Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3)(89)

I had been avoiding Gwen, Rosie, Amy, Lucy, and everyone connected to the club. I didn’t like doing it. In fact, I hated it. I dodged every call I received, ignored every text and deleted every voicemail. I felt like an evil shrew. Lexie was right. They were nice people. The best. I had grown attached to them all, felt a bond with them. It hurt me to have to cut ties like I was doing. I questioned it multiple times, like when I gave in and listened to a voicemail Gwen had left.

“Hey, Mia, it’s me, Gwen, again.” There was a pause. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Bull’s...he’s gone away for a while.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you know that. Look, I get it. Why you’re distancing yourself, Lexie. I understand. It’s a lot. Trust me, I know. But we miss you. Things, they’re better. They’re getting better. The club, they’re always here if you need anything. If Lexie needs anything—” Another pause. “I’m always here if you need to talk or whatever. When you’re ready. Just don’t cut us out, ‘kay?” There was a click signaling the end of the message.

I had stared at my phone a long time after listening to that voicemail. It had been a week since I got it. I missed her. All of them. They were my friends. And avoiding them forever in a town like this was damned near impossible without becoming a hermit. Which was what I was doing. Lexie and I were not hermits. We did things. Apart from when we were watching movies, or when Lexie was devouring a book, we were never stationary. So I was getting cabin fever. Something had to change.

Hence me saying yes to a date with Clay. He had got my number somehow off someone who knew someone who knew someone. Friggin’ small towns. Anyway. My heart was still bleeding; in pieces actually. But I had to do something. So a date it was. A date I was late for. Lexie and Killian were off to some kid’s party that Lexie’s band were playing at. Their street cred had gone up exponentially since the incident, and she was always away for a gig. Which I didn’t like. Hated, actually. But I went to the ones I could, hovering at the back, trying not to have a mental breakdown. Killian went to the rest I couldn’t go to, plus the ones I could. And a party at some kid’s house was not something a mom could go to unless I wanted to subject my daughter to eternal mortification.

So it was a date. Clay had called at exactly the right time as well, when I was feeling weak and like I needed a change. His voice had been all husky and attractive and his words had been all the right ones. Convincing without being pushy, interested without being over the top. Lexie had darkened slightly when I informed her of my date, then she put on a very fake smile and declared she was happy for me. It was safe to say she missed Zane almost as much as I did.

A knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I poked myself in the eye with my mascara wand, causing me to ruin my carefully applied smoky eye makeup.

“Fuck,” I muttered. This was definitely a f*ck moment. I was only wearing one shoe, my makeup now looked like Alice Cooper’s and I was nowhere near mentally prepared to go on a f*cking date.

I glanced at my phone. He was ten minutes early. Since when did grungy hot guys who owned clubs ever turn up ten minutes early? I was expecting him to be at least fifteen minutes late. “Stupid, punctual silver fox,” I muttered, throwing on my other shoe and doing emergency makeup procedures.

“Coming!” I yelled when there was another knock.

I half ran to the door, trying my best not to trip on the journey. Then again, a hospital trip would mean I wouldn’t have to go on the date. I paused. Was I seriously considering maiming myself in order to get out of a date with a perfectly nice and attractive man? “You’re like super early,” I said, opening the door breathless and unharmed, “I was expecting you to be...”

My eyes landed on breasts encased in a kick ass silver tee with a plunging neckline. Last I remember, Clay didn’t have breasts or kick ass silver tees. My eyes traveled to meet pretty blue eyes framed with expertly applied winged liner. They were currently narrowed on me.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Lucy informed me coldly, pushing through the door and storming into my house.

I stood shocked, with the door open for a moment before closing it and following her to the living room. She was sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed and a stern look on her face.

“Sit.” She pointed a well-manicured finger at my chair.

“I’ve actually...” I started.

“Sit,” she repeated.

At her tone my body moved automatically. I thought those long nails might embed themselves in my cheek if I didn’t.

She barely waited for my ass to hit the cushion before she started.

“You need to cut the shit,” her throaty voice declared. I had never heard Lucy speak in anything but a soft tone; the hardness under her words surprised me.

“What?” I began.

Again, she interrupted me. “You going all radio silent on everyone. On your girls. That shit is not cool,” she informed me with narrowed eyes.

“Lucy,” I tried once more.

“No,” she snapped. “You cut yourself off from the club. Your decision. Stupid one. But I get it. You do not, however, cut yourself off from your girlfriends,” she informed me snippily. I didn’t even have time to get a word in. “For a start, Gwen needs you. She’s having trouble with Belle and kid shit. Us,” she pointed to herself. “Much as we would like to help, we don’t know shit about kids. It’s not just her wanting you back ‘cause she needs your mom’s wisdom. She just plain misses you and Lexie.” She gave me a meaningful look. “We all do,” she finished softly.