Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(42)

Lexie had abandoned the perusal of his bike and was now wandering around his garage.

“You should come and listen to us once we get a little better,” she added over her shoulder. “Or maybe once we get our first gig.” She paused. “Hey!” she called in an excited voice. “I didn’t know you played!”

Bull followed her eyes to the guitar resting in the corner of the room, lying half-abandoned in its dusty case.

“Long time ago,” he said quickly, battling with the memories attached to it. The demons.

Lexie gave him a shy smile. “You should come and play with me.” She hesitated. “Maybe you could even teach me some things.” Her hand trailed along the faded case, dust sliding off. “Mom couldn’t afford to get me regular lessons, especially after she bought me my guitar, so I’ve mostly taught myself. YouTube’s great, but it would be so cool to learn off a real life human being,” she finished quietly.

Bull’s stomach clenched. No f*ckin’ way. He could barely look at that thing, let alone touch it again. That was the only reason it sat in a forgotten corner of his garage and not a trash pit. He couldn’t physically put his hands on the thing. No f*ckin’ way was he getting it out to play f*ckin’ teacher to a teenager.

“Yeah, kid, all right. Maybe,” he heard himself saying. He had no clue why he said it. Maybe it was the thought of Mia struggling to give her daughter something she obviously loved. Something she obviously lived for. And then that daughter being smart enough and dedicated enough to teach herself. Maybe he had finally dropped off the f*ckin’ deep end. But the light in the grin that lit up Lexie’s face because of him…that’s what settled in his gut, chasing away the poison that usually resided there.

“Really? That is aces, Zane! I’m free, you know, whenever. Well, apart from when I’m obviously at school. But any time after that. Seriously. Whenever suits you,” she chattered, her words almost blending together.

Bull couldn’t do more than nod. He had already dug himself a huge f*ckin’ hole.

Lexie seemed to sense his need for silence. She wandered back over to where he was working on his bike. And to his complete surprise, she plonked herself down. Right on the grease-stained concrete floor. Right beside him.

“You mind if I sit here and watch for a while?” she asked, her voice back to shy. “Sometimes I just need a bit of quiet after all the music makes up all the noise in my head,” she explained.

Bull somehow found himself unable to do anything but nod again, turning his attention back to his bike. She sat there quietly watching him for close to half an hour. He didn’t find her gaze or the silence uncomfortable. He lived in silence. He was used to it. Welcomed it. But he wasn’t used to the company. He found himself being comforted by it.

As she got up to leave, he found himself uncharacteristically not wanting to be devoid of company. So that’s why he said, “Heard you,” he clipped. “The band. You’re good.”

Her beam and wave goodbye was worth it.





I sat in my car, in the parking lot of the Sons compound…clubhouse…hangout…whatever. Shit. I didn’t even know what to call this place. My biker vocab was limited to the couple of episodes of biker TV shows I watched. And even then I barely paid attention, merely drooled at the main character. On top of everything else, I hadn’t known how to dress for this. I glimpsed down. Black skinny jeans seemed a safe choice. They were Lexie’s, since I didn’t own black skinny jeans. Well, I technically did, since I paid for them; they merely resided in my daughter’s closet. I wore a black long-sleeved blouse made of tight jersey fabric. It looked modest at the front but the drape at the back went way deep, showing a lot of back. I had a chunky silver belt slung over top and my hair was piled into a messy ponytail, showcasing awesome dangling earrings. My makeup was heavy, for me at least, and a vibrant red decorated my lips. It was as biker chic as I was going to get. But thinking of Gwen and Amy, I didn’t worry too much about abiding to some sort of dress code that required leather or chaps. I should more likely be worried about whatever mental condition I had that made me think it was a good idea to accept Gwen’s invitation to a “club party”. Especially to Zane’s club. I hadn’t seen or talked to him since he had spanked and screwed me in the very spot my eyes were focused on right now. He had somehow made me lose all sense of self preservation and let him screw me in a semi-public place. And I loved it. My belly flipped just thinking about it. Which was why I shouldn’t be here. Which was why I had avoided him for the past week. I certainly hadn’t snuck over in the night for some crazy sex, as much as I had wanted to.

I swallowed, then contemplated turning my car back on and driving away. A tapping at the window foiled my plan. I jumped to see Lucky’s attractive face grinning at me. Before I knew it he had opened the door and yanked me out.

“Party isn’t in the car, sweetheart. Let’s get you to the real party,” he declared, slinging his arm around my shoulders.

“Hello to you too, Lucky,” I half laughed, feeling at ease in his presence. He may be a hulking biker covered in tattoos, but I had a feeling he was a puppy dog under all of those muscles. His calm demeanor and perpetual smile had me feeling safe.

“I don’t consider it a proper hello until we both have a beer in our hands,” he exclaimed, directing us through a crowd we had just approached.