Out of the Ashes

by Anne Malcom

  And when I awoke, he was gone. Most of me was gone too.

  The moment the first gunshots sounded was the moment his heart stopped entirely. His eyes had already been on Mia and he had been bursting with fury. Not because Gage had his hands on her, although that did contribute, but mostly because it wasn’t him. He couldn’t smile and laugh while twirling her round to some stupid fuckin’ song. One Lexie could sing the shit out of, no matter how silly it was. It grated him that he couldn’t be the one that made her laugh, give her what Brock gave Amy. Even Cade, who didn’t dance had Gwen curled in his lap, murmuring to her. Bull couldn’t even fuckin’ do that. His past, his demons had screwed him up so bad he couldn’t even give the woman he loved what she deserved. Be the man he was before. He was watching Mia make her way over to him with a small smile. Even knowing what he couldn’t give her she still smiled, still took what he could give. Christ, if he didn’t love her even more.

  So when he saw her standing among people who were getting cut down by bullets, he couldn’t think. Couldn’t move for a second. He was frozen in terror. Only for a second, then he found his feet. Found his voice.

  “Mia! Someone get Mia!” he screamed desperately as he watched her spin and sprint toward the stage. She dodged every one of his brothers easily, her movements desperate. He watched as Gage finally got a hold of her. He was never happier to see Mia in another man’s arms as he was in that moment. His terror translated to Lexie. His girl, who was on the fuckin’ stage. Every part of him screamed to be able to be there, protect his girls. His mind quieted slightly to see Killian shielding Lexie.

  With them taken care of he moved his body, pulled out his piece and started firing. He didn’t even bother to crouch down. Fuckers were riding off anyway. He thought he managed to clip the last one to run off, but he wasn’t sure. As soon as the danger disappeared, he didn’t make chase like some of his other brothers did. He went for his girls. He tried to swallow the bitter fear that poisoned every inch of him. When he finally made it to Mia, when she struggled in his arms like a banshee, he relaxed slightly. She was struggling, screaming, fighting. Which meant she was alive. Once he had catalogued every inch of her gorgeous body to make sure it was unharmed, he felt like he could breathe slightly.

  “Let me get to my daughter,” she demanded in a voice he didn’t recognize, a voice laden with terror. He flinched and felt that same terror inside him at the thought of Lexie. His eyes fell on her girl, climbing off the stage with the help of Killian.

  “Mom!” she screamed, running over.

  Bull let Mia go so she could hug her daughter. He watched in relief as Lexie hugged her back, unscathed. Unable to help himself, he touched her golden head, closing his eyes, thanking something that they were both okay.

  His eyes met Mia’s. For the first time ever, his woman’s eyes were hard. He restrained a flinch at the sight of them, tried to communicate a silent apology, a silent declaration of how much he loved them both in his look.

  Then he left. Because he had to. Had to punish the fuckers who killed his brother. Shot at his two reasons for living. Not existing. But living. Anyone who tried to extinguish that light was dead.

  Bull met Cade at the front of the warehouse they were cleaning up. Or more accurately, the prospects were cleaning up.

  “It done?” Cade asked with a hard glint in his eyes.

  Bull nodded. “Took care of every last one,” he assured his president. He had taken pleasure in watching the life drain out of the fuckers. Great pleasure.

  “We clean from this?” Cade added after nodding in approval.

  Bull gave him a look. A look that said what he needed to say. No way Bull would let this blow back on the club.

  Cade nodded, running his hands through his stubble, looking weary.

  Bull didn’t have time to hash this shit out, he had a family to get back to. Cade gripped his arm. “Your girls, they did good today,” he told him.

  Bull nodded.

  “They’re strong. Both of them. Love you. Love the club,” Cade continued.

  Bull looked at him a moment and Cade released him.

  “Thanks, brother,” he muttered.

  Bull had a shower before he went to Mia’s. Didn’t want to be dragging the filth of what he did into the house she made with Lexie. The home she made with Lexie.

  He paused when he saw both Killian and Lexie asleep on the sofa. He struggled not to drag him out of the house with his bare hands. That would mean waking Lexie. Unbidden, the memory of Killian protecting her with his body came to mind. With effort, he walked past them both.

