Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC 3)

Bull clenched his fists as she waded through the crowd, not noticing him as he skulked in the shadows. He nearly pushed off the wall to pummel every fucker that checked out her ass as she walked by. Luckily no one stopped her; if they did, he would have been there in an instant.

“How the fuck do you handle this shit?” he bit out to his brother, who was standing beside him.

Cade raised his eyebrows slightly, not expecting a question. “With great fuckin’ difficulty, brother. Helps knowing that I’ve got a gun in my cut,” he said with full seriousness. “You claiming her?” He nodded to Mia, who was sipping a drink with her nose screwed up.

His girl didn’t drink. She couldn’t hold her alcohol worth a damn. Bull found this adorable as fuck. Thirty-three and she couldn’t hold her drink.

“Yep,” he said without thinking. The sight of her amongst all of that, without knowing she was completely his was enough to drive him crazy. He knew it was the lesser of two evils, considering he was still battling the demons that screamed at him to let her go. To get on his bike and roar away to let her and Lexie live a normal life. A safe life. Marry some stockbroker who wouldn’t get them killed. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the fact the club was moving away from the shit that got her killed. The fact that the thought of not tasting Mia again made him want to claw his own face off. And there was also some part of him that had an inkling that those girls needed him. His girls.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a hard clap on his back. Cade was grinning at him.

“Happy for you, brother. You deserve this,” he muttered.

Bull only nodded. He didn’t need to pour his fucking heart out to his best friend. He only needed to figure out a way to live with himself after making this decision.

“Jesus, that kid can fuckin’ sing,” Brock remarked after Lexie had belted out “Alive” by Pearl Jam.

Cade nodded in agreement. “Never heard a teenager with that much talent. They’re going places.”

Bull gritted his teeth. Fucker was right. Lexie was beyond good. She worked the stage like a natural. Like she’d been on a thousand times. Like the guitar was an extension of her hand. Like she wasn’t only sixteen years old. That band was going places. But Lexie was sixteen; she didn’t need to be going any fucking where for two years.

“What I would do to that tight little body.” Bull’s entire form stiffened at the slurred words muttered from beside him.

“Yeah, baby! Work it!” the voice yelled as Lexie started her second song. The sounds of his leers were drowned out by the crowd and the band. But Bull could fuckin’ hear him. As could Cade and Brock, who were glaring at the drunken fucker leering at Lexie.

Bull saw red. He fingered the gun inside his cut, wanting to shoot the fucker’s dick off for the way his way looking at a sixteen-year-old girl. Mia’s girl.

“Gunshots might ruin the band’s sound,” Brock remarked blandly from beside him.

Bull nodded stiffly. As much as he would love to make him bleed, shooting the bastard would only ruin Lexie’s night. He took a deep breath and moved his hand from his piece. Instead, he moved closer to the man and his equally inebriated friends, moving slightly in front of them. He lifted his arm and jabbed his elbow back so it collided with his nose. Bull was satisfied with the loud crack that followed and the groan of pain as the bastard fell to the floor.

“Hey!” one of his friends started to protest.

Bull narrowed his eyes at him, communicating in one look that he would repay the favor if they tried to defend their fuckwit of a friend. He felt his brothers at his back.

“We would kindly suggest you escort your perverted friend to the nearest exit before we chop his balls off,” Brock said cheerfully.

The men blanched. Even through the alcohol haze, they could see that they weren’t joking. They half dragged their bleeding friend to the door, looking back anxiously.

“Pussies,” Brock muttered before turning back to the stage and sipping his beer.

Bull struggled to contain his anger as he did the same. It helped that five minutes later Lexie’s eyes met his as she belted out her next song, and she grinned from ear to ear. The warmth that spread through him at such a simple smile worried him. The kid acted like he was someone worth smiling at, worth talking to. He wasn’t. He killed people. People that deserved it, definitely. But people who didn’t. Innocents. Wasn’t it his actions that killed the most innocent being to walk this earth? The most beautiful soul. The only thing she did was love him. And he repaid her by getting her killed and defiled in the worst way possible. Bile rose up in his throat at the images that rushed in with those thoughts. Images that hadn’t assaulted him in a while. Images that he thought he was fighting back. Images that almost made him eat his gun two years ago. Now, with the prospect of not one, but two people he cared about getting damaged because of him, he couldn’t take it. Thing was, he couldn’t leave either. He clenched his fists.

With all the poison swirling through his body he hadn’t realized that the band had finished.

“You think we’re going to be able to get them out of here without a fight?” Brock asked Cade casually.

Cade’s face darkened. “Gwen is leaving. Whether she likes it or not. Shouldn’t have even let them come. Shit’s uncertain at the moment. She wants to go and watch a fuckin’ band.” He shook his head tightly, eyes on his pregnant wife who grinned at him and waved.

Brock slapped him on the shoulder before sipping his beer. “Do you let Gwen do anything? Bitch does what she wants and you ain’t got no say. I speak from experience.” He grinned at Amy who blew him a kiss.