Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC 3)

His eyes did that thing again where they spoke for him, saw right into me. He squeezed my hips and laid a light kiss on my head. We sat there for a long time, his forehead resting on mine, saying everything without speaking.

One Month Later

“Are you freaking joking?” Sam near shouted, pushing out of his chair.

Lexie was grinning ear to ear and shook her head.

“Holy shit!” Wyatt also half yelled. He sheepishly looked at me. “Sorry, Mia.”

I smiled back at him. “I think my delicate parental ears may recover soon from such a cuss out,” I told him sarcastically.

“This is going to do like, freaking wonders for our image,” Sam continued, pacing the room. He stopped and faced his friends on the sofa. “Like the Sons of Templar, the baddest of the bad asses, want us to play at a party.” He put his eyes to the sky. “Huge, dudes.”

“Well, it isn’t exactly the baddest of the bad asses that requested your presence,” I cut in, hating to put a damper on the teenage boy freakout. “It’s the wife of said bad ass, but they did allow it,” I added, hoping that wouldn’t totally bum them out.

Sam shook his head, waving his hand. “Doesn’t matter who requested us—we still got the gig.” He turned back to Lexie and the other bandmates. “We need to figure out set lists like, yesterday. No girly shit that makes us seem like pussies.” He eyed Lexie, who rolled her eyes. The talk then went to potential songs and about their “street cred” to which I switched off.

Gwen had asked if I was okay with Lexie and her band playing for her and Cade’s second wedding anniversary party. I had mixed feelings about my daughter playing in a band for a motorcycle club, fearing that ’Bad Mom” label might pop out from somewhere, namely the PTA mothers at her school. I already wasn’t popular. I turned up late, sipping coffee and mostly trying not to fall asleep, despite the coffee. I didn’t even want to be on a freaking PTA anything, but I felt it was some sort of motherly duty.

I had said yes in the end. Namely because I had already been to club gatherings, and apart from the drunken guy that groped me, nothing unsavory had gone down. Well, apart from me getting fucked against the wall that one time, but that was totally consensual. Gwen had assured me this party was a lot more G rated. The club girls, or “sweet butts” as they were called, were banished for the day, and families and kids were replaced. I’m pretty sure she uttered that it was going to be more like a picnic. Not that I guessed any of the bad asses that were going to be there would let such a phrase pass their mouths. Nor would they let such a label be put on any event that happened at their clubhouse. But then again, Cade seemed to relent to anything Gwen had asked him from what I could see.

I had been hanging around the club a lot lately. There was always some sort of gathering, barbecue or dinner that Lexie and I were invited to. Now that I was Zane’s “Old Lady”, I was part of the crew. Not that he acted like Cade and Brock did around their women. He barely touched me when we were at these events, merely watched me from a distance with his eyes burning. Now and then, he’d surprise me when I was walking from the bathroom or to freshen my drink, pressing me up against a wall, a tree, or an abandoned car for a steamy make out session. Then he’d abruptly walk away, leaving me all hot and bothered and confused. I was getting a little hurt by this behavior and would have seriously thought he didn’t feel the same way for me as I did about him, if it wasn’t for the nights. The nights when he would consume my mind, body, and soul with ruthless and beautiful fucking. He then would clutch me tight to his body all night, leaving me sated and exhausted to pass out in the warmth of his arms. He would normally wake me up with his mouth or his dick; either way it wasn’t a bad way to start the day.

The odd morning he’d have breakfast with Lexie and I, cooking for us and ruffling Lexie’s head affectionately. He didn’t say much, mostly just observed and let us bask in the warm glow of his presence. Lexie didn’t blink at this. In fact, she loved it. She and Zane seemed to have a special sort of connection. They played guitar together when he got home, her voice carrying over their soft strums. Despite this, he seemed to be holding back, keeping secrets. There was still trouble behind his eyes, fury that would appear at the strangest of moments, then simmer down behind his blank mask. Then there was something else. Pain. Pain beyond anything I’d ever seen behind anyone’s eyes. It would appear sometimes after he was done fucking me, still inside me, watching me. Or when he was playing with strands of my hair, holding it and staring at it so hard I wondered what could possibly be working in his mind.

I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like I wasn’t keeping secrets either. Mine were buried deep, like his. And like I suspected his were, mine would always be there, tearing at the pieces of my broken soul.

“Mia.” A deep voice shocked me out of my inner turmoil. Lucky as well. Dark corners of my mind were not places to linger in. I turned from the kitchen window I had blankly been staring out.

Zane was leaning against the doorway, looking delectable and dangerous in his usual all black. His cut, like always, was over top of his black Henley. His eyes were narrowed at me, searching. “There a reason the little fucks in there,” he jerked his head toward the living room, “were hounding me ‘bout my favorite fuckin’ song?” he clipped with irritation.