Deadline to Damnation: Sons of Templar #7

by Malcom, Anne

  Swiss turned, and Jagger readied himself for the fight. But instead of shooting shit back, instead of raising a fist, he looked him clear in the eye. “I did. I fucked up. Put your woman in danger. I take full fuckin’ responsibility.” He glanced to Claw. “Three quarters.”

  “How am I only one-quarter responsible?” Claw demanded.

  “You just answered your own fuckin’ question,” Swiss muttered. “You have a right for payback. After church. Free rein.”

  Fucker wasn’t kidding.

  Jagger cracked his knuckles. “We’ll focus on them first. Then I might decide to take it out on you.”

  Swiss nodded once and he upped himself in Jagger’s estimation. He still wanted to kill him for putting Caroline in danger, but he respected him.

  They talked more about the men. But there wasn’t much to say. Fernandez was being fucking smart. Farming out enemies across the board so they didn’t have one to focus on. If they didn’t strike hard and quick, he’d pick them off.

  Hansen brought down the gavel. “I want double the guard tonight. No one is getting through.” He looked to Jagger. “Emily good?”

  “She’s more than good,” Claw answered for him. “She’s my soulmate.

  “She’s gay, man,” Swiss said.

  “I’m persuasive.”

  “You got a pussy?” Swiss deadpanned.

  Claw sneered. “Of course I don’t, I’m eight inches of pure man.”

  “Well, then you’re eight inches outta luck.”

  Everyone chuckled, brushing off another close call.

  Hansen dismissed them, likely anxious to get back to his place.

  Jagger went out, intending on finding Caroline, to yell at her or fuck her—he wasn’t sure yet.

  But then he saw Sarah, leaning at the bar, nursing a beer.

  Fuck.

  He’d forgotten she was even here.

  He was an asshole.

  She was a good woman. A great lay. Well, nothing compared to Caroline, but great. She was funny. Kind. Not dramatic. Handled blood well.

  Perfect Old Lady.

  In another life.

  He’d treated her like shit, he realized that. Not intentionally, he never intended on treating good women bad, but he always seemed to.

  He sighed and made his way over to her, even though he needed to see Caroline, touch her, catalog every inch of her skin.

  He owed Sarah this conversation.

  “Why are you here?” he demanded, he hadn’t meant for his voice to sound as harsh as it did, but he didn’t have much control over it. Fuck, he couldn’t even touch Caroline all night because he was scared of what his hands might do.

  Sarah’s eyes shimmered and it hit him in the gut. Because he still felt something for her. If Caroline hadn’t existed, what he felt for her might’ve been enough. But Caroline did exist. And he felt everything for her.

  “I thought I was coming for a big romantic gesture,” she said. “I arrived last night. Was looking for the nerve to come here.” She smiled. “She’s it, right? The one that got away.”

  He tensed. Fuck, this was a good woman. And he was hurting her. “Something like that,” he said. He owed her a better explanation.

  Sarah took that shitty explanation. “I like her,” she declared. “I get it. I could even see it. Whatever it is between you.” She finished her beer, hoisted her medical bag onto her shoulder. “I knew that when we were together I wasn’t getting all of you. I resigned myself to the fact I’d never get all of you, because the parts I got, were pretty great. I thought I was getting enough. But seeing you with her, I realized I didn’t even get an inch of you. Not really.” Her words weren’t bitter, or accusatory.

  “She gets all of you,” she whispered. “And I like that for you. For her.”

  “I’m sorry,” he croaked, throat raw.

  She cupped his face. “Never apologize for finding someone who you look at like that. Even to me. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

  “You’re a good woman,” he said.

  She stepped back from him. “I know.” She winked. “Take care of her. Don’t let her get shot at again.”

  “Don’t plan on it.”

  In fact, he’d do everything within his power to make sure that didn’t happen. And if it wasn’t within his power, he’d figure out a way to make it so.

  Sarah nodded. Waved. And walked away.

