Hyde's Absolution (Sydney Storm MC 4)

“Yeah.”

The hard determination King was well known for returned to his eyes. “Storm is behind you, brother. Whatever you need, you have.”

Fuck. No. Not what I was looking for. “It’s not as clear cut as you think. I need to think about how anything I do could affect Tenille and Charlotte.” And how it will affect Storm. No fucking way was I involving King or any of the club in this shit.

King was smart, but he always proved you didn’t know the half of it. Leaning forward, he said, “I don’t give a fuck who he is or who he’s connected to. And I sure as hell don’t give a fuck that you’re trying to protect the club. Storm doesn’t let a brother handle shit on their own, especially not when the stench of that shit comes from the places I suspect it comes from. You go see what your family is dealing with. I’ll give you enough time to do that, and then I want you checking in with me so we can figure out how to take this motherfucker down.”

I pushed out a harsh breath. “Fuck, King, this isn’t something Storm needs at the moment. Not with all the heat we’re under. That you’re under.”

His chair scraped against the floor as he abruptly stood. “I won’t leave you out in the fucking cold on your own, Hyde. That’s not how I operate. And if it brings me more heat, so fucking be it.” He threw some money down on the table before stalking out of the pub.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Shane Gibson was not a man that Storm wanted to cross. Any power that King had, Gibson had it ten-fucking-fold. I threw back the rest of my whisky as I resolved to make it my mission to find a way to keep King out of this shit.

Chapter 2

Hyde

My wife was a beautiful woman. Even half drunk, stumbling across her front lawn screaming at her husband, she was stunningly beautiful. Fourteen years after I’d last laid eyes on her, she still took my breath away.

Tenille had made some changes, though. The long black hair I’d loved had been replaced with a shorter cut that hit her shoulders. Still looked good, but not my preference. And the curves I’d loved on her had been ditched. Her body was stick-thin instead, and that was a fucking shame as far as I was concerned.

I stood in the shadows of her neighbour’s house watching her argue with her husband, Craig. It was just after nine at night, and he’d come home late. She’d started in on him immediately, until they’d brought the fight outside. He’d exited their home first, and she’d chased after him. Her drunken state didn’t help her. She’d almost tripped in her haste to catch him before he got in his car. He’d caught her before she fell, but had pushed her away while they continued arguing about her drinking and the money missing from their bank account.

I’d arrived in Melbourne late that afternoon and had intended to get eyes on Tenille’s place, suss out the area and then crash at my motel before going back to see her in the morning. I didn’t want our first conversation after fourteen years to be late at night when everyone was tired. However, my plans changed when their fight became physical. No fucking way would I stand by and watch a woman get hurt. Especially not my wife.

I covered the distance between the three of us fast but not fast enough to stop his palm from connecting with her cheek. Everything that happened in the few moments after was a blur. Between them yelling at each other, Tenille trying to hit him back, me trying to intercept, and Tenille’s shock when she realised who I was, I wasn’t sure how it all went down. But I would never forget the look on her face as recognition set in.

“Aiden?” My name fell from her lips on a strangled cry. I felt every ounce of her pain and confusion in that cry. And the knowledge that I’d caused her any kind of agony cut deeper than it had in the past fourteen years.

“What the fuck?” Craig’s confusion mirrored Tenille’s. We’d never met, so he had no way of knowing me, but he knew my name.

“No… it can’t be. You’re dead,” Tenille said as she lurched my way, bewilderment splashed across her face.

“Tenille,” I started, but stopped when she gasped.

“Oh my God!” She stood in front of me, eyes wide, and placed her hand against my cheek. “You look different, but I would know that voice anywhere,” she said as she brought her other hand to my face also.

I did look different. I’d packed on a fuckload of muscle, inked half of my skin and grown a beard. I sure as hell wasn’t the scrawny kid she’d married.

She madly moved her hands over my face, as if she was trying to feel for something she recognised. I gave her a few moments and then r

eached for one of her hands to stop her. “It’s me.”

Her breathing slowed at the same time her hands did. Her body stilled also. And then she slapped me, right about the same time her eyes flashed with anger. “You fucking bastard! Where the fuck have you been?”

I deserved that slap, so I took it. But when she started in on me by punching my chest, I shut that shit down fast. Grabbing both her hands, I pulled them away from my body. “I see some things haven’t changed,” I muttered. Tenille had often used physical violence in an attempt to get her point across.

“Yeah, well when I discover my husband didn’t really die, but rather just left me without another word, you can bet your fucking ass I’m going to react this way.”

Craig took that moment to step in. Finally. If I were him, I would have involved myself from the beginning. “You’ve got a fucking nerve showing up like this. I dragged Tenille from the shit you left her in. If you think I’m about to let you back into her life, to screw her over again, you’re seriously mistaken, asshole.”

I’d held my temper in check because I owed Tenille the space to be angry and hurt. But I didn’t fucking owe this asshole a thing. My shoulder’s tensed as I met his gaze. “I don’t want a fucking thing. But let’s get something straight here, Craig. You didn’t drag Tenille from any-fucking-thing. I made sure she was set up financially before I left. I made sure she had everything she needed. By the time you came on the scene, she wasn’t in any shit. But you’ve sure as fuck put here there now, haven’t you, motherfucker?”

“Fuck you!” he spat as he threw a punch at me.