Three Kinds of Trouble (Sons of Templar MC 9) - Page 110

My attention shifted back to the shape in the room as he moved to the bathroom. I prayed that he would turn on the light, illuminating the room just enough for me to see him.

But he kept skulking in the dark, barely making a sound.

More thumps sounded, coming from the hallway. Then coming through the door. I held my breath.

“You get her?”

My entire body sagged at the voice. But I still couldn’t make myself move.

“She’s not fuckin’ here.”

I almost collapsed at the sound of that voice. The voice. His voice.

“Well, how do you think you’re gonna see her stumbling around in the dark?” Swiss scoffed. “You think you’re fuckin’ Batman or something.”

I squinted as light flooded the room, momentarily blinding me.

“She’s not fuckin’ here.”

He was angry. Furious. Terrified. Spectacular.

“I’m here,” I whispered. My voice was scratchy and raw. It was almost nonexistent. My limbs were lead as I stepped out from behind the door.

Hades and Swiss were standing in the middle of the room, both of them staring at me. Swiss was grinning. Hades was not. When his eyes zeroed in on my stomach, they flared slightly, his only visible reaction. Then his gaze moved upward to my face. Then there was a reaction.

He stormed forward with such force that I reflexively slammed myself flat against the wall behind me.

Hades stood as close as he could without actually touching me.

“Who hit you?”

The words were ground out. Torn out from somewhere deep within him.

“Who fucking hit you, Freya?” He asked louder now. Almost a shout, but something more guttural than that.

My skin prickled, and I shivered visibly.

Swiss stepped forward, eyes fixed on me, filled with concern, full of rage. But there was also something softer.

There was nothing soft in Hades’s eyes.

“Brother, you wanna get your shit together? Freya—”

“Freya has been hit in the face,” Hades seethed, interrupting Swiss but not looking at him. He wouldn’t take his eyes off me. I’d been craving his stare for the longest time, but now I wasn’t sure I could continue to breathe under it.

“Someone hit my woman.” He was even louder now. “I won’t get shit together. And if you don’t step the fuck back, I won’t be responsible for what I do to you.”

Swiss’s expression turned steely, dangerous. I feared that there was going to be some altercation between the two of them, with me just standing there like a fucking scarecrow.

Unlike me, Swiss had full use of his limbs and stepped back. Not all the way back, though. He hung there, poised, taut, ready to do something, to jump in. As if Hades was going to do something to me.

I didn’t know a lot right in that moment. In fact, it seemed like my head was a big, white, vacant space full of nothingness. But there was one thing I was absolutely certain about, which was that Hades would never lay a hand on me. I had nothing to be afraid of. Conrad, on the other hand, had a whole fucking lot to be afraid of.

“Freya,” Hades warned.

“It was, Conrad,” I said, my voice a breath above a whisper. “He slapped me.”

I’d sentenced him then. Not to death, no. He was already dead the moment he’d made the decision to do this to me. I had sentenced him to something else entirely. I had sentenced him to Hades.

“They...” Hades trailed off and sucked in an audible breath. “Did they do anything else to you?” The words dripped ice, as though that was the only way he could speak them.

Anything else. Rape.

“No,” I reassured him quickly. “No one did anything else.”

“Need the names of everyone who touched you,” he demanded, recovering quickly. But I saw the relief that washed over him, the slight softening of his jaw.

“No one else hit me,” I told him.

His hands were fists at his sides. “But other men touched you.”

I frowned. “Yeah, they just ... squeezed my arm.”

Fuck, wrong thing to say.

Hades’s eyes zeroed in on my biceps. Then they blazed. I looked down at the reddish purplish fingerprints on my upper arms.

“Martin,” I whispered. Then I hesitated, thinking of Sanderson, how uncomfortable he’d been with this. “Sanderson.”

He’d been uncomfortable, but he’d still done it. He’d damned himself. I could’ve saved him, maybe. Maybe not.

“Find them. Ashton first. Bring him to me,” Hades spoke to Swiss but still looked at me. “Find Anderson, tell him to get Freya the fuck out of here.”

“No,” I jumped in, much louder than a whisper now.

Hades stared at me. Just stared. He hadn’t needed to say a word. His eyes told me that this was not up for discussion. I figured he’d been doing that a lot lately. Staring at people with eyes full of menace, threatening people without speaking. It worked on everyone else because I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt anyone else. But not me. I straightened ever so slightly, his eyes panning down to my stomach as I did.

Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic
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