Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(68)
Cade crossed his arms. “And what would telling you have done, Gwen? Stressed you out even more than you already are worrying about Belle’s f*cking gums? You would have been beside yourself. And I wouldn’t have been able to be there to f*ckin’ calm you down. So yes, I didn’t tell you. I’d do it again. I’d rather have you pissed at me than worried and alone without me.”
On that note he grabbed the back of her head and laid a hot one on her, not unlike the lip lock I had just detangled myself from. After what was a smidgeon too long for a kiss outside the bedroom Cade let her go, touching his forehead to hers. He gave her a look. A look that I felt like an intruder even being witness to. One that communicated a shared secret between the two of them that the world didn’t know about, nor would ever know about. With that look he let her go.
“I’m going to see our daughter,” he said softly.
“Kay,” Gwen replied dreamily, watching him walk toward the house with a vacant look on her face. She seemed to shake herself out of it and turned back to me, clutching my hand in hers. “Let’s go inside and get you some tea.”
I let her drag me inside, following Bull, Lucky, and Brock. Brock had been watching the little scene unfold, leaning on the truck looking all sexy. “I’ll only have tea if by tea you mean vodka,” I replied as we walked through the door.
“Slugger!”
Uncle Garrett detached from what looked like an argument with my father, who was standing in the middle of my living room to pull me into a hug. I sagged against him, the familiar smell of cigarette smoke comforting. “Thank god you’re okay, kid,” he spoke softly into my hair, not letting me go.
The emotion and slight choke in his voice threatened to get me starting with the tears all over again, but they dried up with the sound of a familiar but unwelcome voice.
“Garrett, now that you’ve pounced on my daughter do you mind releasing her so we can assure ourselves she is not suffocated?” My mother’s cultured voice was dripping with disdain.
Garrett held me a moment longer in rebellion before he let me go. “Oh, I’m sorry, Katherine, did my display of emotion that my niece was living and breathing make you uncomfortable?” he asked sarcastically.
My mother chose to ignore him, casting a judgmental eye over me. My outfit was sure to give her an aneurism. I was wearing loose yoga pants so they didn’t compress my bandages. My tee, which I thought rocked, had the Sons of Templar insignia on it and was tight, baring some of my midriff. Brock’s eyes had turned dark when he saw me in it and I deduced I would wear the shirt more often. For once a well-put together designer outfit was not high on my list of priorities. But if she had one comment on it I think I might just try and strangle her with her pearls.
She seemed to sense this and stayed silent on the outfit front, stepping her pumps forward to stand close enough I could smell the Chanel.
“Amy, my dear. We’re glad you’re back.” She lightly touched my shoulders, giving me air kisses.
“Yes. Well, Mother, one could only stay so long against their will before it got dull.” I matched her tone that communicated we were talking about a spa retreat rather than a kidnapping. Like Garrett’s remark she chose to let that one fly over her perfectly styled head.
My father stepped around her to stand in front of me. The expression on his face was tortured and even miserable for a second until he disguised it. “Amy. I apologize you had to get caught up in this unpleasantness,” he said blandly.
I raised my eyebrows at his choice of words and felt Brock’s body behind me still. Garrett’s face also got red. I could tell he was about to let loose but I thought I’d beat him to it. “You and your business partner seem to run from the same playbook,” I told him, meeting his eyes.
He had the good grace to pale slightly. “Amy, I....”
I didn’t let him finish. “You see, Clark Devon also referred to me being tasered, handcuffed to a bed, and being held against my will as ‘unpleasantness’.” I used air quotes. “As if being held captive was equal to the valet scratching your car or eating bad food at a restaurant. I think I would beg to differ about the degree of unpleasantness I experienced. I find it ironic that I had to suffer through your indifference as a child and now your business got me taken against my will. How it almost killed me. How are you going to explain that, Daddy Dearest?”
“Do not talk to your father in such a manner, Amy Abrams!” my mother chimed in, looking disgusted.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mother. I think any respect I had for this man died away when his actions got me kidnapped and tortured!” I snapped at her.
She assessed me. “You can’t lay all of the blame on your father. You were the one sitting in some filthy bar in New Mexico drinking yourself into a stupor. What did you expect would happen to you, Amy?”
Silence followed this statement.
I felt Brock’s heat at my back as he stepped forward and I could feel the fury rolling off him in waves. “Are you f*cking serious, Katherine?” Garrett boomed from beside my mother, his normally carefree face distorted in fury.
My mother looked at him in aghast. “I understand due to the company we are surrounded by you are tempted to think cursing in such a manner is an appropriate way to talk to me. I assure you it is not.”
“Trust me, Sis, you’re lucky I’m holding myself back,” he sneered. “You’re honestly trying to lay the blame for all of this shit on your daughter? Did they remove your black, shriveled excuse for a heart in your last surgery?”