by Anne Malcom
This fucking guy.
“There’s no case to make,” I informed him. “I hope this hasn’t disrupted your day too much. If you don’t mind, I have a lot to do.”
Despite my anger, I had the strong urge to add an apology in there somewhere, as women tended to do. It was something hardwired into us, that need to apologize for disappointing some guy. Hammered into us for years. We’d been convinced we must say sorry for speaking our minds, for occupying spaces men wanted to own. Even knowing that Edmond was in the wrong, I couldn’t help but feel the need to protect his feelings ever so slightly by offering some sort of apology.
But I held firm.
I had nothing to be sorry for.
And you could bet your ass that men didn’t apologize when they didn’t have anything to be sorry for. Most of them found it hard enough to say sorry even when they were in the wrong.
Edmond was no different. “Of course. But I have to warn you, I’m not going to give up on you. I feel something between us. And I understand that a new relationship might be scary to you right now. You may not feel ready, but I’m willing to wait. Willing to prove you wrong.”
Was he fucking for real?
No matter how gentle I had tried to be, he wasn’t getting it. Apparently, I’d have to lay it out straight, I had no other choice, then his face would change, and he’d label me a bitch.
He was the type. I was seeing that now.
Lucky for me, I wasn’t afraid of some lawyer in a suit. I’d spent far too much time around real badasses in leather to get scared by a man who spent more time on his hair than I did.
“Babe?” the voice sounded from behind me before I could start my well-deserved bitch tirade.
I was so shocked that I didn’t fully process it as Kace managed to not only open the door but sling his arm around me. He was also shirtless.
I didn’t fight this because I was so stunned. The look that Edmond was giving the both of us was pretty damn good too.
“We help you, bro?” Kace asked Edmond in a tone that communicated ‘fuck off’ in not so many words.
Edmond recovered quickly. I’d expected nothing less. Any pleasantness on his face was now gone, his expression curled into a scowl that could only be worn by a cocky, entitled man who’d been rejected by a woman.
“Ah. That’s it. You weren’t gonna let me in because you’ve already let someone else in. Once a biker slut always a biker slut.” There was nothing polite in his tone. Just bitterness. Foul, rotten anger.
Now, I had definitely expected some kind of tantrum. Harsh words. But this surprised me. Interestingly, it didn’t piss me off as much as it had when he was being nice.
Kace, on the other hand, was pissed off. His entire body tensed with fury. His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. Basically, he transformed into a deadly biker not afraid to knife a guy. Or shoot him in the face.
“You better feel fucking glad I don’t want to stain the doorstep of my woman’s home with blood ‘cause this is where her kids walk in,” Kace said calmly. “You speak another fucking word, I’ll forget that. Bleach ain’t that expensive after all.”
Edmond paled, and it was incredibly satisfying, if not juvenile, to feel the way I did as I watched fear overcome him. I moved my arms around Kace’s hips. Not because I wanted to feel him or anything, but because I was worried he might make good on his word. He definitely seemed that pissed. And no one wearing a Sons’ cut was about to let an Old Lady—widow or not—be called a slut in front of them without doing some serious harm.
Though I would say, it wasn’t completely terrible having my arm around Kace.
Edmond’s face turned cold, and his eyes filled with fury and hate. More than I’d suspected was hidden behind that handsome face. It unnerved me.
After the life I’d lived, people I’d spent time around, I considered myself to be a good judge of character. A good judge of what lay beneath the layers of civilians, able to see their true faces underneath the masks they wore.
But I’d missed it with Edmond. Hadn’t listened to my instincts telling me that there was something off, beyond the fact that he just wasn’t my type.
“You touch me, I’ll sue you for everything you’re worth. I’ll make sure you go to jail like the criminal you are,” Edmond spat.
Kace grinned in the face of the threat like the joke it was. “Oh, you gonna hurt me with some fuckin’ paper? Go right ahead. Try it.” Despite Kace being younger than Edmond, much less groomed and put together, he sounded like he was talking to a child, something beneath him. His voice and demeanor shrank Edmond down into something small.
