Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)(28)

He stared at me, something working behind his eyes. “You know club rules, Macy? Been around long enough to know them?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been around long enough to know them. Long enough to consider the club my everything. My family. I’m happy to respect those rules, backward and sexist as they are. I’m happy to accept the fact that in your world you haven’t quite caught on to the fact women have been enjoying equal rights for the past few decades…” I paused. “I don’t even care that the club is into some shady shit that comes with the life I’ve decided to live. I’m happy to overlook all of that, ‘cause what I get in return makes it worth it. Or it did…” I narrowed my eyes. “But you welcome a murderer, my parents’ murderer, knowingly welcome him into your lives? Makes me realize, I’ve never been part of your family. So how about you shove your rules right up the back of your bike’s exhaust,” I suggested with venom.

There was a heavy silence once I’d uttered my last word. Levi was regarding me with wide eyes. Hansen had entered the room when I wasn’t looking. His face was thunder, and he held himself tautly, eyes on Grim as if he was expecting him to do something. Like he was expecting to have to attack his president in defense of me.

Grim surprised the shit out of everyone in the room by grinning slightly.

“You’re lucky it’s only Levi and Hansen in here darlin’. Otherwise, I’d be obligated to treat that little performance, and the disrespect, a lot differently.” His words may have been easy, but I heard the veiled threat. “As it is, I know both these men care for you a great deal. One arguably more than the other, considering he’s claimed you.”

My eyes involuntarily locked with Hansen’s for a moment. It was coming back in, all of it, the feelings.

“So…” Grim continued, oblivious to the moment, “…I’ll be chalking that up to the fact that you’ve had a... trying day.” He stepped forward. “You’re lucky that it just so happens that that scumbag was on our shit list, on account of the fact he robbed someone in our family of their parents, among other things…” he paused. “If you don’t get the club in serious shit with your impulsive and reckless trigger finger, I’ll still consider you part of my family, provided you aren’t armed in the future,” he added. “That shit, you not doing that when the ATF of Feds aren’t parked outside our door. It’s just dumb luck.” He stepped forward. “You do something like that again, put the club in danger, I won’t be so forgiving,” he promised.

We held eye contact for a long time and I tried to let his words sink in.

Grim didn’t let me say anything, didn’t wait for a response. He turned to Levi. “Keep her here, till we can get this shit taken care of,” he ordered.

Levi nodded.

He gave me another look then left.

I stood there listening to the sound of a Harley roar off, feeling two sets of eyes on me. I didn’t think about that, though. The shock, the adrenaline, it was all wearing off. That wall that separated what I just done from the rest of me falling away.

I killed a man.

On that thought, I darted out of the room and into what I guessed correctly was the bathroom. I made it just in time to empty the meager contents of my stomach. I felt a presence behind me, felt his hands rubbing my back.

I failed to feel embarrassed over the fact he was watching me vomit. He’d just saw me blow a man’s head off, it was safe to say he was already disgusted with me. I’d blown myself firmly off that pedestal and into the gutter.

I finally finished emptying my stomach, trying to purge away the feeling that had settled under my skin once I pulled that trigger. I feared that it would never go away. It was burned on my soul forever.

Hansen helped me off the floor and I didn’t look at him. I moved to the grimy sink, planning on splashing water in my mouth. That was until I caught a glimpse of my reflection. My blood splattered face. I froze. I knew I couldn’t throw up anymore, but I felt the overwhelming urge to empty the poisonous bile at the bottom of my stomach. I slowly looked down to my white tee, it was flecked with splatters of red.

I started shaking. My entire body, so hard I felt my teeth clatter together.

Hansen’s hands fastened over mine, he tilted my chin to capture my eyes.

“Breathe, baby, it’s okay,” he whispered.

“It-it’s not okay, I’m co-covered in blood,” I stuttered. “I need to get it off, now,” I said trying to rip my hands from his. I needed to scrub every inch of evidence of what I’d done from my body.

He moved his hands to my neck. “You’re going into shock, baby. You need to breathe,” he said softly.

I tried to jerk out of his grasp, he held me tight. “I need to get it off!” I screeched hysterically.

Hansen seemed to get it, he nodded and released my hands. Moving to close the door, I heard him turning on a shower. I was too busy ripping my clothes off, needing them away, somewhere where I couldn’t see them, couldn’t feel them.

Hansen moved back to me, silently taking over undressing me. Once I was naked, I stood there shivering, not from the cold in the air that prickled my bare skin, but from the inside that chilled my veins.

Hansen quickly took his own clothes off, mingling them with mine. I didn’t have time to question him as he directed us both to the shower. I stood woodenly under the spray, my desperation to get clean seemed to have disappeared. I had turned into some sort of zombie, unable to move, flashbacks what I had done replaying in my brain.