  Everything melted away when he finally got into bed with Mia, got her into his arms. Then everything was fuckin’ shattered when he realized what she was doing. Didn’t blame her. Not for a fuckin’ second. Hell, he respected the shit out of her for it. Made him love her more. He knew how she felt about him. She was a crappy liar at the best of times, and her eyes didn’t lie, not when he was inside her. Not when she watched him with Lexie when she thought he wasn’t looking. So he knew. And if it was anything to rival how he felt about her, he knew it’d be ripping her up inside. Which was why he didn’t fight. He wanted to do, to the death. He wanted to never let her go until the reaper took him. Never stop loving her till the day he died. But he couldn’t. She was protecting her girl. Doing what he wasn’t strong enough to do. Because even though the fucks who shot at them were in the ground, they made their death blow right there in Mia’s bed.

  After he had made love to her, memorized every inch of her beautiful body, she lay in his arms. Bull clutched her to him. When he felt her drift off, he finally murmured the words he had been aching to say.

  “Love you, baby, to the moon,” he told her sleeping body.

  Two Months Later

  “Mom!” Lexie yelled up the stairs. “We’re leaving now!”

  I hopped down the hallway, trying to put on my shoe without breaking my neck. I was late. Story of my fricking life. I reached the top of the stairs; Lexie and Killian were standing at the bottom. Killian had Lexie’s guitar case over his shoulder.

  “You know the whole ‘don’t do drugs, don’t drink booze or you’ll be grounded for the remainder of your young adult life’ bit, don’t you?” I asked her and Killian.

  Lexie nodded. “Gambling’s alright though, isn’t it?” she clarified.

  I nodded. “Only if you win,” I deadpanned.

  Killian chuckled slightly. Being a regular at our house the past four months, he was down with our brand of humor. And with our serious attitudes towards movie watching order, as he had learned in our Star Wars marathon last week. Idiot actually suggested watching it in episode order. I’d never look at him the same.

  I turned my serious face on this time. “Take care of my kid, Kill,” I ordered softly.

  His face turned serious. “Always do, Mia,” he returned.

  Lexie rolled her eyes and waved her hands. “Helloooo, overprotective mother, overprotective boyfriend, I’m right here! My ears work and everything. So how about we stop talking about Lexie when she’s not here,” she ordered.

  “Did you hear something?” I asked Killian, looking around the room.

  He did the same. “Nope.”

  Lexie let out a frustrated sigh and stomped out the door.

  “Love you!” I called to her back.

  She waved a hand. I was pretty sure I heard her mutter “Yeah, yeah, put it in writing.”

  Killian grinned at me, then went after her.

  I tried not to give in to the familiar feeling of panic that assaulted me every time she left the house. It helped slightly that Killian was with her. When we cut ties with the Sons of Templar and everyone connected to them, Killian was the one exception. I didn’t exactly have a choice. I was reasonably sure shit would get all Romeo and Juliet up in here if I had forbidden Lexie to see Killian, as well as everyone else. She had been mad at first. No, furious would have been more accurate. It was our first fight. Our first rip-roaring
, “I hate you, Mom”, storm out the door kind of fight.

  “You can’t do that!” she yelled. “You can’t just cut them all out of our life like that. They’re nice. Gwen’s nice. Amy’s nice. Rosie’s nice. They care about us, they’re your friends,” she half screeched.

  I had tried to be calm. “They are nice, sweetie. They’re good people, all of them. But the stuff they’re involved in, it’s not good. Not for you and me to be around. It’s dangerous. I’m not going to take a chance on anything or anyone that might hurt you,” I had told her evenly.

  “But it wasn’t even their fault!” she argued. “They didn’t do anything!”

  I pursed my lips. I didn’t want to tell her people didn’t just rock up somewhere and start shooting at a motorcycle club for no reason. It would have been fuel to an already out of control fire.

  “I know, doll. But we need to stay away from them, just until this dies down,” I lied. Forever was a long fricking time to a teenager. A week was a long time to a teenager.