Edmond didn’t like that. Not at all. But I could see that he was also scared of Kace. He was trying to hide it, but it was easier to hide ugliness than it was fear.
Instead of answering Kace, he focused on me. “You’re making a huge mistake.”
“You don’t fuckin’ talk to her,” Kace fired back, moving me ever so slightly backward. I rolled my eyes at him trying to protect me from an asshole in a suit that even I could take down without much effort. Edmond was used to bringing people down with words, he was no match for the Sons of Templar, or anyone connected to them.
“You don’t think about her. You don’t look at her. You see her on the street, you turn around and walk the other way. That is, if you like the way you’re walkin’ right now. I’d be happy to change that for you. I’d take great fuckin’ pleasure. The Sons own this town, and we’ll be watching you. Every fucking move.”
Kace meant it. Every word. He would hurt Edmond. End him. Just for talking to me like this.
“Change is coming,” Edmond spat. “The town is growing. A thug, criminal biker gang can only stay in power for so long. It’s not going to be a fist fight that brings you down. It’ll be progress. And I’ll glory in it.”
Kace grinned. “Well, I’ll be glorying in Lizzie’s pussy.”
On that note, he pulled me back and slammed the door in Edmond’s face.
“You did not have to end it like that,” I admonished.
“Yes I fuckin’ did, babe,” he replied, his voice still filled with anger. “That fucker is darker than he seems, and he wants what I’ve got. In a way that fuckin’ worries me. He needs to know what’ll come to him if he gets near you.”
“I can take care of myself,” I demanded, stepping back, folding my arms. “And I’m not yours. We fuck. That’s all.”
Kace moved forward, forcing me to retreat so my back hit the door. He didn’t stop. Not until he caged me in.
“Very aware you can take care of yourself, Lizzie. I’m also very aware that you’ve got two kids who need their mom. You’ve been through enough shit. I’ve got the ability to make sure I’m between you and fucks like that, so I’m gonna do that. You can fight me on it as much as you want. Try to push me away, I’ll take it. But I won’t go nowhere. Because even though you’re not ready to admit it, you are mine. The parts of you that can be.”
“You need to leave,” I gritted out.
He ran his eyes over me, and I hated the way that made me feel. “Sure thing, baby. But it’s too late to really try and get rid of me. I’m under your skin.”
I turned and walked away from him. Because I didn’t have it in me to argue.
To lie.
Chapter 15
Someone had been in my house.
I knew that the second that I walked through the door. It wasn’t locked. Something I forgot to do more often than not. Something that had irritated the ever-living fuck out of my husband. The cause of a lot of fights. Of course, I was extra careful in the bloodier days. I wasn’t going to take any chances with my children. Now, I shouldn’t have been as careless. Stupid. I was a woman alone in a house with the two most precious things in my entire world.
But there was a lot on my mind.
To say the least.
And the club was no longer attracting death and danger. Ranger’s death was the result of a war that had been unavoidable. A war th
e club won. One that had made it so that all the criminals in the underworld stayed away.
None of that was an excuse for being so careless with my safety and my children’s. I’d been stupid enough to think we were safe here. In Amber. Under the shade of the Sons of Templar MC.
Nothing was missing. I’d left some cash in a porcelain tray on a side table in the living room. It was still there. As were all of the expensive kitchen gadgets that Ranger had bought me and upgraded yearly. Not as gifts, mind you. He was partial to giving jewelry or first editions of my favorite books. Ranger was always a great gift giver. He was observant. Thoughtful. The Kitchen-Aid mixer and the espresso machine were more because he’d wanted to provide. He had wanted to be the father he’d never had. Maybe he had wanted to buy something beautiful to make up for the ugly ways in which we got that money.
It didn’t matter now, did it?
