Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC 2)

I didn’t know what to do. I stayed on my knees for a second, not caring about the rough stones that were cutting my knees, not feeling anything but the heavy weight on my chest. The weight that threatened to suffocate me. I tried not to hyperventilate. If I continued sucking in air at the rate I was I would pass out.

“Get it together, Amy,” I muttered to myself.

Slowly I managed to get to my feet. I stumbled back into my car and my blood ran cold. Gwen. Shit. She would be a mess. The baby. Fuck.

I broke every traffic law in the book speeding back to Amber, frantically dialing Gwen’s number as I wove through traffic. On getting her voicemail for the fourth time I was about to call Cade when Rosie rang me.

“Rosie, are you with Gwen?” I asked her as soon as I picked up.

“I take it you know,” she paused.

“What?” I snapped, my stomach threatening to roll again at her tone.

“Gwen’s in the hospital, Amy,” she whispered. “She didn’t take the news real well—we don’t know anything just yet,” she explained but I cut her off.

“I’ll be there in ten,” I declared, putting my foot on the gas.

Five minutes later after parking half on the curb of the hospital I burst through the doors. I had broken down for about a minute on the drive, letting the tears fall while I sped through the streets. I had made myself stop once I realized I would have to be strong for my best friend. For her kid. I stormed through the waiting room to be greeted by half of the club. My eyes rested on Brock, who stood upon seeing me but Rosie got to me first, throwing her arms around me.

“I’m so sorry, Ames,” she whispered into my hair. I stood in her arms stiffly and waited until she let me go.

“Where is she?” I demanded.

Tears welled up in Rosie’s eyes. “They weren’t letting anyone see her but Cade just went through those doors.” She pointed to where two pissed off looked orderlies had emerged.

“Right,” I said, pointing my heels in that direction. I ignored everyone around me until Brock stepped in my path.

I glared up at him. “Get out of my way,” I said quietly.

“Sparky,” he murmured softly, his eyes on mine.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let the soft, sympathetic look in his eyes penetrate. If it did I would fall into his arms sobbing. I had to find my friend.

“Get out of my way!” I screamed at him, my voice breaking at the end.

I didn’t care that my voice caused the hushed chatter to cease and put all eyes on me. I only cared that Brock frowned at me a beat then stepped aside. I burst into the room where my best friend was and held onto her for dear life.

The next day, after being assured Gwen was fit to fly, I sped around franticly organizing our trip to New Zealand. I called my father, and upon hearing the news he made sure we had everything we needed, including his jet and a doctor to fly with us. No matter what his emotional shortcomings were he was there with his money and connections when I needed him. They were a poor substitute for a father’s love but useful nonetheless. Because I had been so busy sorting everything out I had the luxury of a busy mind, which meant no free moment to let reality come in and tear me to pieces. I could feel it though. The cold, sharp grief puncturing the frail sense of sanity I was clinging to.

I was determined to shelve my own grief and focus on getting my friend home safe and away from the traitorous dirty cheat of a biker that was hovering around her.

After finding out Gwen had found him in bed with a club whore I had seriously debated the merits of stabbing him with a scalpel, but I deduced Gwen didn’t need the drama and I didn’t want bloodstains on my outfit. I was toying with the idea of accidently plowing into his motorcycle while he was on it.

All of these plans would have to wait since I pulled up to the hospital, bags packed, flights booked, ready for Gwen and I to fly out of this freaking town.

I stopped the car and took a deep breath. Brock was following Cade, who was pushing Gwen in a wheelchair. I did not need that.

I glared at Cade hotly as I rounded the car, wishing looks could kill. I softened my gaze to smile weakly at Gwen. “I’ve got everything we need for our trip, Gwennie. Daddy’s jet is waiting for us at a small airstrip outside of town and it’ll take us to LAX where we’ve got the next plane to Auckland. Daddy also insisted we take his doctor with us on the flight. Just in case.”

I glanced down at her stomach and tried not to let my worry for the little being in there show. I tried to help her out of the chair, doing my best to ignore the heavy stare of two angry bikers. I couldn’t ignore the hand that fastened on my wrist unfortunately.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Amy? You can’t just take the mother of my child halfway across the world. Wherever she goes I go,” he declared roughly.

Oh no, he didn’t. He could not play the concerned father and boyfriend bit after fucking some slut. I was wishing I had sharp objects in the immediate vicinity, couture be damned. I settled for a piercing glare.

“You can take your hand off me right now.” My voice was pure ice.

Luckily for him he complied. He was muscly and tall and all that, but with the cocktail of fury and grief running through my system I figured I could take him.

I helped Gwen up and then my gaze shot back to him.

“I can and I will take Gwen back to her family and her home, to the people that love her. In case you’ve forgotten she’s going to attend the fucking funeral of her only brother,” I hissed at him, ignoring the sharp stab I felt as I uttered the words. “It just happens to be convenient that her home is as far away from you as humanly possible, and a silver lining in this fucking nightmare is the fact that you are a criminal with a record which means you aren’t going anywhere,” I finished on a slight snarl.