  If Jagger was a better man, he would’ve watched her walk away, thought about what she gave him, what they had.

  But he wasn’t a better man, so she’d barely turned before he half ran toward his room.

  Toward his Peaches.

  Caroline

  The door opened abruptly, as I expected it too.

  I had got Emily off to sleep in one of the empty rooms. The drugs were strong, but not strong enough to complain about the thread count of the sheets. I’d watched her for a few minutes, made sure she was okay, set the meds and water beside her bed and left.

  I already had an alarm set for two hours so I could go and check on her.

  Church had run long enough for me to do all that and to slip into one of Liam’s tees. I snagged it out of the laundry hamper and put it on, inhaling deeply.

  He stood in the doorway as I sat cross-legged on the bed, inhaling his tee.

  I didn’t even have it in me to be embarrassed.

  He closed the door, kicked off his boots and his cut, all silently. Watching me the entire time, as if he were afraid I’d just disappear if he looked away.

  I knew the feeling.

  I still got it sometimes.

  He sat down on the bed beside me. Still not touching me.

  “She’s pretty,” I said finally, unable to stand the silence, and the scenarios my mind was playing for me. “And nice,” I continued. “And a doctor. Smart.” I thought about the steely glint in her eyes. “Strong too,” I commented.

  Liam didn’t say anything.

  Why wasn’t he saying anything?

  “She was something to you?” I choked the words out.

  His eyes were gemstones. Cold. “No,” he said. “She might’ve been able to be something to me. If I had it in me to want that.”

  “What do you want from me, Liam?” I sighed. That’s what my voice was, my existence in this moment, a big sigh. I was too tired to carry my anger around anymore.

  “Everything,” he growled. “I want to scoop you out, everything you have, take it for myself, own it. And I know that’s not what you’re meant to say, that’s not what love is meant to be. But I don’t give a fuck. I’m beyond being honorable. So despite the fuck I have nothing to offer you, I want everything from you.”

  His words weren’t pretty or tender. But they worked. Because they were real. Ugly. And exactly what I needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Where are you going?” I demanded when I walked into the common room to see Emily dressed, in heels and a fucking power suit, complete with sling, her small Louis Vuitton suitcase beside her.

  She was tapping on her phone. “Do you not even have Uber in this town? How does anyone get anywhere? Horse and carriage?” she demanded.

  At this moment, Swiss chose to come from the kitchen, wearing nothing but low-slung sweats.

  It was safe to say he was hot.

  And had abs so defined water could run through the ridges like a creek.

  But we already knew that.

  Emily glanced at him too, with none of the female appreciation I was gazing at him with as he walked past. She clicked her fingers at him. “You, you can give me a ride to the airport.” It wasn’t a request.

  I wasn’t sure what surprised me more, that Emily clicked her fingers at a biker who I’d witnessed chop the digits of a man who didn’t give him the right answer to a question, or that Swiss stopped, smiled and replied, “Of course darlin’.”

  “You will not be taking her anywhere,” I snapped.

  He grinned at me. “Sorry, Claw will be absolutely heartbro
ken when he wakes up and she’s gone. He may even cry. I’m definitely taking her somewhere.”

  He walked away, presumably to get dressed, or to untie whatever girl he likely had tied and naked in his room. I knew this because he left his door open often.

  I directed my glare to Emily. “You cannot leave, you were shot last night,” I hissed.

  She sighed. “It was a flesh wound, Caroline. I have meetings today that I only would’ve been able to cancel had I been paralyzed. Even then, I would’ve at least been expected to be on video call.”

  I blinked at her. “You can’t be serious.”

  She nodded. “It was in my schedule to come here for one night, make sure you were mentally sound, punch Liam and then leave on the ten a.m. flight. I’ve accomplished everything I needed to. And I’m not going to let something stupid like a little cut disrupt my schedule.”

  “It’s a bullet wound!” I screamed. I was not usually this hysterical. The cool, calm and collected reporter was getting further and further away, the longer I stayed here. The longer I let myself really care about people.

