Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(104)

A beeping on Wire’s tablet drew his attention. “Fuck,” Wire muttered. “We’ve got company.” He showed the screen once more; this time it was the security footage of the gate. Crawford filled the screen.

“Fuck!” Cade half roared. “When will that piece of shit get transferred to f*ckin’ traffic patrol and get out of our shit?”

The positive atmosphere that had swirled within the room not seconds ago dissipated with the appearance of that f*cker. They weren’t going anywhere without a goddamned tail.





I showered, mostly because I had to wash off the filth that came with Sid’s touch. Also, because I had to have some self-preservation. There was no reason to needlessly provoke him. However much I despised him, I had to stay on his good side, at least until Zane came. And he would come. I didn’t have illusions over the fact I had any chance of getting out of here alone. As much as I would have liked to be some badass female, underneath all my girly clothes and makeup obsession, I wasn’t. I didn’t even do anything productive like become a black belt in karate after I escaped Sid. I was too busy dealing with a newborn and figuring out how to feed her. How to survive. So I knew I had two options. Zane would save me or Sid would kill me. It might take days, months, years…I didn’t know how long, but the coldness in his eyes, the evil, wasn’t fleeting as it had been years before. It was permanent. Which meant bad things for me. So I was hoping for the first option. I couldn’t imagine never seeing my daughter again. Never seeing Zane again. I would fight with every inch of me until my last breath, but I was realistic of my chances without my dark protector.

I was reluctantly dressed in the clothes from the closet. My own were filthy and stained with blood. I defiantly chose an all-white outfit. If, or more likely when Sid decided to lay a hand on me, he would see his expensive shit soiled with the results of his temper. As much as he loved inflicting pain, he hated mess. Something I had learned the hard way.

The door opened and the same goon who had given me the towel stepped into the room. “Ready, miss?” he asked as if he was a butler escorting me to dinner with the queen, not breakfast with a psychopath. He didn’t even flinch at my battered face, which I had glimpsed in the mirror. Getting thrown around in the trunk of a car didn’t do much for the complexion. Neither did getting clocked with the butt of a gun, the knot in the back of my head communicating this to me.

I jutted out my chin and followed the goon.

“So, you don’t mind working for a woman beating-monster?” I asked his back. “Bet your mother’s proud of you,” I shot at him. Not the best idea, provoking the steroid freak, but I was transforming from terrified to pissed. It was the only way to survive. And right now, I was pissed that my f*cking husband thought he could come in and f*ck up my life. Lexie’s life.

The goon stayed silent. He was trained well. We soon entered a dining room. The house was smaller than I originally thought, but still opulent. The room was empty, I expected Sid to be sitting there eating breakfast, but Goon One continued out to a patio. I restrained my surprise at the familiar landscape. We were still in California. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Sid sat at a wicker outdoor table. He was drinking coffee. His gaze flickered over me and down my body. His expression was carefully blank. I couldn’t say he didn’t look good. He did. He’d grown up from the attractive teenager with the boyish face. That face had hardened at the sides, becoming more manly. He was clean shaven with a tan that looked suspiciously fake. His black hair was slicked back in that sophisticated way businessmen seemed to prefer. Me? I learned I liked my men rougher. A lot rougher. He was wearing a white button down, the collar open. The body underneath it was lean, but still muscly. He didn’t look intimating right then. His muscles didn’t look like they could inflict pain, break bones. I knew only too well they could.

“Sit, Button,” he commanded softly.

I paused before complying. I had originally chosen to sit at the seat farthest away from the reptile in the expensive shirt, but Goon One directed me beside him. I scowled up at the blank face. As soon as I sat down, Sid clutched my hand, kissing it. My skin crawled at the touch of his vile lips on any part of me. I quickly snatched it away.

“Don’t you touch me,” I hissed.

Sid was unfazed. “I see it might take a while to get used to me,” he said blandly. “Especially,” he looked out at the landscape, “since you’ve been lowering yourself into the gutter by sleeping with bikers.” His voice was still bland but his jaw was hard.

I stiffened. “The only time I lowered myself into the gutter was when I let you lay your filthy hands on me,” I spat with hatred.

My mind didn’t let me regret it. How could I? I got Lexie. I’d go through it all again, a hundred more times for her.

Sid’s eyes turned to me. “My, with beauty has come insolence,” he commented. He tilted his head slightly. “I can’t say it doesn’t appeal.” He regarded me with his empty eyes. “It just means it’ll be interesting getting you back in line.”

My skin crawled.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, his head moving to glance at the hills in the distance. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we aren’t home yet. I’m obviously waiting for Hillary,” he said as if she was off on Spring Break, not running from her sicko father whom she’d thankfully never met. “I thought she might want to stay somewhere familiar, that you both would. So I bought this place.” He held his hands out. “More modest than I’m used to, and obviously a touch more opulent than what you’ve been able to provide, but it’ll serve as a good transition home,” he said, moving his eyes back to me.