Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(51)

I glared up at him. “Get out of my way,” I said quietly.

“Sparky,” he murmured softly, his eyes on mine.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let the soft, sympathetic look in his eyes penetrate. If it did I would fall into his arms sobbing. I had to find my friend.

“Get out of my way!” I screamed at him, my voice breaking at the end.

I didn’t care that my voice caused the hushed chatter to cease and put all eyes on me. I only cared that Brock frowned at me a beat then stepped aside. I burst into the room where my best friend was and held onto her for dear life.

The next day, after being assured Gwen was fit to fly, I sped around franticly organizing our trip to New Zealand. I called my father, and upon hearing the news he made sure we had everything we needed, including his jet and a doctor to fly with us. No matter what his emotional shortcomings were he was there with his money and connections when I needed him. They were a poor substitute for a father’s love but useful nonetheless. Because I had been so busy sorting everything out I had the luxury of a busy mind, which meant no free moment to let reality come in and tear me to pieces. I could feel it though. The cold, sharp grief puncturing the frail sense of sanity I was clinging to.

I was determined to shelve my own grief and focus on getting my friend home safe and away from the traitorous dirty cheat of a biker that was hovering around her.

After finding out Gwen had found him in bed with a club whore I had seriously debated the merits of stabbing him with a scalpel, but I deduced Gwen didn’t need the drama and I didn’t want bloodstains on my outfit. I was toying with the idea of accidently plowing into his motorcycle while he was on it.

All of these plans would have to wait since I pulled up to the hospital, bags packed, flights booked, ready for Gwen and I to fly out of this freaking town.

I stopped the car and took a deep breath. Brock was following Cade, who was pushing Gwen in a wheelchair. I did not need that.

I glared at Cade hotly as I rounded the car, wishing looks could kill. I softened my gaze to smile weakly at Gwen. “I’ve got everything we need for our trip, Gwennie. Daddy’s jet is waiting for us at a small airstrip outside of town and it’ll take us to LAX where we’ve got the next plane to Auckland. Daddy also insisted we take his doctor with us on the flight. Just in case.”

I glanced down at her stomach and tried not to let my worry for the little being in there show. I tried to help her out of the chair, doing my best to ignore the heavy stare of two angry bikers. I couldn’t ignore the hand that fastened on my wrist unfortunately.

“What the f*ck do you think you’re doing, Amy? You can’t just take the mother of my child halfway across the world. Wherever she goes I go,” he declared roughly.

Oh no, he didn’t. He could not play the concerned father and boyfriend bit after f*cking some slut. I was wishing I had sharp objects in the immediate vicinity, couture be damned. I settled for a piercing glare.

“You can take your hand off me right now.” My voice was pure ice.

Luckily for him he complied. He was muscly and tall and all that, but with the cocktail of fury and grief running through my system I figured I could take him.

I helped Gwen up and then my gaze shot back to him.

“I can and I will take Gwen back to her family and her home, to the people that love her. In case you’ve forgotten she’s going to attend the f*cking funeral of her only brother,” I hissed at him, ignoring the sharp stab I felt as I uttered the words. “It just happens to be convenient that her home is as far away from you as humanly possible, and a silver lining in this f*cking nightmare is the fact that you are a criminal with a record which means you aren’t going anywhere,” I finished on a slight snarl.

I flicked my attention away from him. Now that I said my piece he did not exist.

“Jesus, Gwen, wait,” I heard him plead. I was totally ready to drop the motherf*cker if he tried to stop me but Gwen put her hand on my arm.

“It’s okay, Amy.”

I managed not to flinch at the flat, dead tone of her voice and complied in letting her turn back to Cade. When this happened Brock advanced on me, yanking me away and pulling me flush to his body. “Sparky, wait a f*cking second before you fly halfway across the world,” he hissed in my ear.

I gazed at him flatly, trying to disguise my yearning for him. I was disgusted with myself. All I wanted to do was jump into his arms, to grieve the loss of another man.

His hand went to my hips, and his face softened to a look so tender I had never seen it on his rough face. “Baby, let me sort some shit out. I’ll come with you. Be there for you,” he said softly.

I yanked out of his arms, his suggestion like a bucket of ice water. “Yeah, how do you think that will go down? Me bringing the guy I’ve been sleeping with to Gwen’s brother’s funeral. That’s poor f*cking taste,” I hissed at him and his eyes hardened.

“I’m more than that and you know it,” he replied roughly.

“This isn’t the time to discuss semantics of our past relationship. I’ve got a flight to catch,” I snapped.

I turned my back on him, but not before I saw his face turn to stone. I swallowed my feelings and got Gwen into the car, using all of my willpower not to look back. Not to f*cking turn around and beg Brock to come with me. I did it. Barely.