Page 58 of Oathbreaker

What if I don’t trust myself?

Eighteen

Colt

The last week has felt like a God damn eternity.

Living with Briar but not being able to touch her, be with her the way I want to, is a whole other level of torture. What makes it harder is the gap between me and the boys. Banks is fine, just busy with the team. Royal is okay too, but I feel the emotional distance between us because, no matter how we try to mask it, it’s not the same.

I’m not the same and none of them are the same, so it was stupid of me to come back hoping it would be.

Things will shift back into some semblance of normal—whatever the fuck that is. It’s just going to take time and I’ve already lost so much, it’s hard to have patience. But I need to. Both because my family is important and because I’m not giving up on Briar. She might be dating West but there isn’t a whole lot going on right now. No sleepovers, no trips, no sweet, romantic phone calls. Nothing.

Not that I’m privy to her private conversations, but she’s either home or at work. A lot. And I know for sure she’s not sleeping at his place. If I were him, and she were mine, there isn’t a chance in hell I’d be keeping a polite distance while she lives with another guy. No, there’s more going on here and I’m not giving up until I’ve proven to her that I’m the man she’s always wanted me to be.

Tonight, we’re going to a Vipers game.

All of us.

Frankie has been talking about it non-stop. Uncle Atlas’s private box. How Auntie Lily and Auntie Jade sometimes sing the National Anthem. How baby Maisie gets to go too, with special little headphones to protect her from the noise. It’s adorable, if not a little exhausting.

“She’s at that age,” Briar murmurs as we get to the arena and park in a VIP section. Frankie has barely stopped talking long enough to take a breath or let us answer her questions.

“All day?” I ask with a faint grimace.

She chuckles. “Sometimes.”

I nod. “You think we could buy her something to eat?”

She laughs. “That will work for about ninety seconds.”

I scoop Frankie up as we walk toward the entrance, a little annoyed that she’s wearing West’s jersey, but that’s the least of my worries. According to Briar, she has five jerseys, and she rotates through them, including two of Banks’s, a generic away jersey, and West’s. Must be nice to be four and have friends and family who are professional hockey players.

“There’s Uncle Banks!” she yells as we walk down to the ice.

Banks grins in her direction, nudges West and another guy on the team, Magnus Forsberg, and they head for the glass. West scoops up a puck, points to Frankie and tosses it over the glass. I lift her higher so she can grab it, and she holds it to her chest like she just reached the pot of gold at the end of the fucking rainbow.

“Yay!” She wiggles in my arms, pressing one hand against the glass and grinning at West, who grins back.

Fuck. Me.

I hate every second of this, but I have to tamp down the anger and jealousy and frustration and allow my daughter to revel in the attention—and the love. I don’t care who it comes from, love is love, and all kids need it in spades. God knows, I didn’t have a single iota of it after I lost my dad.

After a few minutes of the guys making faces at her and joking around, we finally head toward the elevators that lead to the private boxes. Briar has to show a special pass just to get on, and an attendant takes us up there.

It’s quieter up here, yet no less exciting, and the moment we get to Atlas’s box Frankie wriggles out of my arms and runs to him.

“Uncle Atlas—look!” She holds up her puck and Atlas leans down to scoop her up.

“That’s cool,” he says solemnly. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have one of those. Not even Uncle Banks’s.”

She frowns, and then holds it out. “Would you like it?” she asks softly. “Uncle West can give me another one.”

“Oh, baby, no. That one is yours.” His face softens and he presses a kiss on her forehead. “If I really wanted one, I’d ask Uncle Banks.”

She wraps her arms around his neck. “But I want you to have one too!”

“That’s sweet, honey.” He hugs her tightly, his eyes closed, as if this little girl is the only thing in the world that matters.