I continued to move through the house, cautiously, moving first to my bedroom to retrieve my gun. Something told me there was no one in the house. The same kind of something that told me someone had been in here in the first place. Instinct. Intuition. Whatever you want to call it.
I checked the kids’ rooms. Nothing out of place. Nothing stolen. Beds sloppily made, because that was one of their weekly chores, and neither of them loved doing them, they did them because they were good kids.
The laundry room was untouched, with piles of clothes that never really seemed to move with two children in the house.
Bathrooms the same.
Maybe I was going crazy. That wouldn’t be out of the question. Everything inside me felt loose. Rattled. Broken. Resentful. Bitter.
Everything that Kace always chased away.
When he last left, self-guilt and confusion washed over me like a tsunami, all mingled with need for him despite still feeling his touch all over my body.
So yes, it could be entirely possible that I was going crazy. But I didn’t think I was. There weren’t many things in the world a woman could trust. A true girlfriend. The words of a good man. The fact that there were many bad men pretending to be good. And her intuition.
It wasn’t something that lied. And I was pretty sure mine wasn’t lying now.
Something creaked behind me. A footstep. A person. They were still here. Damn, I wished my intuition had been wrong this time.
I whirled, gun raised head level. Ranger always taught me to go for the kill. “If you’re at the point you have to point a gun at someone, don’t fuck around trying to wound. You shoot to kill.”
Bex raised her hands, grinning ever so slightly. “I’m only here to raid your baby clothing supply, but if you’re guarding it that fiercely, then I’ll brave that god-awful baby store.”
Horrified, I lowered the gun, turning the safety back on. Holy shit. I was going insane. I’d just pointed a gun at one of my closest friends. Who was a new mother. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Shit, Bex, I’m so sorry.” I ran my hand across the back of my neck, tension now pulsing there.
She waved her hand in dismissal. “No harm, no fowl.” She glanced downward then back up at me. “Why are you walking around the house with a gun?” Bex asked, tilting her head to the side.
I took a deep breath, my heart trying to settle at the familiar face. The safety in it. I surely didn’t feel any safety in myself.
“I thought that someone had been in here, but I think I might just be going insane,” I whispered.
“Babe, if you’re not insane already, then you’re way ahead of the rest of us,” she replied with a grin.
I chuckled with only the faintest hint of hysteria.
“Beyond that, I know you. Don’t think you’d be stalking around your house with a Glock without a reason. If you think someone was in here, then I believe you.” She paused. “Should I make some tea?”
“Tea?” I repeated.
She shrugged. “That’s what bitches offer other bitches in times of crisis. It’s meant to be calming.”
I laughed. “I think that whisky sounds better.”
She grinned. “Me too. How about you put away the gun, and we’ll have a chat over some whisky and cupcakes. Fair warning. I already ate one on the way in here.” She winked and turned to walk toward the kitchen.
I moved slowly to our bedroom, emptying the clip, securing the gun. I was shaken. After a tragedy happens, it usually goes one of two ways. Some consider themselves somewhat immune from a repeat. Having had a huge blow dealt to you once was enough. There was also the belief that lighting didn’t strike twice. A ridiculous kind of confidence. On the flipside, there was the certainty that more bad things could happen because you were living proof that bad things did happen. I was in the camp of the latter, if it wasn’t already obvious.
Bex already had our drinks lined up and was chewing on a cupcake by the time I put myself together enough to enter the kitchen.
She didn’t look at me any different, like I’d just pointed a gun at her a few minutes ago. That was Bex.
I took the drink she offered me, drained it in one go, then started to feel guilty about drinking in the afternoon and using alcohol to numb my emotions.
“Now, you know how much I hate to say thing like this, but we should call the club,” she said.
My stomach dipped. Not just at the prospect of the club having to come to my rescue solely because I had some ‘feeling’ that someone had been in my house without any kind of proof. No one would make me feel crazy or paranoid. No one would say it out loud, but they’d think it.
