Maya Banks - Colters’ Lady

Charles held out his hand. “No, not yet, Lily. Tell me, please. Are you still living on the streets? You have to let me help you. It’s what I owe you. You should have gotten half of everything in the divorce settlement.”

Some of her anger eased, replaced by deep sadness. They’d both spent the last three years torturing themselves. Fraught with guilt and anger. And grief.

“I don’t anymore,” she said quietly. “I don’t live here in Denver. I merely came because in order for me to move on and to have a life, I had to confront my past. If it helps you, I forgive you. But I’ve learned in recent weeks that seeking forgiveness from others is meaningless unless you can forgive yourself.” He stared bleakly at her, his eyes filled with so much regret that it hurt her to look at him. “I want you to be happy, Lily. You deserve better than I ever gave you. I like to think I’m a better man now. I don’t work as much. I’m here for Catherine and the kids. But I’ll never be able to change the past, and I can’t bring our daughter back.”

Tears crowded the corners of Lily’s eyes. “No, there’s nothing either of us can do to bring her back.

Perhaps what is more important is that there was nothing that either of us could have done to save her.”

“Are you happy now, Lily? Are you going to be all right? Can you move on?” For the first time since she’d arrived, a glimmer of a smile tingled at her lips. “Yes, I’m happy. It’s taken me three years, but I’m going to be okay. I have people who love me. Family.”

“I’m glad,” he said simply. “But promise me something. Promise me that if you ever need anything, anything at all, that you’ll call me or come to me. There’s nothing I won’t do to help you. Ever.” Lily stood shakily to her feet. She stared at the man who’d once been her husband. It was odd, really.

He felt like a stranger to her. Before she’d arrived, she’d worked all of the grief and guilt into rage and fury. But now it all settled down and all she felt was an abiding sadness for all the things that couldn’t be changed.

“I appreciate the offer. I do. And I appreciate you telling me everything you told me today. My hope is that we can both let go now and be happy.”

Charles nodded. “Take care, Lily.”

She turned and started toward the door, Charles trailing behind her. When they arrived in the kitchen, Catherine looked up anxiously from where she was feeding the two children.

Lily paused for just a moment as she stared at the two darling babies. “You have beautiful children,” she said huskily.

Catherine looked like she wanted to cry, but she gave a shaky smile and said, “Thank you.” Then she looked to the toddler, the daughter. “Her middle name is Rose. Charles insisted.” For a moment Lily couldn’t speak around the knot in her throat. “It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl,” she finally managed to get out.

Then she turned and hurried for the front door, desperate for air and desperate to get back to the comfort of people who loved her.

As soon as she hit the sidewalk, the tears started streaming down her cheeks. She walked faster, not yet wanting to get a cab. She needed to breathe, needed to free herself from the ache that swelled in her chest.

She’d done it. She’d faced him down, only it hadn’t given her quite the satisfaction that she’d imagined. He’d suffered too. Was still suffering. And she knew what that was like, the awful guilt, the knowledge that you’d made mistakes—irreparable ones.

But she’d said the words aloud. He was wrong. And it had vindicated her when he’d admitted that yes, he was wrong. But the victory was hollow because at the end of the day, two people had lost a precious child, and it had destroyed a piece of both of them in the process.

She gathered her arms and crossed them in front of her, tucking her hands into the bends of her elbows. And she walked further, just wanting to clear away the lingering anguish.

She was free now. She could embrace her life with the Colter brothers. She had faced her fears and come out whole. Or at least not as shattered as she’d been. Healing. She was healing. And it might not be tomorrow or the next day or even the next year, but one day, she’d be able to think about Rose without the searing agony and the unbearable weight of despair.

Maybe it was her subconscious at work, because she hadn’t set out to walk to the graveyard where Rose was buried. She hadn’t even known that she was going in that direction. But when she looked up, she saw the iron gates that guarded the children’s cemetery.

She stopped several feet in front of the opening and simply stared at a place she hadn’t seen since the awful day when they’d put her in the ground.

She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Courage. Once she would have said she had none, but lately, she’d found it with increasing frequency. Life was about finding courage to live each day and to face obstacles head-on.

She walked slowly and nearly on tiptoe down the winding pathway. She searched her memory for where exactly Rose had been buried. So much of that time was a blur. She closed her eyes again and this time went back in time to the day. Rose had been buried in the shelter of a huge cottonwood tree, the branches sprawling over many graves as if gathering the little angels in its arms.

She looked up and saw the tree a short distance away. She swallowed and walked at a more determined pace until she searched out the headstone with Rose’s name.

“Rose Weston. Beloved daughter. You were mine, and now you’re His. May He take you on the wings of angels back home where you belong.”

She’d written the inscription herself and until now hadn’t allowed herself to even think it much less recite it aloud.

She raised her face to the sun. “I love you, baby,” she whispered. “I don’t regret a single moment I had with you. You’ll always be my angel girl.”

Peace descended and the area went quiet. Warmth enveloped her and wrapped her in its steady embrace. The sun’s rays streamed through the big tree branches that shielded the graves from the weather.

She looked down again and then knelt to touch the cool marble.

