Deadline to Damnation Read online Anne Malcom (Sons of Templar MC #7)

Categories Genre: Biker, Dark, MC, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
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He had known how long it had been since the fucker showered, considered the smell spoke for itself.

But Wire had been working himself, literally, to the bone looking for intel, anything and everything to give them the upper hand. He was doing more grunt work than the men with guns. The way of the future, even outlaws weren’t immune to a war fought primarily with keyboards.

Everyone sat straighter.

“He’s coming here.”

Cade froze. “In Amber?” He had the sudden urge to sprint into the common room and lay his eyes on his wife, his children, just to make sure they were still there.

Wire shook his head. “Private took off from somewhere in Europe and will be landing at an airstrip on the other side of the country. Couldn’t get here for two days, if they hauled ass. Which they won’t.”

“How do you know that?” Cade demanded.

“Because they’re planning on meeting us at a warehouse twenty miles outside of Amber, got an encrypted message that said to be there at noon two days from now. A minute late, they’d march into Amber. It was heavily embedded in the deep web.”

Cade mused this. “They’re testing us.”

Wire nodded.

“This is a fucking trap,” Bull cut in.

“Of course it is,” Cade agreed. “But I think his promise on marching on Amber if we don’t show up holds true.” He looked to Wire. “He’s got a big entourage.”

Wire looked grim. “Yeah. A small fuckin’ army.”

Cade didn’t react. He had his own army. The rest of the clubs riding in wouldn’t get there in time, even if they hauled ass. They had families to protect, provisions to make. New Mexico would make it though. Two charters. Every one of his men was worth ten of those motherfuckers.

“We’ve got Southern charters riding in,” Brock cut in. “But won’t arrive in time,” he said, mirroring his thoughts.

Cade nodded. “He knew that. He’s been watchin’, waiting for this. ‘Cause he knows he won’t win on US soil. He can’t come in like he would in his territory. He couldn’t face off the whole of us. So he’s plannin’ on hitting the home charter. Makin’ an example.”

“Good thing we’re ready,” Gage said, cracking his knuckles.

Cade nodded once, even though he wasn’t sure how true that was.

Caroline

“What happened?” I rose as soon as Liam walked into the bedroom from church. I knew something was bad the second I saw his face.

He shook his head, taking my hand and dragging me into the bedroom.

The door slammed.

Yeah, it was bad.

I closed my laptop, the pit of my stomach finding a new bottom as I stood, kept my face blank and hoped that it wasn’t another death. That it wasn’t someone I’d come to like. To think of as family.

“Liam—”

I was cut off when he stalked forward. Something about the way he approached had me scuttling back until I hit the wall.

He didn’t hesitate in boxing me in.

Nor did he speak.

He grabbed the bottom of my tee, tore it over my head. I put my arms up to let him, they were shaking, my panties were soaked.

My bra was next.

Then my jeans.

Panties.

Until I stood there in front of him, naked, quivering, terrified and more turned on than I had been in my entire life.

Liam was still fully dressed. He hadn’t touched me, apart from to take off my clothes. But I felt his grip all over my body. If a stare could leave bruises, I’d be black and blue.

Slowly, with his eyes glued to mine, he knelt at my feet. I expected him to devour me with more than just his eyes, my body was crying out for it. He hadn’t explicitly ordered me to move, but I was frozen nonetheless.

Liam didn’t move to lay his mouth on the area that was silently begging for his attention. No, his hands gripped my hips and he rested his head on my stomach. In worship. Like a broken man finding solace.

And that’s exactly what he was doing. It was the single most beautiful and terrifying moment he’d shared with me. Counting the time he’d shared all those truths. Because without speaking, with kneeling in front of me, he was setting himself at my feet.

I moved my hands down, ran them through his hair. I didn’t speak. I know he didn’t need that from me.

He took a deep inhale, kissed the bottom of my stomach, glanced up at me with shimmering eyes and then he moved down. Way down.

And he worshipped me in a different way.

Later, much later, he made love to me in a way that was hello and goodbye at the same time.

“It’s happening,” he murmured against my chest.

I didn’t know what time it was. I knew it was dark. Hours had passed, meal times had gone unnoticed. We were feeding on each other, all of our desperate pain.


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