Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(33)

Cade stood too. His normally emotionless face was troubled and he was looking at him in concern.

This bristled Bull that much more. He didn’t need that f*ckin’ look. He loathed to see that on Cade’s face. It made him feel weak. He knew what his brother had done for him. What his Old Lady had done. Pulled him back from the brink. When he had been preparing to meet the Devil, to give in to the demons, Cade had yanked him back from the edge. He wasn’t thankful at the time. Sometimes he hated his brother for making him continue the fight, other times, like right now, was angry for another reason. For thinking there might be another reason to continue, other than the club. Her.





I tapped my pencil down on my desk impatiently. I was in a bad mood. This was unusual. Once I had dragged myself out of my very own living Hell, I made it my mission to be happy. To be positive. Have a sense of humor. It helped I had a beautiful daughter to keep me looking at the glass half full. I was also stubborn. So through money problems, fear and all sorts of other things life threw at me, I managed to look on the bright side and try to make the best of it. I had it pretty good. I had friends, Steve and Ava, and I had Lexie. The dark shadow of our life before would always be with me but I learned to turn a blind eye. Apart from making sure he couldn’t find us, wouldn’t find us, that shadow didn’t exist. Apart from in my dreams.

So, sitting at my desk in my little office at the hotel, I found it hard to drag myself out from the black cloud I was currently letting infect my life. Nothing particularly bad had happened. It was an accumulation of things. I slept through my alarm. Ran out of coffee. Poked myself in the eye with a mascara wand. Twice. I then spilled my precious Shelly coffee all over my white pants, hence a detour home to change an outfit. And then another detour to replace the coffee. So I was late to work. Then I had to deal with rude guests and staff shortages.

I had hidden myself in the salon, the place where I felt most at home, at peace. I had started in hotels as a maid while working to support Lexie and I and put myself through beauty school. It was hard, really hard. But I did it, and worked as a therapist for years before Steve had promoted me to manager. Although I didn’t miss the backaches from the exertion of giving massages, I missed the feeling of helping to make women feel beautiful.

So that’s how I found myself behind the desk at the salon, sipping a coffee, trying to find my Zen.

“I’m so freaking furious at him!”

I glanced up at hearing the raised voice amongst my Zen music.

“Girl, how you can be furious at a man like that is beyond me. One look at his impressive physique and broody eyes, he’s forgiven for an-y-thing,” a throaty voice replied to the complaint.

My eyes rested on Gwen—I think that was her name—from the store that was way out of my price range but sometimes existed in my dreams. I remembered how nice she had been to Lexie and I, and her accent was pretty unique. She hadn’t properly approached the desk and seemed too into her conversation to notice me.

“Yes, well, trust me—those things have got him away with a lot.” She paused and stopped walking. “A lot,” she repeated meaningfully. “But not this time,” she said firmly.

The woman with her just shook her head knowingly. The woman I did not recognize. And I would have remembered her. She was like a supermodel. Her inky black hair tumbled down her back, shining like she was in a fricking shampoo ad. I wondered if there was a way I could ask her about which products she used without sounding like a weirdo. Her skin was pale and flawless, not needing the expertly applied makeup, though her winged liner that could cut a bitch it was that sharp. She was wearing all black, which would have been harsh on anyone else, but somehow she worked it. Her long, svelte body encased in a tight polo neck dress that finished below her knees, and killer heels with laces creeping up her calves. It made me have a fleeting thought about joining the gym. That didn’t last for long.

Gwen was looking like she had walked out of the pages of Vogue. I had to stop myself from drooling at her electric blue Manolos. She was dressed all in white; white cropped high-waisted pants tucked into a silk floaty blouse. A slight baby bump poked out from her pants. Not a stain on her. I wanted to hate her on that alone. My white pants didn’t last an hour.

These women were enough to give me a complex.

Unfortunately, at that moment she jerked out of her conversation and gave me a warm smile.

“Mia! It’s so nice to see you, I totally forgot you managed this place.” She strutted up to the desk, greeting me warmly.

My plan of hating her for her ability to wear white unstained seemed to be lost.

“I’m not usually here, but after the day I’ve had I had to be in a place of calm.” I spread my hands out, gesturing with my coffee cup. “Coffee plus beauty salon equals calm.”

Gwen laughed and her friend leaned on the desk. “Amen to that, although I think we could replace that coffee with something akin to a martini glass,” she suggested thoughtfully. “I’m Lucy. I’m sure you’ll be seeing me around, considering when I’m not at work, Gwen’s store and here are the places I frequent in Amber.” She held up long, mocha-colored nails. “These are not a result of my own practiced hand,” she declared.

I laughed warmly and genuinely. “I’m Mia, and I applaud you for being able to live with those. It’s my dream to have beautiful nails, but I can’t seem to function without breaking them,” I sighed. “I am destined for a lonely life without a decent manicure.”