Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(48)

“And I said you’re not the boss of me. We’re not together, I’m not your old lady,” I used condescending air quotes. “We have sex. That’s it. You don’t get to play the protective male card when it suits you, then act like an * when it all gets a bit rough. We aren’t together so stop acting like it.”

Brock’s face turned hard. “Is that what you want? Just sex? So you can have someone to f*ck you every now and then while you wait for Ian to come home?” he asked bitterly.

I was taken aback.

Is that what he thought? I was using him as a human f*ck toy to keep me occupied? If only he knew the truth. The fact was I was keeping my distance because I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. Afraid of the feelings that threatened to consume me, unlike anything I felt for Ian.

He took my silence as agreement and he shoved the phone back into my hands. “Do what you f*ckin’ want. You and your crazy shit aren’t my problem,” he growled. He threw open the door, which a shocked looking Gwen was standing in front of, her hand in the air poised to knock.

“Bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t let the pain of the verbal blow show. “Asshole,” I retorted to his back.

Gwen’s face was curious and I didn’t even want to try and explain what happened. All I wanted was to leave before I chased Brock and spilled my heart to him. That would be worse than anything else because then he could trample all over it.





Hours later I wished I had listened to Brock, wished I hadn’t dismissed the danger Gwen was in. Because maybe if I had I wouldn’t have wandered into the back room of our store looking for Gwen, only to find the back door open and no best friend.

When I realized Gwen had been kidnapped I lost my mind. I mainly swore at any biker that happened to be around the clubhouse (where I had been imprisoned) and tried not to cry. I had wanted to steal someone’s gun and break out of this hideous place and look for her myself.

Images of her in that hospital bed after Jimmy attacked her preyed on my mind. At first she had been barely recognizable, her face black and blue, half of her head covered by a bandage. She had a tube in her mouth because she couldn’t breathe on her own. I had stood around helpless while I waited for the most important person in my life to either wake up or fade away. It had been beyond a nightmare. The fact that I faced the prospect again had me terrified, especially since I had the knowledge of what the gang who kidnapped her had done to their last victim—Laurie, Bull’s old lady. Raped her. Stabbed her repeatedly, tattooed her face. Then dropped her off in front of the clubhouse just so the man who loved her could watch her die in the hospital the next day. I tasted bile at the thought of this happening to Gwen.

I recalled the look on Cade’s face when he had arrived at the store after I had alerted the club of the fact she was missing. It was wild, feral, and resigned. Beyond his strong fa?ade was a glimmer of resignation at the prospect Gwen might face the same fate as Laurie.

He had punched the prospect who was meant to be protecting her. Pummeled is a better description. I think he might have killed him had Brock and Lucky not pulled him off him.

“Cool it, brother. Killing this piece of shit isn’t going to get us to Gwen. We’ll do that when we get her back,” Brock had told him evenly.

Cade seemed to shake himself and nodded. He then spat at the prospect’s prone body and stormed out the door. Lucky had followed him. Brock and I had stared at each other for an inordinate amount of time.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” he instructed the men left watching our stare off. With that he had left.

That was hours ago, and had it not been for Rosie and Lucy I would have gone insane with worry. Or at least murdered a prospect. They had been amazing, plying me with enough alcohol to calm me but not enough to get me drunk. I could tell by the shadows in their eyes that they were battling with demons of their own. Laurie had been their friend.

We all abruptly stood when we heard motorcycles approach. I ran to the door and a prospect stood in front of me, blocking the exit. “I can’t let you go out there,” he said firmly.

I glared at him. “Either you let me out there or I make sure you are never able to have children,” I informed him coldly. He stared at me, not looking like he was going to back down.

“For f*ck’s sake, Tiny, let her f*cking past. I doubt anything will happen to her on the parking lot of the clubhouse. I’d be more worried about your immediate safety,” Rosie said from behind me. Tiny gave me another look before stepping aside.

I ran out to where Brock had gotten off his bike, a weary look on his face.

He caught my expression when I made it to him and steadied me with hands on my shoulders.

“We got her, Sparky—she’s fine,” he told me.

I stared at him a moment then threw my arms around him. My entire body sagged at the relief from his statement. I heard Rosie and Lucy’s sighs from behind me.

He pulled back slightly. “I’ll take you to her.” He handed me his helmet and I took it silently.

When we arrived at our place Brock had barely stopped the bike before I flew off it. I had to see for myself…make sure she was okay and in one piece. Physically and mentally.

“Jesus Christ, babe,” I heard Brock’s mutter from behind me. I ignored it and burst through the door, finding Gwen and Cade in the living room. Everything inside me relaxed when I saw her safe and breathing.