Beyond that, Kace would get involved. And then the cycle would begin. The woman in danger and the alpha male, coming out with the need to protect his woman, not letting her go anywhere alone, then the two end up in falling in love.
No. That wasn’t happening.
“We should not call them,” I replied, eyes meeting hers. “Seriously. I’m shaky. I’m not getting much sleep. I’m making too much of nothing.”
Bex raised a brow. “You’ve been an Old Lady for over a decade. You are many things. Strong. Unflappable. Badass. You’ve been through shit that half of these men haven’t. So I know for a goddamn fact that you’re not making too much of anything.”
Bex was not one for bullshit. I bit my lip. Dipped my finger in the frosting of a cupcake and licked it.
“Maybe, maybe not,” I shrugged. “But right now, I don’t need a bunch of guys coming in with guns to save the day. To rescue the poor woman without a man. You understand that?”
Bex’s eyes turned dark, haunted, as they did from time to time. She’d been through some of the worst things a woman could go through. Her life had been hard and ugly. Full of wounds. Yet she managed to get through it. Not without carrying some things with her, though.
“Yeah, babe, I can totally understand that.” She twirled her still full glass. I wondered if she was saving it or had just poured it to make me feel better about drinking. Or because she was careful about what substances she imbibed these days. She’d been clean ever since Lucky had saved her from a fate worse than death, but it hadn’t been easy for her. She’d had to fight to get where she was. Less so since their daughter was born. But life would always be a battle for her.
For all of us.
“You’re not sleeping well?” Bex asked.
Shit.
The way she’d said it showed she was worried. That I was spiraling. I could lie. Say I wasn’t sleeping from the grief. The pain. It would’ve been much easier. But it would hurt my friend. She’d blame herself, thinking that she hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t been able to help.
I couldn’t do that.
“Nights have had me kind of... preoccupied, if you know what I mean.”
Bex sat up straighter in her chair, the worry instantly falling from her face. “I know exactly what you mean. You’ve been getting laid. Keeping it a secret, making it even more exciting.”
I swallowed, picking up a cupcake for a distraction more than anything else. “Yeah it’s really g
ood. Scary good, because it was only meant to be just sex—”
“It’s never just sex,” she interrupted. “Not with someone wearing a Sons of Templar cut. He’s a brother, isn’t he? Not that asshole with the suit you went on a date with? Not that I’m going to judge you if it is, but I don’t get the feeling he’s got a good fucking in him.”
I laughed. Bex not only said it how it was, but she saw it how it was.
“It’s Kace,” I admitted, feeling disturbingly comfortable letting my secret out to more of my friends. I was starting to feel less ashamed of it. The secret was too heavy. I was too tired and starting not to care like I should about all the promises I’d made myself before.
“Of course it is,” she nodded, her smile even wider now. “And I’m guessing he’s another reason why you don’t want the club to know about what went on today? Because he would go all alpha ‘you are mine, therefore I make all the decisions about your life now’?”
I grinned. She’d been through this, witnessed more of it. She knew the score. “Pretty much.”
“Okay, I’m with you, sister. As long as you keep yourself safe. We don’t need any more holes in us.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I am definitely going to be keeping myself safe,” I said firmly, like I had any power over that.
Of course I didn’t.
Bad things had happened to me once.
There was only more to come.
It was pure luck that saved my children.
Luck and the fact I’d forgotten that Lily was supposed to bring food for her shared lunch to school. It was grocery day, and I had nothing but some mac and cheese and stale Doritos to offer. She’d dutifully reminded me of this by jumping on my bed at six in the morning. I was meant to have both kids at school by eight thirty and they still needed to get dressed, get showered and eat breakfast.
And I had to go to the grocery store twenty minutes away that opened at six thirty. Which meant my children would be alone for almost an hour. Despite Jack trying to convince me he was old enough to stay at home and look after his sister, that was something that wasn’t going to happen.