Deadline to Damnation (Sons of Templar MC 7)

Not having coffee. Because every time I drank the bitter and sweet I’d taste Liam’s kiss. I’d smell the lemon disinfectant that was always present and needed in the club kitchen. I’d remember Claw coming in and snatching my bagel before I got a chance to bite it. I’d remember Liam punching Claw for stealing my bagel.

I’d remember Macy coming in and demanding I go shopping for new baby clothes with her and then torturing whatever prospect was assigned to us with hours of baby shopping and girl talk.

I sipped my coffee thinking all that, leaning against the kitchen counter. On cue, Liam looked up from his phone—he was always on it as things got more tense—and took my chin in his hands, kissing me.

The feeling was immediate, intense, and not at all pleasant. My vision blurred, images played in the forefront of my mind, images that overlaid this scene almost perfectly. As if from a memory.

But you couldn’t remember something that hadn’t even happened yet.

But I remembered it.

This had happened.

Somewhere.

Not in my dreams. Because my dreams didn’t conjure up such cruelty.

“What?” Liam demanded, hands steadying me.

I hadn’t even realized I’d swayed slightly until Liam’s grip yanked me from whatever past or future I was lost in.

I blinked at the concern in his eyes. “Déjà vu,” I whispered.

His eyes cleared of concern. Something else lay there.

A memory.

“I have a theory,” I said, drawing lines on Liam’s chest. It was a good chest. Muscular. Tanned. Not too much chest hair.

My fingers trailed through droplets of water, evidence of the fact we’d come straight from our swim to lay on the hot stones of the shore, not bothering to towel off. The sun was hot enough to dissipate most of the moisture in no time.

His eyes glowed as his hands tightened on my bare hips.

Okay, so the sun wasn’t gonna take away all the moisture.

“What’s that, Peaches?” he asked, voice warmer than the sun itself.

“That we have a path. Destiny,” I said. “Something is laid out for us before we’re even born. Or maybe as soon as we’re born. As soon as we breathe air in this world. And because of a nifty little thing called free will, and because of our ignorance to this plan, we naturally veer on and off course. Life. Mistakes. Accidents. Whatever. But sometimes we line up perfectly with our course. We start walking on the road destiny had paved for us. And because it was already there, it feels familiar, like we’ve walked it before. Déjà vu. So, whenever we get that, it means we’re walking the right line, that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be. Following our destiny. And whenever it involves another person, it naturally means they’re following their path too” My fingers stopped. “And I’ve never felt it more when I’m with you.”

Something moved in his eyes, something that took away the teasing of before. But not the warmth. “Well, of course, Peaches,” he murmured. “You’re my destiny. Makes sense that was decided long ago.”

A grip that wasn’t soft like it had been in the past brought me back to the present with a jolt. Those eyes were no longer warm like the sun. They were scorching like the fires of hell itself. “So you’re living your destiny,” he said, voice less than a whisper. “It’s a cruel world indeed if the universe decides to give someone as beautiful as you a destiny this ugly.”

I flinched. “You actually think that of yourself?” I whispered.

“When I began, I was not a perfect soldier, but I like to think I was a good man. But then…it changed. I changed. I became the perfect soldier. And the better I got at being a soldier, the worse I became at being a man. At being a fucking human being.”

Macy’s words echoed in my brain.

“Human beings are capable of some of the most horrific things. So I think it stands to reason that human beings are also capable of forgiving some of the most horrific acts.”

“I forgive you,” I whispered, putting my coffee down.

He froze. “For what?”

“For everything,” I said. “I forgive you. For not coming back. For leaving in the first place. I forgive you for surviving the only way you thought you could.” I touched my lips to his, leaned back and ran my finger down the scar on his face. “I forgive you, Liam.”

His eyes shimmered, his entire face changed, moved back eleven years for a moment. “I love you, Peaches.” But then it changed back, turned feral and the gentle words disappeared because his hand tagged the back of my neck and he kissed me fiercely, brutally.

I kissed him back with the same fierceness.

He lifted me onto the counter. The coffee cup smashed to the ground. Neither of us stopped. Liam was too busy yanking at my leggings, lifting me so he could get them down to my ankles. He didn’t even take off my panties, he just yanked them to the side, pulled down his sweats and entered me.