  Lexie had calmed slightly, then her body jerked. Full on jerked. “What about Zane?” she asked carefully. Quietly. Too quietly.

  “Zane’s included too,” I said, trying to keep the hurt, the agony out of my voice in that statement.

  Her whole frame had tightened at my words and her face flinched in hurt. “You can’t do that!” she yelled, tears beginning to stream down her face. “He cares about you, he cares about us. He needs us,” she cried. “He’s got no family without us. He’s playing guitar with me,” she added hysterically.

  I flinched. My beautiful girl saw way too much sometimes.

  “He’ll be okay,” I stepped forward, moving to take her arms.

  She ripped them out of my grasp. “He won’t,” she hissed. I felt a lance go through me at my daughter’s chilling certainty. She stared at me with a look of pure fury. One that was not welcome on her usually smiling and carefree face. “I hate you,” she whispered brokenly. Then she ran out the door.

  I stood there staring in the middle of the room, bleeding from the wounds of her words. The truth to them. Then I sank into the couch and sobbed.

  She had returned an hour or so later, her face tearstained but her expression full of apology. She crawled up next to me on the sofa, cuddling her body into me.

  “I’m sorry, Momma,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I don’t hate you, I never could. I know you’re just doing your best. For us. I understand.”

  And with that, my little girl proved she was in fact a teenage unicorn. In the space of an hour her head seemed to have wrapped itself around reasons I even struggled to grasp. And for every day after that, she seemed to be back to her happy self. Sometimes, however, I caught her looking over at Zane’s empty house from time to time with undisguised hurt on her face.

  That was another thing. Zane. Every waking moment I was thinking of him. Yearning for him. Hating myself for the decision I made. Questioning it, even when I knew it was the right thing to do. To protect Lexie. But that didn’t stop the hurt. From me bleeding inside. From me struggling to find sleep every night. Then waking up to nightmares of me saying goodbye to him. Losing him. I don’t know how I would’ve coped if I had to know he was right there, across the street. Simple. I wouldn’t have. I would’ve had to pack up and move. Which I had already considered. But I wouldn’t do that to Lexie. Uproot her again. Take her away from the boy she loved, the band she lived for. Amazingly enough they were still together; surviving a shooting together creates a bond even worried parents can’t break. But luckily, the night everything happened was the last night I saw him. His house stayed dark and empty, every day, every night for two months. The grass grew long and I thought it might run wild until I saw Cade ride up on his bike and set to mowing it. I’d smashed the glass I was holding when I had heard the Harley pipes at first. Then seeing Cade, my heart dropped. I watched him for a while, then I saw him stare over to our place, something working in his mind. I swear he started to make his way over before he shook his head and hopped on his bike. I was beyond glad he didn’t show up on my doorstep.

  I had been avoiding Gwen, Rosie, Amy, Lucy, and everyone connected to the club. I didn’t like doing it. In fact, I hated it. I dodged every call I received, ignored every text and deleted every voicemail. I felt like an evil shrew. Lexie was right. They were nice people. The best. I had grown attached to them all, felt a bond with them. It hurt me to have to cut ties like I was doing. I questioned it multiple times, like when I gave in and listened to a voicemail Gwen had left.

  “Hey, Mia, it’s me, Gwen, again.” There was a pause. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Bull’s...he’s gone away for a while.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you know that. Look, I get it. Why you’re distancing yourself, Lexie. I understand. It’s a lot. Trust me, I know. But we miss you. Things, they’re better. They’re getting better. The club, they’re always here if you need anything. If Lexie needs anything—” Another pause. “I’m always here if you need to talk or whatever. When you’re ready. Just don’t cut us out, ‘kay?” There was a click signaling the end of the message.

  I had stared at my phone a long time after listening to that voicemail. It had been a week since I got it. I missed her. All of them. They were my friends. And avoiding them forever in a town like this was damned near impossible without becoming a hermit. Which was what I was doing. Lexie and I were not hermits. We did things. Apart from when we were watching movies, or when Lexie was devouring a book, we were never stationary. So I was getting cabin fever. Something had to change.

