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Coles His Club Voted Her Out: A Secret Baby Second Chance MC Romance at Village Green Shopping Centre in Vernon, BC
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They took a vote on my life.
I wasn't in the room.
Fourteen years I wore his ring.
Fourteen years I stitched up his brothers on my kitchen counter. Buried their dead. Cooked for their mothers. Kept my mouth shut about every single thing I saw in that house.
Then church let out on a Tuesday night, and my husband walked into our kitchen and couldn't look at me.
The club decided I was a liability.
And Colt — President of the Iron Oath MC, the man who swore he'd burn the world down for me — said nothing.
Not one word.
So I packed a duffel bag and I drove six hundred miles, and I took a secret with me that I hadn't told a living soul.
Murfreesboro doesn't know what my husband is.
Nobody here knows what a cut means. Nobody asks questions. I've got a job at a diner, a name on a lease that isn't his, and a porch step that's about to break.
I was building something clean.
Then I heard pipes on my street.
He's sitting on my curb in the cold. He says he's not leaving. He says he'll sleep in that truck all winter if that's what it takes. He says he made the worst mistake of his life in a room full of men who were supposed to be his brothers.
He's four months too late.
And the contractor who fixed my porch — the one who remembers how I take my coffee, who has never once made me afraid, who kneels down and asks a woman what she wants instead of deciding for her —
He's asking me to choose.
One of them broke me.
One of them is trying to build me back.
I already know which one I love.
That's the problem.
They took a vote on my life.
I wasn't in the room.
Fourteen years I wore his ring.
Fourteen years I stitched up his brothers on my kitchen counter. Buried their dead. Cooked for their mothers. Kept my mouth shut about every single thing I saw in that house.
Then church let out on a Tuesday night, and my husband walked into our kitchen and couldn't look at me.
The club decided I was a liability.
And Colt — President of the Iron Oath MC, the man who swore he'd burn the world down for me — said nothing.
Not one word.
So I packed a duffel bag and I drove six hundred miles, and I took a secret with me that I hadn't told a living soul.
Murfreesboro doesn't know what my husband is.
Nobody here knows what a cut means. Nobody asks questions. I've got a job at a diner, a name on a lease that isn't his, and a porch step that's about to break.
I was building something clean.
Then I heard pipes on my street.
He's sitting on my curb in the cold. He says he's not leaving. He says he'll sleep in that truck all winter if that's what it takes. He says he made the worst mistake of his life in a room full of men who were supposed to be his brothers.
He's four months too late.
And the contractor who fixed my porch — the one who remembers how I take my coffee, who has never once made me afraid, who kneels down and asks a woman what she wants instead of deciding for her —
He's asking me to choose.
One of them broke me.
One of them is trying to build me back.
I already know which one I love.
That's the problem.
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