Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC 3)

“Tell me about them,” he instructed quietly.

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Tell me about them,” he repeated, voice still low.

My body locked in place. Now that Zane had me still, it all caught up to me. Threatened to destroy me with the sharp talons of grief. “I,” I choked on the first word. “I can’t, I’ve got to…”

Zane’s arms tightened around me. “Yes babe, you can. You need to tell me every happy memory you have of them, bring them up to the front of your mind so the demons can’t get in. You need to bring the light in before the darkness settles,” he told me in a resolute tone. One that seemed to speak from experience.

I paused. Zane’s strong arms tightened around me. I was safe. He had me.

I took a deep breath. “Ava used to bake all the time. She was a firm believer in using food and sugar to heal all aliments.” I paused. “I have no idea how Lexie didn’t contract diabetes from the amount of raw cookie dough she ate. Even though Ava threatened to tan her with a wooden spoon for doing it, although she never would, Lexie was the light of her life,” I smiled at the memory. “This one time…”

And there it was. The light. It didn’t dampen the pain, didn’t come close. That knife was still digging into my ribs, making it hard to breathe. But Zane’s arms around me, the comfort of memories, that’s what kept the darkness from swallowing me up.

I awoke with a jolt. The room was pitch black and there was a warmth at my back.

“Mia?” Zane’s gravelly voice was alert and full of concern, as if he had been lying awake the entire time.

I didn’t let myself think of it. Reality. The grim and heartbreaking reality. That was all out there. In here it was only me and Zane. Two weeks I hadn’t touched him, tasted him, felt him inside me. I needed him. So that’s why I twisted around from our spooning position, pushing Zane on his back and landing on top of his body.

“Mia,” he half whispered, his voice was dark with desire. I felt him hard underneath me.

“Fuck me, Zane,” I pleaded against his mouth.

I expected him to argue, say I was too upset or some crap like that. Instead, the moment the words came out of my mouth he flipped me on my back, capturing me in an earth shattering, panty melting kiss. We were a flurry of lips and teeth, desperate to get each other’s clothes off. I’m pretty sure Zane ripped my panties off in the end. He licked, bit and tasted every part of me, as if he had been away from my body for years, not weeks.

When he finally plunged inside of me, I almost came from him just filling me, from his brutal thrust.

He hovered over me, not moving. I could feel every inch of his body tense, his mouth hovering over mine. “I’m never leavin’ you,” he promised in a low voice. “No matter what,” he added before he started to move and no more words were spoken. No more words were needed.

A loud groaning sound awoke me. I weakly unstuck my eyes and searched for the source, groggy and confused. The sound repeated and I discovered it was coming from me, or more accurately my stomach. It occurred to me I hadn’t eaten since lunch at Rosie’s, and by the look of the light peeking through the windows it was the next day. I flinched at the reason why I hadn’t eaten. Steve. Ava. Dead. Another thought assaulted my mind, one more important than my own grief, more important than the empty space in my bed that had previously been occupied by a large biker. Lexie.

I jumped out of bed and almost tripped in my haste. I looked down. Motorcycle boots. He was still here. Of course he was. I hadn’t forgotten his firm promise in the moonlight. As much as I wanted to focus on that, I couldn’t. My mind was instantly overrun with the grim reality of the loss I had to battle through. That Lexie had to battle through.

But first, coffee.

Stumbling downstairs was hard through the cloud of grief that threatened to bring me to my knees, but I managed. The smell of bacon and coffee carried through from the kitchen, as did the voices.

“Do you think we should wake Mom?” I heard Lexie ask.

I moved to lean against the doorway to the kitchen and felt my heart flutter slightly.

“We’ll let her sleep, Lex. She’ll wake when she’s ready,” Zane answered softly.

He was standing at the stove, with his back to me, as was Lexie, leaning against the counter close to him. She was wearing her PJ’s and sipping from a mug. Zane was fully dressed, his cut resting on the back of a chair at the table.

“Either that or her body will go into caffeine withdrawals,” Lexie joked with a lightness that held a note of sorrow. My girl was being strong.

There was silence for a moment, the sizzling of the bacon the only sound in my small kitchen. I contemplated announcing my presence, but there was a peace in the silence between them, a companionable silence. I was loath to interrupt the sight of Zane doing such a domestic task as cooking breakfast, chatting to my daughter. It looked so natural. Don’t asked me how my little girl in her owl-printed PJ’s and a huge biker covered in tattoos, both standing in my kitchen looked natural. It just did.

She peered at him over her coffee cup, still not seeing me. “Do you believe in Heaven, Zane?” she asked on a broken note.

I choked up at the pain behind her small question. I almost pushed off the wall and gathered her in my arms. Zane was quicker than me.

He moved the pan off the burner and turned to face Lexie. His hand moved to cup her face lightly.

“Not sure about God, girl. Don’t believe in something that would cause so much pain to people that deserve a lifetime of happiness,” he stated roughly. “But I do believe those people, those good people, go somewhere better, somewhere they deserve,” he continued quietly, eyes on Lexie.