No. There were no smiles.
Killian felt anger bubble up within him. It was new. For the past year, he had been numb. Unfeeling. Apart from the times he unwittingly turned on the radio and heard her. Turned on a TV and saw her. Opened a fuckin’ magazine. She was everywhere. His girl was taking over the world, just like he knew she would.
Apart from the fact she wasn’t his girl anymore, he saw to that. That was why it felt like a thousand bullets passed through his body when he heard her throaty voice singing tortured songs. When he saw her on stage with thousands of people screaming at her.
That was why he made a conscious effort to not turn on the radio, not look at a magazine, not watch TV. The pain would kill him if he didn’t turn it off. So that’s what he did. He became a version of what Bull used to be. Didn’t smile. Didn’t laugh. Lived for the club. Took pleasure in doing the darker deeds, which helped numb him even more.
Then he was a fuckin’ glutton for punishment. ‘Cause every show she played, every one that got bigger and bigger as the band got bigger, he went to. He made a promise.
“Freckles, I’m never gonna miss a single one of your gigs. Never gonna miss my girl owning the stage, owning my soul.”
It didn’t matter he’d broken every other promise he made to her, that he’d never leave her, never hurt her. He wouldn’t break that one. So he went. Struggled through the gut-wrenching pain at seeing her on stage, loving her and hating himself more than he thought possible.
The hours after he broke it off, he actually didn’t know how it’d be possible to live with that self-loathing. That was until he parked himself at the club bar and commenced in drinking himself into oblivion.
Bull had stormed in about midway through. The way he glared at him told Kill he knew. Knew what he did to her. His stomach clenched.
“You gonna kill me, at least let me finish my beer,” Killian said, his voice flat.
Bull stared at him for a long moment; then he stepped forward. Killian didn’t even flinch. He’d welcome any other pain to distract him from what was killing him right now.
Bull surprised him by reaching over the bar and grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He poured the liquid into them and pushed one Killian’s way.
Killian raised a brow but took the glass and downed it, savoring the burn as it made its way down his throat.
Bull did the same. He regarded the glass for a moment then his dark gaze moved to Killian.
This is it. He’s going to kill me now, Killian thought.
Instead, he clapped him on the shoulder in an almost comforting gesture. “Know why you did it,” he grunted. “Why you’re lettin’ her go,” he clarified. He looked around. “She’s better than this place. Destined for more. She wouldn’t have left it.”
Killian nodded in agreement.
“So I’m not gonna kill you for destroying her,” Bull growled and Killian flinched. “I’m not gonna do it ‘cause I know you did it so she could do what she was meant to.”
There was a long silence after Bull’s words and he gave his shoulder another squeeze before leaving Killian with his thoughts and, more importantly, the bottle.
Kill stared at the man’s back, at the hard cut of his jaw, seven months on from that day. He respected the hell out of Bull. Even liked him. He was his brother. His family. Lexie’s family.
He was so fuckin’ angry at the fact that both he and, more importantly, Lexie were getting faced with this shit. That life was shittin’ all over what they’d built from the ashes of their old lives.
The doors opened again, and Killian froze the moment his eyes cut to it, locking with the eyes he saw in his dreams. He flinched at the utter sorrow and despair in them and the way they hardened looking at him. She quickly moved her gaze away, running to embrace Bull.
Sam, Wyatt, and Noah trailed after her. They all gave him murderous glares the moment they realized he was there.
He didn’t care about them. His gaze was locked on the blonde head that was bent close to Bull. At the little body encased in some beautiful hippy getup that was her. Completely her. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
He clenched his fists on his knees. She was there. Right there. Beautiful. Fucking stunning. Hurting. And he couldn’t fuckin’ touch her.
He didn’t know if he would be able to swallow his anger, his hatred for himself, but he somehow managed it.
“Mia Williams?” a brisk voice asked.
Killian shot off his chair before he even realized he’d done it. A doctor was speaking to Lexie and Bull. His heart stopped, literally stopped. He hoped, he fuckin’ prayed, that doctor wasn’t breaking what was left of his girl’s heart.
Not my girl, he reminded himself. No, she’d always be his. No matter what. And he’d always be hers.
He sank back into his chair when he saw the smile on her beautiful face, the moment she embraced Bull.
It was one fleeting moment, he almost missed it, no way he could hold onto it, but he could taste it. Happiness. For the first time in seven months, a little of the sweet he’d become accustomed to in the two years he was with her.
Then it was gone. As soon as she and Bull followed the doctor behind some doors, it was gone.
“Thank the fuckin’ lord,” Lucky exclaimed from beside him, grinning and slapping him on the back. “We’ve got a kid! Time to party,” he declared with a glint in his eyes.
