Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
<<<<72829091929394102112>135
Advertisement2


“Whatever,” I sighed, glancing toward the TV because I needed to escape his gaze. He’d put on True Blood because he loved vampires, something I’d recently discovered. That guy was always full of surprises. Then again, there were a lot of pretty graphic sex scenes that I was sure held his attention too.

It pissed me off that I was now addicted to the show. And the man who had turned me onto it.

Kace stared at me for a few beats more, then sat on the couch, lifting my legs and placing them so they were draped across his lap.

I didn’t try to pull them back because I liked his warmth and his presence. Today had shaken me. Some faceless stranger creeping up to my home while my kids and I were sleeping, cutting my brakes? For what purpose? Were they going to try something again?

Yeah, I was scared. Not enough to cower, to hide away from the world. But enough to let Kace sit with me and watch TV and rub my feet, despite being scared by the casual intimacy of it all.

We didn’t speak for a long time.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he informed me.

“No you’re not,” I snapped.

“Beyond the fact that the doctor said someone needs to observe you, someone cut the brakes to your car. They didn’t do it because you’re a slow driver, babe. They did it ‘cause they wanted to hurt you. End you. Neither of those things sit right with me. So I’m staying. You can argue with me all you like. It’s happening.”

“The kids—”

“The kids like me. The kids also know that their mother got hurt today. They know the patch I wear means something. That it will keep them safe. And I know this is a fucked-up way to do it, but they were gonna find out about us sooner or later. This stopped being about sex a long time ago, and you know it. We’re not hashing this out right now because I can see by the way you’re pinching your eyebrows together, you’re hurting like a bitch, though, no way in fuck you’d admit it. So I’m going to run you a bath. You’re gonna let me help you in and out of it. Then I’m putting you to bed. I’m gonna be in there with you too. ‘Cause I need to sleep with your warm body next to mine. You’re gonna try and fight that, too, out of instinct. But you want me there.”

I bit my lip. Lying was a habit I was trying to curb. Or at least trying to reduce. Lying to Kace about my feelings seemed pointless; he saw everything. It felt wrong, too, in the face of all of the honesty he’d shown me.

“Fine,” I gritted out.

He grinned, but chose not to gloat, which was definitely in his best interest.

He stayed the night.

And the next one too.

Three Weeks Later

Nothing had happened since the accident.

Well, a lot had happened. Just no one trying to kill me again. My scratches and bruises healed, like they’d never been there. Life returned to a semblance of normal.

A normal that included Kace in my bed every night. The first night after the accident, I’d let the kids wake up to him, but to the idea that he’d slept on the sofa. Neither of them seemed overly bothered, mostly because he made them waffles with whipped cream on them.

He stayed every night, but he crept out to his place as the sun rose. Having to wake before the sun and not sleep in his own bed didn’t seem to bother Kace. Not in the slightest.

The fact that he was sleeping next to me every single night should’ve bothered me more. At least a little bit. It didn’t.

I’d submitted to him physically from the first time we had sex. It took a lot longer for me to submit to him in other ways, though.

Especially two weeks after the accident. I’d woken up early and hadn’t fallen back into an unsettled slumber like I normally did when Kace left. Instead, I got up, made coffee and sat out in the garden with my laptop. Writing.

I was doing that more these days. The days when I should’ve been looking for a job, finding a way to support my family. But I didn’t do that. I continued to do all off the things that I’d done when Ranger was alive. And in my free time, I was on my laptop writing. There was a constant club presence, of course. Whether it be Kace or a prospect sitting on my sofa or outside my house.

Even though nothing had happened since the accident.

As stupid as it was, I’d all but forgotten about the fear I was supposed to be feeling, knowing that someone was out there wanting to do me harm. There wasn’t room for it. And I did feel protected by Kace’s presence. I felt confident in my ability to protect myself and my kids.


Advertisement3

<<<<72829091929394102112>135

Advertisement4