Making the Cut (Son's of Templar MC)

by Anne Malcom

  What I did get an argument about was who was paying. I had been more than happy to finance the renovation considering I was the one insisting on it, but Cade got seriously defensive when I mentioned it.

  “You are my woman, and this is my baby, I will take care of you both, you aren’t paying a fucking cent.” He had declared over the dinner table. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, I had expected nothing less from the macho man.

  “Cade it’s not like I don’t have the money, and I think you underestimate my freakish ability to spend. I can pay.” I don’t even know why I even tried to argue. Cade’s eyes had narrowed. “I know all about your spending habits Gwen, I’ve seen your fucking closet. I’ve also seen where you grew up, the car you drive and the house you brought. It’s not lost on me you come from money. But the moment you became my woman, the moment I put that baby inside you and that ring on your finger, those moments meant I take care of you in every way. Including bankrolling whatever crazy shit you’ve got thought up for this house. I got money babe, I’m more than able to keep you in the lifestyle in which you are accustomed.” I opened my mouth at this point to argue with his prehistoric ideas but he stopped me.

  “I know that doesn’t make you happy, but how about you put your money towards our little girl’s future, like her college fund and no doubt to fund an addiction to expensive clothing she will inherit from her mother.”

  I had stewed on that for a moment, deciding not to fight over something he obviously wasn’t budging on. He was also right, my little girl was going to be clad in designer from birth.

  So Amy and I had taken a trip to LA to hit this baby furniture boutique that we had found online and shopped up a storm, with Cade’s credit card.

  I decided to fit out the baby’s room in neutral colours, no tacky pink screaming everywhere. We put the nursery in the back room of Cade’s house, it was big, had heaps of natural light and a view of the ocean. I had it painted all white, then got one wall painted with a tree of life design. It was a golden brown, simple, taking up the entire wall, its roots crawling from one edge of the room to another. No leaves, a symbol of eternal life, like the tattoo my brother had on his back. I had Cade’s hardwood floors polished and varnished and they looked amazing. I had a huge sheepskin rug shipped over from NZ so my feet could feet home and put it in the middle of the room. The crib was white, and old fashioned, with white frilled bedding and a huge butterfly mobile hanging above it. I had a white wicker rocking chair sitting beside the crib, my Mum used to always talk about rocking me to sleep so I wanted the same for my baby. There was a big wicker sofa in the corner that had a light pink afghan thrown on top of it, and hand printed butterfly cushions. There was changing table underneath the window and a huge old free standing wardrobe beside it. I loved the room and so did Cade.

  “Was expecting a fucking explosion of pink and bows babe, prepared to live with it too, but this is perfect.” He told me after seeing the final product.

  I was slightly affronted that he thought so little of my taste, but cut him some slack since I had turned his house into a war zone. And because he was putting up with my pregnant mood swings. Cade loved me being pregnant. Every time he was near me his hand would rest protectively on my belly, and he would talk to it when we were in bed. He even insisted on putting my stretch mark cream on. Me turning into a beached whale hadn’t dampened our sex life, if anything I was more horny, not that Cade complained. He couldn’t get enough, even dragging me off into a dark corner at the clubhouse during a party. He had bent me over against an old car and made me scream, luckily drowned out by ACDC.

  Club business had been quiet also. They were out of guns completely and so far hadn’t had any backlash. Their security business was booming according to Cade, but he refused to take any assignments that would mean leaving me for even a night.

  “Missed out on two months of your pregnancy Gwen, not missing a fucking second more if I can help it.” He had told me in explanation.

  Things between him and Steg had even improved. They had some kind of mutual understanding. They would never have that father and son bond back, but there was some form of respect. Steg was slowly proving me wrong about my first impressions, treating me with care ever since I had got home. He had been at the airport when we got back and hand given me a warm embrace and sincere words about my brother. And every time I saw him he kissed my head and asked the same question.