Everyone else quickly lost their somber moods and smiles spread through the group. Apart from Killian. He didn’t smile. His eyes were locked on those doors, and they stayed lock for he didn’t know how long. Long enough for people to leave, for him to reply that moment seven months ago hundreds of times.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t have her so fuckin’ close and not see her. Touch her. Say fuckin’ sorry. Beg for her forgiveness. Every reason for letting go melted away and all that mattered was Lexie.
He pushed off his chair, one destination in mind.
Lexie.
He didn’t get far before a large form blocked his way. His eyes met familiar ones. Ones that weren’t light and smiling like they usually were. They were hard and full of fury.
Being a rock star hadn’t changed him much. He’d filled out a bit more, his hair a bit more “done,” clothes noticeably more expensive, still all black. Silver round his neck and knuckles a fuck of a lot more expensive.
“Get out of my way, Sam,” Killian gritted out.
“No fuckin’ way,” Sam answered, stepping forward slightly. “No fuckin’ way are you going anywhere near her after what you did,” he spat. “You broke her. Fuckin’ shattered her. You wouldn’t even recognize her if you spoke to her,” he continued, and Killian flinched with his words.
Sam’s eyes hardened. “You are not destroying what’s left of my best friend,” he declared.
Killian stared at him a long time, then at Noah and Wyatt, who flanked him, both glaring at him in hatred.
“I’m not keen on causing Lexie pain, especially on the one fuckin’ day in seven months she’s had to be happy,” Wyatt gritted out. “But I will if you try to talk to her. Swear to God, I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you try to do that. Motorcycle cut or not,” he promised.
Killian clenched his fists to his sides, breathing rapidly. He realized on their faces the bitter truth of what he’d done. He felt fresh hatred for himself and he swallowed it. He knew what he’d done.
He’d lost his girl forever.
“Take care of her,” he choked out to the boys. Then he turned on his boot and walked out. Walked away from them. From her.
That fleeting glimpse of her, that taste of happiness would be what kept him going for three more years. Three years until he saw her again. Until he realized what a huge fuckin’ mistake he made. Until he vowed to do whatever he could, die if need be, to get her back.
To get her safe.
“None of me is left for you because you took it all away. There’s just an empty body. A skeleton. That’s all we are now, weathered
bones of a long dead love that died that day on the dock. That you killed that day on the dock.”
“Breathe” Pearl Jam
“The Greatest” Cat Power
“Lost Boy” Ruth B
“Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” Bob Dylan
“We Don’t Eat” Alice Kristiansen (Cover of James Vincent McMorrow)
“Monsters” Katie Sky
“No Matter What” Papa Roach
“Church” Hozier
“Scar Tissue” The Red Hot Chili Peppers
“The Unclouded Day” Audra Mae
With every book I write it seems the list of people to thank gets longer. This is in no way a bad thing. My writing journey has been full of ups and downs (mainly ups) and I’m lucky to have met some wonderful people along the way. I’ve also been reminded how many amazing people I already have in my life.
Mum, how lucky I am to have you. You’ve always been my biggest cheerleader and have believed in me even when I couldn’t believe in myself. None of this would have been possible without you. You’re my hero.
This book wouldn’t be what it is without my wonderful team of betas. These special ladies helped to make this book what it is. Ginny, Caro, Amy, Sarah, and Judy... you are amazing. Thank you.
Andrea, Momma Bear and beta extraordinaire, you are such a positive force and I’m so thankful I’ve got you.
Amo Jones. What would I do without you? You’re a wonderful writer, an irreplaceable friend, and a spectacular person. Love you always.
And to you, the reader. Thank you. Thank you for reading my books. Thanks for every e-mail, comment, and review you give me. None of this would be possible without you.
Anne
xxxx
Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)
Firestorm (Sons of Templar MC #2)
Outside the Lines (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)
Out of the Ashes (Sons of Templar MC #3) – Zane & Mia’s story
Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)
www.annemalcomauthor.com
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ANNE MALCOM has been an avid reader since before she can remember, her mother responsible for her love of reading. It started with magical journeys into the world of Hogwarts and Middle Earth, then as she grew up her reading tastes grew with her. Her love of reading doesn’t discriminate, she reads across many genres, although classics like Little Women and Gone with the Wind will hold special places in her heart. She also can’t get enough romance, especially when some possessive alpha males throw their weight around.
One day, in a reading slump, Cade and Gwen’s story came to her and started taking up space in her head until she put their story into words. Now that she has started, it doesn’t look like she’s going to stop anytime soon, with many more characters demanding their story be told as well.
Raised in small town New Zealand, Anne had a truly special childhood, growing up in one of the most beautiful countries in the world. She has backpacked across Europe, ridden camels in the Sahara and eaten her way through Italy, loving every moment. For now, she’s back at home in New Zealand and quite happy. But who knows when the travel bug will bite her again.
Anne Malcom, Echoes of Silence (Unquiet Mind Book 1)
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