Three Kinds of Trouble (Sons of Templar MC #9) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Biker, Crime, Dark, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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Hades narrowed his eyes at the distance I’d put between us, then at the horrified and hurt look I was sure was on my face. Because horror—and mostly hurt—was coursing through my veins right then.

“The only reason you’re here?” I whispered, hating the sound of my voice. Where was my anger? My sass? That’s what I needed right now. A fuck of a lot of sass.

Hades’s face transformed then. Almost completely. “Fuck,” he muttered, stepping forward.

I held up my hand to stop him. He ignored that, grasping onto my wrists and yanking me forward.

As much as I really wanted to be pissed at him, I didn’t fight his embrace. No, I gave myself permission to relax into his arms.

“Baby, fuck, no,” he murmured against my hair. “You are the reason. You are the reason I didn’t fuckin’ die in a parking lot. You are the reason that I’ve found a reason to actually look forward to wakin’ up every morning. You are the reason I’ve lied for the past two months, no matter how fucking sick it’s been making me feel.” He pulled me back so he could cup my jaw, searching my eyes for something. “That’s seriously what you’re upset about right now?” I inched back so I could glare at him. “Seriously? Of course, that’s what I’m upset about right now.”

“I killed him,” he told me, his voice chilly once more. “I killed the man who put his hands on you. Then Swiss cut him to pieces, and we dissolved his body in acid. Left no evidence.”

I screwed up my nose, the thought of all that turning my stomach. “Really?” I snapped. “I have so much cake batter inside me right now, and I don’t want to experience it coming back up.”

When I pulled from his arms, I tottered ever so slightly on my heels, which wasn’t common for me. His face shut down again.

“What the fuck?” I snapped.

“I just told you, in detail, how I murdered a man you used to sleep with,” he replied in a clipped tone.

“Yes, too much detail,” I exclaimed, rubbing my bare arms. Sure, there was a chill tonight, but the goosebumps coating my skin had nothing to do with that.

“That doesn’t bother you,” He phrased this as a statement; it wasn’t structured as a question. “That I’m a criminal. A murderer.”

I frowned at him. “I’ve known that’s what you were since pretty much the first moment we met.”

Apparently, my response did not help the situation.

Like at all.

“I’ve fucked this all up,” he muttered, brushing his hands down his face.

“Fucked what all up?” I demanded.

“You!” he exclaimed, as close to shouting as I’d ever heard him. “I fucked you up. Brought you into a world that you don’t deserve to be in. One you don’t belong in.”

It would’ve been less painful if he’d slapped me in the face.

“I don’t belong?” I croaked.

His answer was a curt nod.

I shook my head. Then I started to pace. “My entire fucking life, I’ve never had a home. Certainly not the one I was born into. The second I could, I left that place. And for well over a decade, I’ve been drifting around this country, looking, desperately searching for where I fit.”

I turned to glare at him for a second before I continued. “Sure, I’m an easy-going gal, albeit one with a very complicated skincare routine, but other than that, I’m pretty laid back. I can have fun anywhere. I could win a gold fucking medal at pretending I fit in. But never, not once, have I felt the way I feel with you.” My voice broke ever so slightly, but I sucked in an unsteady breath and pressed on. “The way I feel in this town. When I’m at club parties. When I was at Macy and Hansen’s barbeques. When I’m on the back of your bike.”

I stopped pacing and turned to look at Hades. To glower at him. I had no other choice since it was either glower or burst into tears. And I could not give him that.

“Jesus, Freya,” he muttered, looking about as sheepish as he should look. “I didn’t mean it like that. No one belongs on the back of my bike except you.”

I would’ve fucking loved that sentence had it not come right after he said all the other stuff. “If you didn’t mean it like that, how exactly did you mean it, Hades?” I spat out his name like an accusation, like a weapon.

I had needed a weapon. I’d come into this woefully unarmed.

“I mean that I won’t do this to you,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I won’t fucking drag you into a world that you shouldn’t even know exists. You’re so much fucking better than that.”

“Stop,” I hissed. “Stop justifying keeping me at arm’s length because you think of yourself as some kind of demon and me as some kind of angel. Newsflash, buddy, angels don’t take their clothes off for money. Angels don’t dress like this.” I waved my hand at my body.


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