Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)(71)

As I was in the midst of working myself into hysteria I hadn’t noticed Brock get up off the sofa, but strong hands at my shoulders which stopped my pacing got my attention. He pulled me close to face him, his hand going to my neck, eyes intense on mine.

“Don’t you dare f*cking say that,” he ordered roughly. “Don’t you ever blame yourself for one minute of this f*cking nightmare. None of this shit is your fault,” he declared fiercely, his hand tightening at my neck. “The blame for this shit rests solely on your father’s shoulders. Sparky, he is the one who got involved with that piece of shit. He is the reason you almost f*ckin’ died.” His voice shook with restrained fury, then his eyes softened. “The only reason you’re standing here today is because you’re the strongest, bravest, most stubborn person I know. That’s what you’re responsible for—you survived when not many other people would have. That’s the only thing you’re responsible for,” he told me quietly, pride in his voice.

I blinked, my anger fizzling like a deflated balloon. My fragile emotional state could not handle declarations like this. Luckily the soppy stuff was short lived.

“Now sit the f*ck down. You need to rest your legs and pacing like a mad woman is a stupid ass thing to do when you have healing stitches,” he growled, directing me back to the sofa.

I glared at him, but did as I was told. I caught Gwen’s eye and her face was hard but determined. “Brock’s right, Ames, none of this was your fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself.” She screwed her nose up. “This is all your father’s fault. I wish I had kicked him in the nuts when I had the chance,” she muttered angrily.

I laughed at the frustrated look on Gwen’s face, and I wasn’t the only one amused by her angry proclamation. Cade smiled, shaking his head before he pulled Gwen tightly into his shoulder, kissing her.

I shook my head slightly, needing more details. I turned back to Garrett who was watching Brock and I with a small smirk. “So what was in it for Harold?” I asked. “I doubt he just said, ‘Sure, I’ll break the law for you and face federal prison. Just buy me a beer later and we’ll be square’.”

“Money,” Garrett replied, his face hard. “Devon paid him a lot of money. Plus no one says no to Clark Devon. Not without ending up floating face down in the Hudson.”

I chewed on this for a moment.

“No one says no to Clark Devon,” Gwen parroted in a sarcastic voice. “Who is he, freaking Vito Corleone?” Her voice still held an irritated note.

“He’s a lot more dangerous than a movie character, baby,” Cade answered softly, his face blank. “He’s got serious connections to all of the four families and not someone to be taken lightly,” he said.

“Well, maybe you guys shouldn’t be looking to ‘take care of him’,” I cut in, slightly panicked. “Or else you all might end up sleeping with the fishes.” Despite my use of a corny Mafia quote, I was supremely worried my best friend could become a widow because her husband’s club felt obligated to avenge my kidnapping.

To my surprise Cade laughed. “Amy, the f*cker may have a shit ton of money and some greasy friends, but we’ll burn him and his entire f*cking outfit to the ground without breaking a sweat,” he declared flatly.

I chewed my lip, my worry not leaving me. Brock’s mouth brushed my forehead. “Stop thinking about the * babe. You’re here, you’re safe. Nothing or no one will ever hurt you again. I got you,” he promised softly, his mouth brushing my ear.

The tingles that went down my spine helped to dissolve my worries, as did the strong arms encircling me. Anxiety still swirled in my gut though, and deep down I couldn’t shake the fact something terrible was going to happen.

“Enough about that cockroach,” Garrett boomed. “Let’s talk about my boy here referring to Katherine as an incubator,” His twinkling eyes were on Brock. “Fucking hilarious, my man. You’ve got my blessing with that one after that shit,” he declared with a grin.

I ignored the stomach squeeze at that comment and from there the conversation moved on to lighter topics, the tension in the room dissipating slightly before Garrett declared he had to leave. I was upset that my uncle couldn’t stay longer and so was he, it seemed. But he had business in China that couldn’t wait and he promised he would be back to see me as soon as he could.

After he left I lounged around with Gwen and Belle while the men folk made themselves scarce. Brock seemed reluctant to let me out of his sight for extended periods of time, which meant he popped his head in every now and then, sometimes coming to press a soft kiss to my forehead. It confused the shit out of me, but I was too emotionally drained to contemplate it.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Amy?” Gwen asked, looking at me with concern.

“I’m sure,” I replied firmly. She bit her lip, looking unsure.

“I’m going to be fine, Gwennie. You need to go home and get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.” I put my hand on her shoulders.

“You promise you’ll call if you need anything?”

“I promise.” I made a cross over my chest.

She threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you so much.”

I sighed into the embrace. “I missed you too.”