  “How’s my little Templar going in there?” Meaning Bun. Since Cade was the closest thing he had to a son, our baby was going to be treated as his grandkid. I didn’t actually mind too much, especially since, to my shock Evie had taken on the grandmother role with everything she had. Not that anyone would ever mistake her for a grandmother. But she was always coming to the store, bringing baby gifts, (a pink ‘Sons of Templar’ onsie was my favorite so far) and had helped me oversee all of the renovations to Cade’s house. Not to mention she always brought whatever I was craving that week, even when for an entire week it was cottage cheese wraps with pumpkin seeds.

  Luckily Cade was just as patient, I had made him leave the house at 2am to go and get me grapefruit, near tears.

  So that led me back to now, after two amazing orgasms, but unfortunately no labor.

  “Fuck.” I muttered after coming down from my wave of pleasure.

  “Not the response I’m used to getting babe.” Cade remarked dryly, from where he sat behind me. My back was resting against his chest and he was sitting up slightly against the headboard, his arms around my belly. It was the only comfortable, and humanly possible cuddle position thanks to my belly that should have its own sun.

  “You know full well that was great.” I huffed. “But I thought in addition to an orgasm I might also get a baby out of me.”

  I felt Cade’s chest vibrate as he laughed, hands caressing my stomach.

  “She’ll come out when she’s ready. I bet she’s just stubborn like her mother.”

  I rolled my eyes. Cade hadn’t always been so breezy about our child’s lack of eagerness to leave the womb. He had actually been worried out of his mind the day after the due date, dragging me to the doctors demanding to know if the baby was okay. After some reassurance he was calmed down. Although I thought he might’ve attempted to bring an ultrasound machine with him if he could’ve hidden one under his cut.

  Our post sex cuddling was cut short when Cade and the guys had to go check on some security thing, he did tell me what it was, but I was currently neck deep in self pity, so I didn’t listen. It was too hot to be this pregnant! Cade had commanded me to either stay at the clubhouse with the remainder of guys left behind, or have someone drive me if I was going to go anywhere. Since I was bound to pop and any given moment Cade wouldn’t let me be alone. Considering the fact that my girth couldn’t fit behind a wheel anyway I didn’t have much choice.

  A couple of hours later, after making Bull take me to get five ice creams, I was happily sucking away at number three while watching my boxed set of the Walking Dead on the club’s huge flat screen. I was hoping one of the frights I had been getting would shock the child out.

  “That would never fucking happen, you can’t get a head shot from that far away.” Bull growled from beside me.

  “You’re seriously questioning the realism behind a program that is based on flesh eating zombies?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

  I can tell he’s about to prepare a retort when his phone buzzed.

  “Got it.” He bit after answering. He stood, strapping on his on gun.

  “Gotta go sugar.” He kissed my head then moved his eyes behind me.

  “Steg, you good to stay here with Gwen until the boys get back?”

  “Sure.” Steg came into my line of sight, a warm smile looking weird on his harsh face. I hadn’t even realized he was here, I had assumed as the club president he would be heading whatever security mission they were on.

  “See yah Gwen, try not to give birth while we’re gone.” Bull joked before hea
ding for the door.

  I flipped the bird to his retreating figure. But really I was just happy that this new Bull could even joke. Something had changed in him since I’d gotten back. He spoke more, spent more time with the guys instead of sitting alone with a bottle of Jack. He hadn’t quite progressed to laughing, but I could handle the dry jokes and occasional smiles if it meant he was getting better. The sound of his bike roaring off alerted me to the fact that its just Steg and me left. That would’ve left me quaking in my Choo’s normally, but since I was wearing flats, and starting to feel differently about the gruff club president I wasn’t set to have a panic attack. Didn’t mean I wasn’t slightly intimidated.

  “Walking dead huh? Darryl can sure shoot the shit out of a crossbow.” He remarked to my surprise, sitting on the sofa next to me.

  I stared at him in disbelief until he shrugged his shoulders. “Evie loves this shit.”

  I smiled and relaxed, turning my head back to the blood and gore.