  Hence me saying yes to a date with Clay. He had got my number somehow off someone who knew someone who knew someone. Friggin’ small towns. Anyway. My heart was still bleeding; in pieces actually. But I had to do something. So a date it was. A date I was late for. Lexie and Killian were off to some kid’s party that Lexie’s band were playing at. Their street cred had gone up exponentially since the incident, and she was always away for a gig. Which I didn’t like. Hated, actually. But I went to the ones I could, hovering at the back, trying not to have a mental breakdown. Killian went to the rest I couldn’t go to, plus the ones I could. And a party at some kid’s house was not something a mom could go to unless I wanted to subject my daughter to eternal mortification.

  So it was a date. Clay had called at exactly the right time as well, when I was feeling weak and like I needed a change. His voice had been all husky and attractive and his words had been all the right ones. Convincing without being pushy, interested without being over the top. Lexie had darkened slightly when I informed her of my date, then she put on a very fake smile and declared she was happy for me. It was safe to say she missed Zane almost as much as I did.

  A knock on the door jolted me out of my thoughts. I poked myself in the eye with my mascara wand, causing me to ruin my carefully applied smoky eye makeup.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. This was definitely a fuck moment. I was only wearing one shoe, my makeup now looked like Alice Cooper’s and I was nowhere near mentally prepared to go on a fucking date.

  I glanced at my phone. He was ten minutes early. Since when did grungy hot guys who owned clubs ever turn up ten minutes early? I was expecting him to be at least fifteen minutes late. “Stupid, punctual silver fox,” I muttered, throwing on my other shoe and doing emergency makeup procedures.

  “Coming!” I yelled when there was another knock.

  I half ran to the door, trying my best not to trip on the journey. Then again, a hospital trip would mean I wouldn’t have to go on the date. I paused. Was I seriously considering maiming myself in order to get out of a date with a perfectly nice and attractive man? “You’re like super early,” I said, opening the door breathless and unharmed, “I was expecting you to be...”

  My eyes landed on breasts encased in a kick ass silver tee with a plunging neckline. Last I remember, Clay didn’t have breasts or kick ass silver tees. My eyes traveled to meet pretty blue eyes framed with expertly applied wi
nged liner. They were currently narrowed on me.

  “You have a lot of explaining to do,” Lucy informed me coldly, pushing through the door and storming into my house.

  I stood shocked, with the door open for a moment before closing it and following her to the living room. She was sitting on the sofa with her legs crossed and a stern look on her face.

  “Sit.” She pointed a well-manicured finger at my chair.

  “I’ve actually...” I started.

  “Sit,” she repeated.

  At her tone my body moved automatically. I thought those long nails might embed themselves in my cheek if I didn’t.

  She barely waited for my ass to hit the cushion before she started.

  “You need to cut the shit,” her throaty voice declared. I had never heard Lucy speak in anything but a soft tone; the hardness under her words surprised me.

  “What?” I began.

  Again, she interrupted me. “You going all radio silent on everyone. On your girls. That shit is not cool,” she informed me with narrowed eyes.

  “Lucy,” I tried once more.

  “No,” she snapped. “You cut yourself off from the club. Your decision. Stupid one. But I get it. You do not, however, cut yourself off from your girlfriends,” she informed me snippily. I didn’t even have time to get a word in. “For a start, Gwen needs you. She’s having trouble with Belle and kid shit. Us,” she pointed to herself. “Much as we would like to help, we don’t know shit about kids. It’s not just her wanting you back ‘cause she needs your mom’s wisdom. She just plain misses you and Lexie.” She gave me a meaningful look. “We all do,” she finished softly.

  I sank back into my chair, feeling thoroughly told off by a woman who I was pretty sure was at least five years younger than me. I felt like a chastised teenager.

  “I’m sorry,” I started, my voice sounding tired; no, exhausted. “I didn’t want to. It killed me to cut myself and Lexie off from you girls, from—” I choked on the word, Zane. I couldn’t even say his name out loud. “I’m just doing what I thought was right, to keep Lexie safe,” I pleaded with her to understand that.