Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)(31)

One month later



I stared at the screen. I’d been staring at it for five hours straight and my eyes hurt. My back ached. But my mind was busy. That was good. Necessary. My mind needed to be occupied, it could never be empty. With emptiness came memories.

The past month I’d battled against them. Against the dreams that jerked me awake at night. The flashbacks that had me lose my breakfast. It was hard. I’d killed a man. Yes, he was evil, the worst kind, but it didn’t change what I’d done. And what I’d done had changed me. I tried to keep my optimism, my happy outlook, my smile. I buried myself in work, baked up a freaking storm in Hansen’s kitchen, went out with Arianne when Hansen had to be at the club. Though, I never had more than a couple of drinks, mindful of the demons that Hansen had buried. Of the mother he was yet to talk about. That might be because he was too busy watching me with an eagle eye, waiting for me to have my inevitable breakdown.

The first time I went to the club was the hardest. Saw the spot where I’d done it. The spot which had obviously been scrubbed clean, losing any evidence that it was the location of a murder. I had expected the men to be mad, furious at the fact that I had endangered the club, put them all at risk, made them dispose of a body for me. I’d been beyond surprised at the nods of respect, at the gentle squeezes they gave me, devoid of any form of anger. The biggest surprise was Hammer. He had approached me after Jagger had kissed my cheek with a sad glint to his vibrant emerald eyes. Hansen turned to stone beside me, mindful of the fact Hammer didn’t exactly love women. Hammer ignored him.

“Took guts… what you did. Was stupid as f*ck, don’t get me wrong, and had you done anything to make the club go down for it, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now,” he started roughly.

Hansen made a sound in his throat and stepped forward, I pulled on his hand, stopping him.

“But, club’s good. So that’s a non-issue. Get the need for revenge, for justice, didn’t think a bitch like you would have the stomach to carry it out,” he continued as if Hansen hadn’t almost just charged him. He didn’t say anything else, merely nodded to me and walked off.

I’d been utterly shocked at that speech. One that hinted there was more to Hammer than an apparent resentment of women and temper problems. Something that caused those eyes to turn dark and empty.

That was the last the guys spoke of it. Everyone treated me as normal, apart from Jagger, who was a bit softer with me than usual, like he was expecting me to fall apart. Hansen was the same, he had spent every spare second with me. He tried to act normal, but every now and then I saw concern seep into his features.

He was the only reason I made it through. I couldn’t tell Arianne. Obviously, I couldn’t tell anyone apart from the handful of men who already witnessed it. So Hansen was the one who gave me strength, who held me tight when nightmares jerked me awake. Who made love to me like I was still his everything, despite my actions. I was slowly coming back to myself, with the support of my family, my man, my club. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have a long way to go.

I tried my best to keep to my routine, including visiting Grandma, which didn’t do much for my state of mind. Robert and I had weekly coffee dates after our respective visits. I found it refreshing, talking to someone completely removed from my lifestyle. Someone who didn’t know I was a murderer.

“Babe?” Hansen’s voice jerked me out of the past and into the present.

I moved my head from the computer screen to fasten my eyes to his. They were brimming with concern. “How long you been sitting in front of that thing?” he asked tightly.

I stood and stretched. “Ummm… depends on how long you think I’ve been sitting there,” I hedged.

Hansen’s hungry eyes roved over my denim cut-offs and white tee that read, ‘I’m not short, I’m a hobbit.’ His mouth turned into a grin and he shook his head, tagging my waist so my body collided with his.

“How many of those things do you have?” he murmured against my mouth.

“I haven’t got an exact number, but it’s in double digits,” I informed him.

He chuckled slightly.

“Never thought I’d find that geek shit as hot as I do, babe. But somehow it manages to get my cock hard as stone,” he said, his whiskers tickling my cheek.

I smiled at him. “Well sir, we may just have to do something about that,” I informed him in a throaty voice.

I kissed him what I intended to be lightly, but instead he clutched the back of my head and beautifully claimed my mouth. I almost forgot my mission once he’d released me, but the hard on pressing against my stomach reminded me. I winked my slightly dreamy eye, moving down his body, lovingly running my hands along his leather vest.

When I knelt to the floor and released him from his jeans, I licked my lips, moving forward to taste the pre-cum at the head of his cock.

He hissed and his hands went to lightly cradle my head. I took him fully into my mouth, loving the whispered curse of pleasure he emitted. I worked him lovingly, running my hands along his shaft as I sucked, moving slow but deep.

“Macy,” he grunted, his voice rough with desire.

I kept going.

“Macy,” he repeated. “Gonna cum, babe. You don’t want me to fill up that sweet mouth, you stop now,” he ordered.