I know how it feels to be down, Eva. I sympathize. That's it," he added, his hand starting to move up and down along my spine. The motion was meant to be comforting. And it was that. But it was more than that as well. A small sizzle of desire pinged off my nerve endings.
It wasn't long before the memories of his kitchen were flashing across my overworked, exhausted brain, filling it—and my body—with all kinds of ideas.
But I knew better.
There was nothing less sexy than a bawling woman.
"Hey," Colson said, his arm snaking around my shoulders, pulling me sideways over the center console, tucking my face in toward his neck. "Let me in," he demanded, arm tightening.
God, I wasn't even sure how long it had been since I felt a man's arm around me, since I knew that comforting weight, since I could rest on a strong chest, since I could feel safe there.
"You barely know me."
"I know enough to know I'd like to know more. Talk to me," he demanded.
"I want to throat-punch my brother for getting Jacob interested in gang life. Like it is a career path to aspire to. And I'm at a loss at how to stop him from sneaking out at night. The guilt only worked for a few days and I'm worried that the more I try to use it, the less effective it will be. And my mom. If I don't have Jacob there at night, what am I supposed to do about my mom? There just seems to be no good answer that doesn't involve hiring someone I can't afford."
"What about Jacob's father?" Colson asked, tone hesitant, maybe knowing how touchy that subject could be.
In my case, though, it wasn't. "Jacob's dad was my high school sweetheart. We went three long years without a pregnancy scare. And then there was a missed period and a dozen pee sticks. And irrefutable evidence of Jacob's existence.
"Rob was never a bad guy. It just didn't work out. When he was still in Navesink Bank, he saw Jacob on the weekends, though he never took him overnight. But then he went away to college. And he decided to stay there. It's not far. Just over an hour from here. But Jacob was resentful that he left, doubly so when Rob married.
"Then compile that with the kids he eventually had. Rob tries, but Jacob isn't receptive right now. Rob would take him. If I decided I needed to get Jacob out of town until he grows up a little, Rob would take him. But Jacob would never forgive me. And, quite frankly, even as much as a pain in the ass as he is being lately, I can't imagine not having him around."