“Goodbye,” she whispered. “I never said it before. I couldn’t. But goodbye, my sweet baby girl.” She rose and turned swiftly away, walking at a brisk pace from the graveyard. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve and began to scour the street for a cab. Holly and Callie would worry. She’d been gone longer than she’d anticipated.

She only had to walk two blocks before she hailed a cab. She leaned against the seat, eyes closed as they made the journey back to the hotel.

She was exhausted. Mentally and physically wiped. But she was lighter than she’d ever been. She couldn’t wait to get back home to her men. She had a marriage proposal to accept.

“Where the fuck is she?” Dillon asked as he paced back and forth in the living room. “I don’t buy that garbage about her and Mom and Callie being on a goddamn shopping trip and having a lark of a time in Denver.”

Michael nodded silently.

Even the cat seemed to miss Lily. She paced back and forth between the living room and the front door as if expecting Lily to burst through at any moment. Michael reached down and idly scratched her ears when she issued a plaintive meow.

“You were a goddamn cop up there, Seth. Can’t you call some of your buddies and have them check in on the women?” Dillon asked.

Seth laughed. “Uh no. They’d kill us. Mom wouldn’t speak to us for a year, and Callie would just kick our ass.”

“Aren’t you in the least worried?” Michael demanded.

Seth sighed. “Of course I am. But she asked for time. She asked for our trust. We have to be willing to give her both. She’ll come back to us.”

“I’m not worried about her coming back to us,” Dillon growled. “I’m worried about what she’s off doing alone because she thinks she needs to do it. Alone.” The sound of the front door opening penetrated the air. The men swung around, and there was Lily standing in the doorway, her gaze locked on them.

There was subtle wariness in her expression, but at the same time there was a stillness and quietness to her spirit that had been absent before.

Seth sucked in his breath. It was going to be okay. Relief crushed him. As much as he’d said to his brothers about having to give her space, he’d been as worried as they had been.

“Lily,” Michael breathed a mere second before he strode across the room and swept her into his arms.

She reacted with just as much emotion and wrapped herself around Michael, holding tight to him. She closed her eyes and buried her face into his chest as Michael stroked his hand over her hair.

Dillon only gave Michael a moment before he tugged Lily from Michael’s arms and into his own. He cradled Lily protectively in his beefy embrace, his expression tender.

“Where have you been, sweetness?”

Lily stirred and then turned her blue eyes on Seth. He itched to hold her, but he waited as she carefully extricated herself from Dillon’s hold and then came to him in a rush.

He closed his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent he identified as uniquely Lily.

“Welcome home,” he murmured.

She raised her head and smiled so brilliantly at him that he was dumbstruck.

“It’s good to be home,” she whispered.

“Where did you go?” Dillon repeated. “Are you all right?” She turned to face the others, remaining cradled in Seth’s arms. “I went to see Charles.” Seth stiffened while Dillon swore and Michael’s face grew stormy.

She leaned back and smiled. “I have something to show you.” She was definitely keeping them off balance. Maybe it was intentional to get their focus off the fact that she’d visited her ex-husband alone and without them being there to protect and support her.

Emotionally and physically, but emotionally most of all.

She broke away from Seth and stood in the middle of the room at equal distance from the three men.

She smiled when the cat did a figure eight through her legs, rubbing and purring her welcome. Lily bent long enough to pet the cat’s sleek body before rising again to focus on the matter at hand.

“There were two reasons I went to Denver. I spent all week trying to create on paper what was in my head.”

Her fingers tucked into waist of her jeans and slid around to unbutton the fly. Then she unzipped her pants and wiggled carefully until they slid over her hips, revealing a freshly inked tattoo.

She presented her hip in silence, her fingers brushing lightly over the design.

Dillon strode over and feathered his hand over the tat. Michael and Seth followed, straining to see over Dillon.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked huskily.

Michael traced the caduceus with his fingertip. “It’s us,” he said in wonder. “All of us. This is you, Seth,” he said pointing to the shield. “And you, Dillon,” as he traced the sword. “And Lily here, in the center.”

“This is fierce,” Dillon said, admiration thick in his voice. “Did you design it? Is this what you were working on that you wouldn’t let us see?”

She flushed. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I mean I wasn’t hiding my work because I was ashamed or didn’t think you’d approve. I wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s amazing,” Dillon said sincerely. “It’s beautiful ink, Lily. Did Callie go with you?” Lily nodded. “I didn’t want to go by myself. I asked her and your mom to go with me.” Dillon nodded approvingly. “Callie would have taken you to a good place. I’d have been pissed if you’d wandered into the first shop you came across and trusted them to do the job.”

She pulled her jeans back up and refastened them, and then stared at them, her eyes shiny and light.

There was a freshness to her gaze, and it was then Seth realized the shadows were gone. The vague unhappiness. The hint of pain. She was vibrant.

“I went to see Charles because I wanted to confront him,” she said. “After what happened last week, I spent days thinking about it and with each day I grew angrier and angrier. It ate at me until I knew that if I didn’t confront my past, I could never move beyond it and it would always hold me. And then you asked me to marry you.”

She smiled at each of them, her eyes soft with love. “I wanted to shout yes. I wanted to more than anything, but I also knew that it wouldn’t be fair to you or to me if I committed before I tackled the issue of my past.”