Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)

“Well then, you know that since I was with such creatures, no one was looking at a mere mortal like myself,” I joked.

Zane froze and suddenly he was on top of me, pinning me down with his body. Totally wasn’t complaining. “We’re together, you don’t say shit like that,” he clipped, sounding pissed.

“Like what?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Like shit that suggests you’re any fuckin’ less than drop dead fuckin’ gorgeous, that you shine as bright as a fuckin’ supernova, whoever you’re with,” he said, his rough, cold voice not matching the warm words.

I jolted. I didn’t expect his rage at my offhand comment and the fact he thought I was gorgeous. He didn’t put a paper bag over my head when we had sex so I knew he didn’t think I was ugly, but the ferocity in which he just uttered that statement had me thrown.

He stroked my cheek lightly, his hand moving to play with my hair. “Beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself.

It was like he was some kind of werewolf. But instead of the moonlight turning him into a monster, it made the monster melt away, revealing the man underneath.

Then there it was, the sunlight. Not literally; the moon still shone through the window. But like a switch, something turned the light back on. I knew it. Even through my residual drunkenness. His eyes hardened and he moved off me.

“You need to go now babe,” he declared, voice flat.

I lay there, perplexed and more than a little peeved. And the peeved part was to hide the hurt part. “Seriously?” I almost whispered. I was pissed I couldn’t inject more anger into the statement. It sounded weak, defeated.

“You know what this is,” Zane said simply, looking at the ceiling.

I let that sink in for a second. I nodded. “Yeah. I know what this is,” I lied, moving from the bed.

I had no fucking clue what this was. I didn’t know what being fucked with a ferocious intensity beyond anything I’d ever imagined was. I didn’t know how a man could be so callous, yet tender in the space of minutes. How he could seem to look into the deepest broken parts of me and make me feel bare and raw? How he could make me feel safe and ashamed at the same time? I didn’t know any of it. What I did know was that I had a shred, a shred of self-respect left so I clutched it like I clutched my clothes, making to leave.

“Babe,” he called, and to my surprise, he was close. Like right at my back. Something draped over my shoulders. “Wear this,” he ordered firmly.

“Zane, I don’t think...” I started to protest.

“Don’t fuckin’ argue,” he commanded, shrugging my shoulders into a shirt that smelled of tobacco and man. Of Zane.

I relented. He turned me slightly, putting one hand on my hip, another at my jaw. His face searched mine. Then he did it again. I could barely see, but I could feel it. His eyes looking into the core of me. Our kindred spirits recognized the broken pieces in each other. Just for a moment.

His lips touched mine. “I’ll see you,” he promised

I stood woodenly a moment before walking out the door.

I made it all the way to my house without thinking. I even checked on Lexie once more, then made it to my room. I then sank onto my floor, my head going to the collar of the shirt, inhaling it.

“Fuck,” I muttered out loud.

Fuck was right. I feared I had somehow just jumped right off the deep end. And I was a shitty swimmer.





“It’s taken care of,” a voice told me on the other end of the phone.

“It’s taken care of?” I repeated, my eyes bulging out in disbelief.

I was talking to an unfamiliar voice at the garage of the Sons. This was because I was yet to receive the invoice for Betty. I had called because I didn’t want to delay in finding out how much the sting would be. I knew it would be a mint. Car repairs always were. It would hurt. We weren’t exactly punching food stamps since I was paid well and thrifty when expensive footwear wasn’t on sale. But I had bought this place in Amber, which meant I had a mortgage. I was also saving for Lexie’s college tuition. I wasn’t exactly rolling in it, but we’d manage. We always did.

“Yep,” the bored sounding voice informed me.

I rubbed my slightly aching head. “There must have been some kind of mix up. I haven’t paid, haven’t even received an invoice.”

It had been over two weeks since I got Betty back, and nothing. As much as I would like to ignore that, I couldn’t. I assumed it had got lost in the mail, something. Obviously this wasn’t the case.

“Don’t need to, club took care of it,” the voice informed me The guy sounded like he didn’t understand why I didn’t get so simple a concept.

I chewed my lip. Lexie and her band were playing in the garage; even with the door closed I could hear the muffled sound. They were good. Way good.

Anne Malcom's books