Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC 2)

“Garrett, now that you’ve pounced on my daughter do you mind releasing her so we can assure ourselves she is not suffocated?” My mother’s cultured voice was dripping with disdain.

Garrett held me a moment longer in rebellion before he let me go. “Oh, I’m sorry, Katherine, did my display of emotion that my niece was living and breathing make you uncomfortable?” he asked sarcastically.

My mother chose to ignore him, casting a judgmental eye over me. My outfit was sure to give her an aneurism. I was wearing loose yoga pants so they didn’t compress my bandages. My tee, which I thought rocked, had the Sons of Templar insignia on it and was tight, baring some of my midriff. Brock’s eyes had turned dark when he saw me in it and I deduced I would wear the shirt more often. For once a well-put together designer outfit was not high on my list of priorities. But if she had one comment on it I think I might just try and strangle her with her pearls.

She seemed to sense this and stayed silent on the outfit front, stepping her pumps forward to stand close enough I could smell the Chanel.

“Amy, my dear. We’re glad you’re back.” She lightly touched my shoulders, giving me air kisses.

“Yes. Well, Mother, one could only stay so long against their will before it got dull.” I matched her tone that communicated we were talking about a spa retreat rather than a kidnapping. Like Garrett’s remark she chose to let that one fly over her perfectly styled head.

My father stepped around her to stand in front of me. The expression on his face was tortured and even miserable for a second until he disguised it. “Amy. I apologize you had to get caught up in this unpleasantness,” he said blandly.

I raised my eyebrows at his choice of words and felt Brock’s body behind me still. Garrett’s face also got red. I could tell he was about to let loose but I thought I’d beat him to it. “You and your business partner seem to run from the same playbook,” I told him, meeting his eyes.

He had the good grace to pale slightly. “Amy, I….”

I didn’t let him finish. “You see, Clark Devon also referred to me being tasered, handcuffed to a bed, and being held against my will as ‘unpleasantness’.” I used air quotes. “As if being held captive was equal to the valet scratching your car or eating bad food at a restaurant. I think I would beg to differ about the degree of unpleasantness I experienced. I find it ironic that I had to suffer through your indifference as a child and now your business got me taken against my will. How it almost killed me. How are you going to explain that, Daddy Dearest?”

“Do not talk to your father in such a manner, Amy Abrams!” my mother chimed in, looking disgusted.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mother. I think any respect I had for this man died away when his actions got me kidnapped and tortured!” I snapped at her.

She assessed me. “You can’t lay all of the blame on your father. You were the one sitting in some filthy bar in New Mexico drinking yourself into a stupor. What did you expect would happen to you, Amy?”

Silence followed this statement.

I felt Brock’s heat at my back as he stepped forward and I could feel the fury rolling off him in waves. “Are you fucking serious, Katherine?” Garrett boomed from beside my mother, his normally carefree face distorted in fury.

My mother looked at him in aghast. “I understand due to the company we are surrounded by you are tempted to think cursing in such a manner is an appropriate way to talk to me. I assure you it is not.”

“Trust me, Sis, you’re lucky I’m holding myself back,” he sneered. “You’re honestly trying to lay the blame for all of this shit on your daughter? Did they remove your black, shriveled excuse for a heart in your last surgery?”

“Now you wait just a minute—” My father attempted to defend my mother’s honor.

“Oh, I would shut your mouth right now if I were you, Harold. The only reason why I haven’t broken your nose is due to the fact this girl has come back breathing.” Garrett pointed to me with his eyes still locked on my father. “But believe me, I’m holding on by a thread here.” He turned his attention back to my mother.

“I’ve kept my mouth shut for most of Amy’s life. I’ve watched you ignore her, insult her, and deny her any kind of decent human affection for twenty-five years. And by some miracle she turned out to be the person she is today, in spite of having a reptile for a mother. What I will not do is stand here and watch you not only try and lay the blame on your daughter for what she went through, but ignore the reason which is standing right beside you,” he yelled, gesturing to my father. “I’ve held on to my connection to you out of necessity in order to give Amy some semblance of family, and through a misguided idea that since we’re related by blood I’m obligated to share your air.” He looked her up and down. “Now I have no such urge to ever talk to you ever again, you emotionless bitch,” he hissed, his arm still around me.

My mother gaped at Garrett before schooling her expression. “Now you’re quite done?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. “The reason Amy was taken was because she was doing what she always does, acting irresponsibly.”

“You’re done,” a cold voice announced from behind me. My mother looked shocked, as if only just noticing Brock was there.

“Excuse me?”

The way she addressed him actually had me leaning forward slightly, to do what I didn’t know; maybe smash a vase over her head, but Garrett’s arms tightened around me.

“I mean you and your husband are done spouting this hateful and poisonous shit. I don’t know what kind of people you are to stand in front of your daughter days after she almost bled to death and give her as much love as I have for a suicide bomber and frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is Amy. I’m not having her near either of you for a moment longer,” Brock growled.