  I jerked awake to the sound of a door slamming. I sat up disorientated. The TV was still going, so I mustn’t have been out that long, I looked to the empty sofa beside me and guessed Steg had had enough of zombie shows. I stood slowly stretching my uncomfortable body.

  “Can’t you please just decide to come on out Bun? Mummy is dying to get you into a little Burberry dress.” I tried, guessing my daughter might just leave the womb for Burberry if she is anything like her Mum.

  “Wouldn’t count on that baby or you wearing anything apart from a bullet bitch.” A voice snarled from behind me.

  I jumped to see a man with a gun pointed at me standing in the doorway. I cradled my hands over my stomach protectively, fear like ice through my veins.

  “What do you want?” I asked him evenly, intent on getting myself and my baby out of this unharmed.

  “Don’t remember me Gwen?” The man spat out my name.

  I searched his face, something about him familiar, then it dawned on me.

  “Taylor? You’re…”

  “I was meant to be a Templar, thanks to you I’m fucking no one.” He snarled, taking another step.

  I took in his greasy hair, and steel blue eyes, remembering the sleazeball that was ‘protecting me’ the day I got kidnapped. I noticed a scar running from his temple to his chin, marring his features.

  “You noticed my new look did you?” He asked. “That’s courtesy of your Old Man, my punishment for letting his bitch get pinched.” His voice was full of spite.

  My eyes darted around, where was Steg? I knew he would never be too far away. He wouldn’t leave me would he?

  “You don’t want to do this Taylor.” I tried to speak calmly, to reason with him. No matter what, I had to protect my child, and I was going to.

  He bit out a bitter laugh. “Oh but I do Gwen. No other club would touch me after Templar’s kicked me to the curb. Not even the fucking competition. They all think I’m useless.” He was almost yelling now, spittle flying from his mouth. “I have a feeling once I deliver the body of the Old Lady and kid of the famous Fletcher, I’ll be getting offers all over the fucking country.”

  Okay so this guy is insane. I could hardly move, my body shaking from fear, watching him move closer with that gun pointed at me. I took a small step back, now he had rounded the couch I wanted to put something between us.

  His eyes flared and he shook the gun at me. “Don’t move bitch!” He screamed.

  Then it all happened in a blur. Steg jumped over the couch, tackling Taylor.

  “Get the fuck out of here NOW GWEN!” He roared, wrestling with the man.

  I started for the door, wrestling my need to help, but knowing I had to look after my baby. I heard a grunt, then an unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. I turned, dreading to see the one getting up. To my relief Steg had pushed himself off the floor, he shoved Taylor’s gun down his jeans then bolted to me in concern.

  “Is he dead?” I asked, my voice calm.

  “Nope just knocked out, the boys and I will deal with that motherfucker. I need you to go outside and call Cade, I’ll tie this piece of shit up.” Steg grunted.

  “Um I think we might have to change our plans Prez.” I informed him calmly.

  “Why?”

  “Because my water just broke.”

  We both looked down at the puddle beneath my legs and I gingerly stepped out of it.

  “Okay. Give me a sec honey I’ll call Cade.” Steg pulled out his phone, trying not to look freaked, but he didn’t hide it that well. Bikers were weird, they could wrestle men with guns but couldn’t handle a woman about to give birth.

  “Cade, we’ve got a situation, Gwen’s…” Steg barked into the phone but a gunshot cut him off. And so did the bullet that went through his chest.

  I screamed as he collapsed onto me, giving me no choice but to go down to the floor with him.

  “Didn’t hit me hard enough old man.” Taylor sneered standing above us, brandishing another weapon. “Didn’t count on me having a second piece either stupid fuck. Too busy worrying about this cunt. Everyone’s so concerned about you Gwen. What’s so special bout you? Got a magic pussy? You let the whole club have a piece?” He asked grinning down at me.

  Steg’s blood was pouring out of his chest, his back leaning against my knees. I pressed my hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, trying not to panic.

