Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC 3)

With that declaration, they discussed strategies and plans. Once that was done, Cade dismissed his brothers. Bull stood to leave; he would never say it out loud, but he was almost happy this shit was going down. He needed it. Needed to pummel out his anger on these pissants. He needed to focus on something other than a blonde with a sweet cunt.

“Bull,” Cade called before he could leave. “A word,” he requested.

Bull nodded and moved back to his seat as the boys filtered out.

Cade stared at him once the room had emptied. Bull didn’t say anything. Cade was used to it. He didn’t speak when he didn’t have to. Mostly because he was focusing on the shit inside his head. On the demons. Those fuckers were quiet at the moment, but they were still there, waiting.

“You good, brother?” Cade started, watching him.

Bull nodded. “I’ll be better when I get to teach those bastards a lesson,” he said, referring to the mission.

Cade nodded distractedly. “Yeah well, they’ll get taught.” He paused. “I’m talking about you nearly rearranging Lucky’s face yesterday.”

Bull stiffened. He said nothing.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Cade asked evenly.

“Nothing,” Bull bit out.

Cade regarded him. “So it wasn’t about Mia?”

Bull’s fists clenched. He didn’t need her name spoken here. Not in this room.

“All due respect, Prez, you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about and I’d appreciate if you don’t say her name again,” he ground out.

Cade’s eyes flared slightly, but otherwise he didn’t react. “Not looking to get my face rearranged either, brother, just looking out for you,” he said carefully. “She’s nice. Her kid too. It’s okay, you know, to move on…”

Bull pushed out of his chair. “This conversation is done,” he grunted, having to hold himself back from grasping his president and his best friend by the collar.

Cade stood too. His normally emotionless face was troubled and he was looking at him in concern.

This bristled Bull that much more. He didn’t need that fuckin’ look. He loathed to see that on Cade’s face. It made him feel weak. He knew what his brother had done for him. What his Old Lady had done. Pulled him back from the brink. When he had been preparing to meet the Devil, to give in to the demons, Cade had yanked him back from the edge. He wasn’t thankful at the time. Sometimes he hated his brother for making him continue the fight, other times, like right now, was angry for another reason. For thinking there might be another reason to continue, other than the club. Her.

I tapped my pencil down on my desk impatiently. I was in a bad mood. This was unusual. Once I had dragged myself out of my very own living Hell, I made it my mission to be happy. To be positive. Have a sense of humor. It helped I had a beautiful daughter to keep me looking at the glass half full. I was also stubborn. So through money problems, fear and all sorts of other things life threw at me, I managed to look on the bright side and try to make the best of it. I had it pretty good. I had friends, Steve and Ava, and I had Lexie. The dark shadow of our life before would always be with me but I learned to turn a blind eye. Apart from making sure he couldn’t find us, wouldn’t find us, that shadow didn’t exist. Apart from in my dreams.

So, sitting at my desk in my little office at the hotel, I found it hard to drag myself out from the black cloud I was currently letting infect my life. Nothing particularly bad had happened. It was an accumulation of things. I slept through my alarm. Ran out of coffee. Poked myself in the eye with a mascara wand. Twice. I then spilled my precious Shelly coffee all over my white pants, hence a detour home to change an outfit. And then another detour to replace the coffee. So I was late to work. Then I had to deal with rude guests and staff shortages.

I had hidden myself in the salon, the place where I felt most at home, at peace. I had started in hotels as a maid while working to support Lexie and I and put myself through beauty school. It was hard, really hard. But I did it, and worked as a therapist for years before Steve had promoted me to manager. Although I didn’t miss the backaches from the exertion of giving massages, I missed the feeling of helping to make women feel beautiful.

So that’s how I found myself behind the desk at the salon, sipping a coffee, trying to find my Zen.

“I’m so freaking furious at him!”

I glanced up at hearing the raised voice amongst my Zen music.

“Girl, how you can be furious at a man like that is beyond me. One look at his impressive physique and broody eyes, he’s forgiven for an-y-thing,” a throaty voice replied to the complaint.

My eyes rested on Gwen—I think that was her name—from the store that was way out of my price range but sometimes existed in my dreams. I remembered how nice she had been to Lexie and I, and her accent was pretty unique. She hadn’t properly approached the desk and seemed too into her conversation to notice me.

“Yes, well, trust me—those things have got him away with a lot.” She paused and stopped walking. “A lot,” she repeated meaningfully. “But not this time,” she said firmly.

The woman with her just shook her head knowingly. The woman I did not recognize. And I would have remembered her. She was like a supermodel. Her inky black hair tumbled down her back, shining like she was in a fricking shampoo ad. I wondered if there was a way I could ask her about which products she used without sounding like a weirdo. Her skin was pale and flawless, not needing the expertly applied makeup, though her winged liner that could cut a bitch it was that sharp. She was wearing all black, which would have been harsh on anyone else, but somehow she worked it. Her long, svelte body encased in a tight polo neck dress that finished below her knees, and killer heels with laces creeping up her calves. It made me have a fleeting thought about joining the gym. That didn’t last for long.