Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(105)

I glared at him with hatred, not speaking.

“Maybe it was a good thing I haven’t been reunited with my daughter just yet,” he continued. “Gives me time to make sure I have her mother setting a good example,” he mused.

My blood curdled. “She’s not your daughter,” I informed him icily. “You lost any claim on her the moment you laid a hand on me when she was growing inside me. When you almost killed her,” I sneered.

Sid banged his fist down on the table, his calm fa?ade shattering. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” he bellowed. “When you made me believe she was dead, I was f*cking sorry! It haunted me for years,” he screamed, spittle flying out his mouth. “It gave you no right to run, to hide from me.”

I laughed without humor. “You are f*cking insane,” I informed him. “When you beat me while I had my daughter inside me, you gave me every f*cking right to get as far away from you as humanely possible, you sick f*ck,” I yelled, pushing back from my chair.

Quick as a flash, Sid was up and had plowed his fist through my face before I even had time to react. My body was thrown back into the glass door behind me. The impact sent pain vibrating through my body, up my spine. I was lucky it didn’t smash. Pain erupted not only in my jaw but in my wrist, which I had thrown out to break my fall. I lay there holding my jaw, cradling my other arm to my stomach. I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. I was in a lot of f*cking pain but I wouldn’t give him my tears. My eyes didn’t leave Sid, the hatred I felt for the man increasing by the second.

He walked over to me slowly, his Gucci loafers stopping at my prone body. He knelt down, his eyes blank.

“Why do you make me do this?” he asked, shaking his head. His hand went to brush a hair out of my face. I flinched.

“Maybe you’ll be different when Hillary’s here, when we can be a real family,” he mused thoughtfully.

In my pain-drenched haze I still realized that Sid had well and truly gone off the deep end, if he had ever been swimming in the shallow waters of sanity. Maybe he had always been this crazy, but my na?ve teenage eyes had been blinded by affection and the illusion of love. Of being wanted. Now that I knew what real love was, I saw him for the monster he was.

“But while we wait for her I think you need some time—time to mull over what being a good wife means,” he continued, his voice flat, as is he hadn’t just plowed a fist into my face and potentially broken my arm. “And you think while you have that time, that if when Hillary gets here you put a foot out of line, it will be in front of our daughter that you get taught your lesson.”





It was dark. And cold. Wherever I was wasn’t intended by the decorator to see the light of day. There was a weird metallic tang in the air and a dripping sound that seemed to echo in the small room. The floor was concrete and the only furniture was the chain that was connected to the wall and my ankle. Yes, I was chained up to the freaking wall. Like an animal. If I had been awake while they were doing this, I would have struggled and screamed like a banshee. But instead, like the coward that he was, Sid had once again plowed his fist through my face to knock me out. Didn’t the f*ckhead ever hear of a sleeping pill? Or a friggin’ tranquilizer? If I had to be knocked out, I much would have preferred those options. I doubted they would come with the ear splitting headache that made it hard to think straight. And the only thoughts whirring through my pounding head were of my daughter. Of the chances of Sid actually getting his hands on her. I would happily stay chained here for the rest of my life, however long that may be, if it meant Lexie never had to breathe her father’s air. I really didn’t want to die here, though. And never see my kid graduate high school. Become a world famous rock star. Get married. Have a baby of her own. The thought of her doing all that, without me, made me taste bile. The thought of Zane, the pain he must be in. If something happened to me like it had to Laurie, I didn’t think he’d ever recover. A man could only take so much before being broken completely. With one fell swoop, Sid had stomped on three lives, wearing Gucci loafers.

Time moves slowly when you’re chained up in the darkness. Or quickly. Maybe time didn’t mean a thing. I was left with only my thoughts, and in the dark came the darkest of thoughts. I jumped slightly when I thought I heard faint sounds of gunshots. I listened hard, but I heard nothing else. I reasoned I imagined it. Wishful thinking and all that. I jostled slightly and it sent pain vibrating up my arm. Yep, definitely broken. I struggled not to let my mind be overrun with the demons that preyed in the darkness. The dark thoughts. Like I was going to die here. Like I was never going to see my daughter again. I’d never get to feel Zane’s arms around me again. I fought against those dark thoughts. Zane’s words after Ava and Steve died came into my head. “You need to bring the light in before the darkness settles.”

So instead of focusing on how alone I was in the dark, I thought of how happy I had been.





I stroked the three-day stubble that prickled against my fingers, slightly obscuring his dark goatee. “Please don’t grow a beard,” I requested quietly.

Zane glanced down at me with a guarded look on his face. He didn’t speak but he was using his usual nonverbal communication. I was becoming very fluent in this Zane speak. As was Lexie.

“If you grew a beard, it would make you...” I paused to calculate in my head. “About ten times hotter. And not only is that not fair to your fellow average Joe who barely stands a chance against goatee Zane, it also means that I’ll have to get acrylic nails.” I met his eyes. “For defensive purposes. I’ll have to scratch bitches who get all hypnotized by the hotness of you, and with the beard—” I shook my head gravely. “It’ll cause hysteria.” I glanced down at my hands. “Plus, I hate acrylic nails. I can never do menial tasks because of the plastic talons stuck to my fingers. I envy women who can conquer the day with them. I am not one of those women.”