  “You’ve just shot the clubs president Taylor. They’ll come after you now. Won’t stop until you’re dead. You need to leave now before they get back, maybe we can get Steg some help. If he survives, maybe they won’t kill you.” I desperately tried to reason with him, knowing if Steg was going to survive he needed a hospital now. Not to mention so did I. I couldn’t let this freak know I was in labor. He seemed to consider it awhile while pacing back and forward gun trained on me.

  “I think it’s just a bonus I’ve got the Prez as well as the Princess.” He decided, eyes flaring. “Maybe I’ll keep you around though, just until you push that kid out, then I’ll put a bullet in you, sell the baby off to the highest bidder. I could get some serious cash for the VP’s kid.” He informed me calmly. The psychopath.

  Bitter anger washed over me at the thought of this fucker harming my child. Not going to happen. I sucked in a labored breath as a vice tightened on my stomach, my first contraction whipping through me. Luckily Taylor was focused on his phone and was furiously typing so he didn’t notice. I focused on breathing through the pain, on being strong enough to get myself through this. A couple of minutes passed and I got my bearings, thankful that Taylor was still glued to his phone, muttering to himself. I took a moment to look down and Steg.

  “Can you hear me Steg? Don’t die please don’t die.” I whispered, pleading silently for him to open his eyes. His breath rattled and his arm lifted weakly.

  “Gwen.” He spluttered “My pants.” He coughed again, blood running down the side of his mouth. Pants? The gun! The one that he had shoved down the back of his pants. The way he was positioned meant I could slip one of my hands under to reach it. That meant letting go of the wound in his chest that I was trying to stop the bleeding. If I didn’t we’d both probably die anyway. And my little Bun would too. The roar of motorcycles gave me the distraction I needed as Taylor darted to the window.

  “Fuck!” He roared turning the gun to me. “Fucking Fletcher! Get up now bitch, you’re my only ticket out of this breathing.” He strode towards me, just as my hand closed around the gun tucked into Steg’s jeans. I didn’t hesitate, I pointed it at his approaching form.

  Cade

  Cade flew into the compound, fear and rage curled at the pit of his stomach. His shaking hands could hardly grip his fucking bike he was that afraid.

  Steg’s call ending in a gunshot and Gwen’s scream had put ice in his veins, and fire in his belly. They had been five minutes away, stopped at some fucking bar. Cade had assured himself that Gwen was safe and his brothers had joked it was his last time to enjoy a cold one befor
e the baby came along. Not that he gave a fuck. He couldn’t wait for his kid to get here. He also planned on getting Gwen pregnant again the first chance he could. His woman was stunning, but swollen with his child, glowing, she was out of this world. Now all he could hear was the shot and her scream. He couldn’t see straight at the thought of a bullet anywhere fucking near Gwen. His fucking kid. He was as good as dead if anything happened to the two most precious things on this earth. Fury coursed through his body as he thought of what he would do to the motherfucker threatening his family.

  He bounded off his bike, not even noticing it crash onto the concrete. His gun was in his hand and he was sprinting towards the clubhouse when he heard it. Three gunshots. It felt as if three rounds had been drilled into him but he didn’t slow his pace. He was about to rip open the door when a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

  “Let me the fuck go now brother! Or I’m not responsible for my next actions.” Cade snarled.

  “You can’t go bursting through the door without backup, not knowing what’s on the other side brother. Do this smart. So we can get Gwen out safe. Without her Old Man getting full of lead.” Bull’s face was an inch from his, his was voice flat, but his eyes flared with fury.

  Cade nodded stiffly, every fiber of his being was screaming at him to kick through that door, no matter what was on the other side. He’d happily face a thousand bullets if it meant Gwen and the baby safe. An agonizing thirty seconds later everyone was in place and the burst in the door. His stomach roiled at what he saw. Gwen trembling, covered in blood, trying to stop a flow that was streaming out of his President’s chest. A body face down in front of them, missing half a head. He didn’t take any of it in, he just rushed to his woman.

  Gwen