Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC 8)

I didn’t trust myself to move closer and physically hand it to him, so I laid it gently on his nightstand.

“Carry me with you,” I pleaded, looking at him, another tear rolling down my cheek. “Just remember, there’s nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you. No matter what you think. However long it takes, I’ll be waiting for you. No matter what.”

I turned and walked out.

Part of me thought he’d chase after me, kiss me and promise everything was going to be okay.

But he didn’t.

Because everything wasn’t going to be okay.

Unfortunately, that’s not the way this story goes.Chapter 3Five Years Later“I’ll call you tomorrow, I promise!” I yelled to Laurie and Bull as I got out of their car, my words only the slightest bit slurred from the margaritas we’d had. Well, Laurie and I had been having margaritas Zane, I mean Bull, wouldn’t do anything to impair his judgement or motor skills when he was driving Laurie around. He’d turned into a full on badass since patching into the Sons of Templar MC, complete with the macho man nickname. There was something about him now that made him seem like he’d be able to handle anything bad from happening. That he’d be able to save Laurie from a fricking plane crash.

Nonetheless, he didn’t drink and drive. Not with her in the car.

It hurt to be around them, so relentlessly in love, so devoted to each other when I was just an empty space where a human used to be.

Okay, that was maybe a little dramatic. But heartbreak kind of did that to you. Especially when paired with tequila.

It took me a second to fumble for the door handle. I hadn’t expected to be out this late, or else I would’ve left the porch light on.

I was still getting used to being alone. Living alone. I’d gone from my parent’s house to my college dorm to a shitty apartment off campus with a few friends to this little bungalow in my hometown. I’d just gotten a job at the bookstore on Main Street, helping the owner, Evan, with accounting and business management. I’d been one of his best customers for years, and when I mentioned I was moving home, he’d offered me the job. The pay wasn’t great, but it was more than enough to pay rent and have enough money for tacos and margaritas. Or it would’ve been if Bull wasn’t caveman who didn’t let Laurie and I pay for anything.

Sure, I could’ve gone away, could’ve headed to a city somewhere where I worked my way up in the publishing business since college had made me fall even more in love with the literary arts. But that wasn’t what I wanted out of life. I’d never had big dreams of leaving my small town and living some fabulous life. No, I’d been happy with the idea of settling down again. Working somewhere close to Amber. Getting married, having kids.

With Cody.

I’d been so sure that it would happen with Cody.

He’d talked about wanting to patch in to the Sons of Templar MC. It had made me nervous, but I’d understood why he’d wanted to, and I’d accepted it.

But then he’d left.

Almost five years ago. Hadn’t heard a single thing from him. Not one single thing. In romance novels, there was always something big and dramatic that separated the two young lovers. It was necessary.

There would be pain, longing, but ultimately a happy ending.

There was plenty of the first two, but none of the latter.

I should’ve hated him. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to throw myself into college life, college boys and forget him. Find someone new and stop pining over my high school boyfriend like a pathetic teenager.

Best laid plans and all that.

Willow tried to help. She had wanted to make a puppet of him—Wicca was one of the many things she’d studied during her four years at college where she’d gotten a lot of experience but not much else—and curse him. Among other things. She wanted me to party with her every night and find a new guy to forget the old one. But I didn’t work that way. Willow had eventually accepted that, since I’d always accepted who she was. She was the girl who’d decided to drop out of her last year of college to drive around the country with a guy she’d just met. She sent postcards sometimes. I’d always known that’s all I’d get from her. Postcards and stories from travels that never landed her back here. She felt suffocated in our small, quiet town. Amber wasn’t her dream.

It was mine.

I’d had relationships, of course. Mostly because I wanted to try to prove to myself that I was over Cody, but also because I was lonely.

It hadn’t worked. Some of the guys were nice, others were assholes. Neither type helped. So I’d decided I’d forever be the slightly jealous third wheel to my friend and her seriously smitten boyfriend.