  Emily moved her gaze from me to something behind me. I knew it was Liam, because he didn’t hesitate in moving to yank my back to his front. Not because I was in tune to his presence or I could ‘feel’ his stare—that was bullshit. We were getting back to that thing from before. That thing whenever I was in touching distance, he touched me. And when I wasn’t within touching distance, he moved to make sure I was. Last night was obviously an exception to that rule.

  “You need to take her back into that room and give her a good fucking,” Emily informed Liam.

  Liam didn’t miss a beat. “What if I’ve already done that?”

  And to be fair, he had done that. Very good. And very bad.

  “Well, you haven’t done it good enough because she’s getting all hysterical and dramatic,” she shot back.

  Liam chuckled into my neck. It was a sound I hadn’t heard before. It was beautiful. Warm.

  But I wasn’t feeling beautiful or warm right now.

  “It’s not dramatic to not want my best friend to get on a flight hours after she was fucking shot,” I hissed. “Tell her, Liam.”

  I waited for my...whatever he was, to have my back.

  Silence.

  I craned my head to glare at him. “Tell her,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He sighed. “Can’t do that, babe.”

  I yanked myself from his grip. “And why the fuck not?”

  “Because it’s safest for her to be back in New York, you know, where she’s not getting shot,” he replied, voice tight. Something moved behind his voice. I was too pissed, at both of them, to inspect it.

  “For the record, I’m not going because I think I’m going to get shot again, if I had it on the schedule, I’d stay,” Emily cut in. “I had fun.”

  Of course she did.

  I looked between the both of them. “Fuck.” I pointed to Swiss, who emerged from the hall with a woman who had red welts on her wrists and a dreamy smile on her face. “Do not leave without me,” I demanded. I looked to Emily. “I’m coming with you to the airport.

  She nodded. “I’ll allow it.”

  I didn’t look at Liam as I stomped back into our room to snatch a pair of jeans and a tee.

  He followed me.

  “I’m not talking to you,” I snapped, yanking off my leggings and putting on my jeans.

  He watched me dress with hungry eyes and a hard jaw. “Maybe you should think about going with her,” he said once I’d gotten my tee on.

  “I am,” I replied, slipping on my sneakers, thinking wistfully of my collection at my apartment.

  “No, not to the airport. To New York.”

  I froze. Looked up. “You want me to leave?”

  He moved to grab my hips. “No, I don’t fucking want that. But I don’t want you to stay in the middle of all of this.”

  I tried to jerk out of his grip. He wouldn’t let me.

  “You want me to run. Leave you,” I accused.

  He let me go to pace the room. “You were fucking shot at last night, Caroline!” he yelled. “You know what I’d have done if one of those bullets had hit you?” He stopped pacing to look at me, cold and calculated. “I would’ve eaten one myself.”

  My blood turned to acid. “Don’t you dare say that,” I hissed, my voice was shaking, either from fury or fear. “Don’t you dare use that as a weapon against me. That’s low, Liam. Even for you.”

  He realized what he’d done too late. “Peaches.”

  “No, Liam,” I said, turning from him and striding out, forgetting promises we’d made about walking away from each other. Breaking promises was kind of our thing now. I’m sure there would be a lot more to break before this was all over.

  * * *

  “Call me when you land,” I demanded.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Sure, because how else would you know I arrived safely, it’s not like a major airline crash would be on the news or anything,” she shot dryly.

  I flipped her the bird. My vision blurred a little. “Thank you for coming, Emily. You’re a good friend.”

  “I know I am,” she replied.

  I grinned. “And modest.”

  “I took a bullet for you, sister,” she said, waving her sling. “I’ll be dining out on this for years.” Her expression turned serious. “Make sure that’s the only bullet aimed in your direction. I can’t have a shooting mucking up my schedule again.”

