Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)(113)

I stared back at him, the love, concern, anguish in his eyes failing to affect me. My emotions were locked up deep inside me I couldn’t let them out. I couldn’t have the loss coursing through my veins like a poison. I was afraid I wouldn’t survive.

“You need to let me go.” I responded flatly.

His arms tightened on my neck. “Baby please.” His voice almost broke and his stare burnt into mine.

“Let me go now, I have a plane to catch.” I watched him flinch at my tone. What he didn’t do was let me go.

“Gwen…”

“Let me go!” I screamed in his face, my voice cracking.

Someone grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away. I took my chance and hopped into the door that Amy was holding open for me, she had obviously managed to pull herself away from her own angry biker. I watched as Cade fought off Bull, yelling, throwing punches never taking his eyes off me. Lucky and Brock joined in, struggling to hold him back. Unable to watch anymore I turned my head as Amy drove away.



That was about 21 hours ago. I had barely slept, my mind going over everything and nothing at all. Thoughts, memories tugging at the corners of my mind, refusing to let me welcome oblivion.

Amy and I disembarked, walking along the tarmac of the small airport. The mountains of home surrounded me like a warm blanket, even with the bitter winter wind biting at my skin. We emerged at arrivals and I zeroed my parents out immediately. My usually immaculate mother was wearing faded jeans and a hoodie, her face free of makeup, eyes rimmed red, she looked gaunt and grief had settled over ever inch of her small frame. My father was staunch, strong, as usual, his arms around my mother. His eyes were the only things that betrayed him. They were full of sorrow and devastation. All of a sudden I was engulfed in my mothers arms.

“Oh Gwennie, my baby.” She sobbed clutching me to her.

I felt my fathers strong arms circle around us both, I looked up at him to see his eyes glistening as he kissed my head. I clung to what remained of my family.





Chapter 18


2 months later


“You know what mum, I think this gardening thing is actually growing on me.” I informed her, my hands digging through the soil. I held them up, inspecting my nails, which were caked with dirt. “Even if it destroys my manicure.”

My mother smiled. “Well it has only taken 25 years.” She replied dryly.

“And you are supposed to wear gloves.” She waved her bright pink flowered ones.

I turned my attention back down at the soil and sighed. “I like the feel of it between my fingertips, it’s…soothing.”

My mothers smile turned sad, I could tell her thoughts were turning to worry. And grief.

“Gwennie. Sweetheart, you know you need to talk, you can’t keep this bottled up. You haven’t even cried since the funeral.” Her voice was wobbly.

She was right. I hadn’t shed a tear since they had put my brother in the ground. Hadn’t spoken a word of him if I could avoid it, I couldn’t. I couldn’t open that dam, because I was afraid if I did I could never plug it back up. I couldn’t let myself let go of the carefully put together pieces of my soul. I would shatter.

I stood up abruptly, dusting my hands off on my already dirty dress.

“Mum. I don’t need to talk okay? Just let me be. Please stop pressuring me when I don’t have anything to say.”

She stood too, eyes glistening. “Gwen…” she looked as if she was going to push it.

“Okay my two best green thumbs, time to go, I’ve got us booked in for three.” Amy stood on the porch, her heels not permitting her from venturing onto the grass.

I would have laughed if I had had the ability, my Mahattanite best friend may have settled into life in the country alright but she was yet to adopt the gumboots that were second nature around here.

“What are you smirking at Martha Stewart? I know for a fact you are in desperate need of a manicure.” She shot at me.

Amy was trying as hard as she could to hide her grief. But it leaked out every now and then. I would watch her face grow dark and tears well in her eyes when something she said or did reminded her of…him. I was trying to ignore my own suffering as best I could so I focused on hers, she lost him too. The man she loved. We were both as broken as each other, trying to hide our wounds as best we could. The breeze rustled my dress, and my thoughts ventured downward to the round bulge of my stomach.

“I’m coming, just give the pregnant woman some slack, I’ll be waddling soon.” I made my way through our garden, Mum at my side.

“Soon?” Amy raised a brow. “I think I detect a slight waddle now.”

I gasped, grabbing my mother’s hand, turning to her in horror.

“Did you hear that Mum? She said I waddled. I’m not waddling. Am I?” I asked desperately.

My mother smiled through the pain that was in her eyes and touched my stomach lightly.

“Well I wasn’t going to say anything…” She joked, sneaking a glance at my so called best friend.

“Oh you two are pieces of work, making fun of the pregnant lady. You do get how delicate my hormones are right now? And that I am holding gardening scissors?” I glared at them both, shaking my weapon threateningly.

My mother rolled her eyes lovingly. “Shears, my doll they are called shears.”