Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(52)

“Yeah, baby! Work it!” the voice yelled as Lexie started her second song. The sounds of his leers were drowned out by the crowd and the band. But Bull could f*ckin’ hear him. As could Cade and Brock, who were glaring at the drunken f*cker leering at Lexie.

Bull saw red. He fingered the gun inside his cut, wanting to shoot the f*cker’s dick off for the way his way looking at a sixteen-year-old girl. Mia’s girl.

“Gunshots might ruin the band’s sound,” Brock remarked blandly from beside him.

Bull nodded stiffly. As much as he would love to make him bleed, shooting the bastard would only ruin Lexie’s night. He took a deep breath and moved his hand from his piece. Instead, he moved closer to the man and his equally inebriated friends, moving slightly in front of them. He lifted his arm and jabbed his elbow back so it collided with his nose. Bull was satisfied with the loud crack that followed and the groan of pain as the bastard fell to the floor.

“Hey!” one of his friends started to protest.

Bull narrowed his eyes at him, communicating in one look that he would repay the favor if they tried to defend their f*ckwit of a friend. He felt his brothers at his back.

“We would kindly suggest you escort your perverted friend to the nearest exit before we chop his balls off,” Brock said cheerfully.

The men blanched. Even through the alcohol haze, they could see that they weren’t joking. They half dragged their bleeding friend to the door, looking back anxiously.

“Pussies,” Brock muttered before turning back to the stage and sipping his beer.

Bull struggled to contain his anger as he did the same. It helped that five minutes later Lexie’s eyes met his as she belted out her next song, and she grinned from ear to ear. The warmth that spread through him at such a simple smile worried him. The kid acted like he was someone worth smiling at, worth talking to. He wasn’t. He killed people. People that deserved it, definitely. But people who didn’t. Innocents. Wasn’t it his actions that killed the most innocent being to walk this earth? The most beautiful soul. The only thing she did was love him. And he repaid her by getting her killed and defiled in the worst way possible. Bile rose up in his throat at the images that rushed in with those thoughts. Images that hadn’t assaulted him in a while. Images that he thought he was fighting back. Images that almost made him eat his gun two years ago. Now, with the prospect of not one, but two people he cared about getting damaged because of him, he couldn’t take it. Thing was, he couldn’t leave either. He clenched his fists.

With all the poison swirling through his body he hadn’t realized that the band had finished.

“You think we’re going to be able to get them out of here without a fight?” Brock asked Cade casually.

Cade’s face darkened. “Gwen is leaving. Whether she likes it or not. Shouldn’t have even let them come. Shit’s uncertain at the moment. She wants to go and watch a f*ckin’ band.” He shook his head tightly, eyes on his pregnant wife who grinned at him and waved.

Brock slapped him on the shoulder before sipping his beer. “Do you let Gwen do anything? Bitch does what she wants and you ain’t got no say. I speak from experience.” He grinned at Amy who blew him a kiss.

Bull was focused on Mia, who paled slightly when meeting his gaze. Good. She should be f*ckin’ scared. He was going to tan her ass tonight. Bringing Lexie to a club. Making him f*ckin’ care so much. His frown deepened as she hugged the women and pushed her way through the crowd in the opposite direction she should have gone. The women started toward them and Bull struggled not to follow Mia.

“Hey sweetie,” Amy said as she strutted up to Brock with a grin. He tagged her waist as soon as she was in grabbing distance.

“Jesus, Sparky,” he muttered against her mouth.

She leaned back. “What?” she asked innocently.

Cade had Gwen in a similar clutch, his hand on her belly. Though his gaze wasn’t as teasing. Fucker got high-strung with Gwen pregnant.

Rosie and Lucy joined the party, their faces flushed with an obvious glow from booze.

“How good was Lexie’s band?” Rosie half shouted. No one answered so she poked Bull in the ribs. “Come on, even big macho silent types like yourself have to admit the kid has pipes,” she joked lightheartedly, smiling at him.

He failed to smile back; though she was used to it, Rosie’s smile dimmed slightly at the no doubt furious expression he was wearing. He couldn’t help it. He was pissed as f*ck at Mia, at himself, at the f*ckin’ world.

Understanding washed over her face. “Mia went backstage to get the kids and take them home,” she said. She pretended to address the whole group but gave him a sideways glance. “Just in case anyone wanted to know where she is,” she added with a mischievous grin in his direction.

With that declaration, Gwen gave him a small smile, ignoring Cade’s glare. He felt uncomfortable with the attention on him so he gave a chin lift to his brothers and headed to find his woman.





Before I could find a way to extract myself from the situation, Zane yanked me to his side, his arm sliding around my neck. I was too surprised even to resist.

Clay’s eyes flared, but otherwise he showed no emotion at Zane’s appearance and the gesture. The gesture that communicated possession.

“Bull,” he nodded.

Zane didn’t say anything; he only glared at Clay, who didn’t seem too worried. Before Zane could commence disemboweling him as his look suggested, a teenage voice broke through.