  I nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Do better,” she said, voice almost soft. “I’m very glad Liam has come back from the dead much hotter and deadly and from what I can tell, better in the bedroom. I’m even glad he’s in an outlaw motorcycle club because no man with a normal job or lifestyle would’ve been able to hold your attention or stop you from getting off to war zones. But I’m also not at all glad that you’re not jetting off to a warzone. You’re in the middle of one.” She paused. “Just don’t get shot, okay?”

  A lump emerged in my throat. I swallowed roughly. “Okay,” I agreed.

  “Good.” Then she snatched her suitcase and walked away.

  Emily didn’t do goodbyes.

  * * *

  “Fuck,” Swiss muttered as blue lights flashed behind us.

  We’d barely left the airport, which was an hour away from the clubhouse, since their town was nowhere near large enough to boast even a small airport.

  And this town did not boast a paid off police force.

  Not that Swiss was even speeding.

  “Don’t say anything,” he commanded as he pulled over.

  I gave him a look. “Really? You think this is the point I’d decide to tell the authorities I’m being held prisoner?”

  He scowled in response.

  The window opened.

  “Fuck,” I hissed.

  Because Detective Rickens was at the window.

  “Can you step out of the vehicle, please?” he asked politely. He smiled at me. “Both of you.”

  Jagger

  “They should’ve been here hours ago,” he hissed, pacing the room. He shouldn’t have let fucking Swiss take her, it was under his watch that Caroline got shot at last night. But she’d stormed out and he’d been frozen by the pain in her voice at his careless words that he didn’t have the wherewithal to fucking chase her. To follow her on his bike.

  He couldn’t have even done that if he wanted to. Not after last night. There was no more slow, he’d called Rosie to let her know that. She’d agreed. There was a plan to ride out to Amber in the coming weeks, get a battle strategy ready, figure out how the fuck they were going to smoke Fernandez out of whatever compound he was hiding in.

  There was talk of sending in a couple of their best, Gage, Bull, Brock, Jagger himself. But that would not be as satisfying. But it would make it over.

  It needed to be fucking over.

  “We’ve got prospects, Blake and Claw out on the road, checking,” Hansen sa
id, expression blank but his eyes were worried.

  Because they both knew that Caroline and Swiss had not stopped for fucking ice cream. Neither of them had answered their phones. At first, Jagger had reasoned that Caroline was rightfully ignoring him. Then it became apparent that it was something else.

  “Yeah, we know they’re not on the fucking road,” Jagger hissed, unable to get the last conversation they had out of his mind. It made him sick to his stomach. He’d fucking threatened her with going through his death again if she got hurt. In a situation he’d fucking forced her into.

  What kind of piece of shit was he?

  “Wire should be calling us any second with the trace on the cellphones,” Hansen said.

  “I can’t lose her, brother,” he admitted, inches away from losing it. “I can’t fucking lose her.”

  Hansen’s jaw went hard. “This club is not losing anyone else. She is part of this club.”

  And she was. He wasn’t quite sure when it happened. But she was part of it. And he wasn’t sure if that made him happy. She was part of his club and that meant she couldn’t go out with her friend without getting shot at. Without getting her friend shot. She couldn’t drive to the airport without running into...whatever the fuck she’d run into. How much more was this war going to take from him? Was it really going to take away his second chance with Caroline?

  Was he really going to let it?

  Hansen’s phone rang.

  Jagger’s head snapped up as he watched him open it. His president betrayed nothing. “Thanks, brother.” He hung up. “Got them. They’re at the Liesten police department.

  Caroline

  “This is bullshit,” I said as Detective Rickens placed the third shitty cup of coffee in front of me. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You have been fraternizing with a known criminal organization, that gives me the right to hold you for questioning for up to twenty-four hours,” he said, sitting across from me.

  “No, you do not have that right when you are being paid by a criminal to harass people instead of doing your job,” I told him flatly. “The second you do that, you lose all of your rights in my eyes, and hopefully soon, the US government’s eyes.”