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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Sarah smiled. “I think I’ve got my hands full with the personal consultations,” she replied, giving a meaningful look around the clubhouse. “But you can always call me if you have any concerns.”

Emily grinned. “I will.”

Sarah looked to me. “I’ve just given her some pretty heavy painkillers, so it would be a good idea to get her to bed soon.”

“Yes, it will be a good idea,” Emily piped in.

I glared at her, mouthing ‘stop.’ She rolled her eyes, but her movements slowed as the drugs kicked in.

Sarah squeezed my arm.

For someone who wasn’t big on human contact, I didn’t have a bad reaction to Liam’s ex squeezing my arm.

“You okay?” she asked. “Things like that get...heavy.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I’m kind of used to heavy.”

She glanced to the door. “I can see that.”

She gave me another squeeze and helped me get Emily up.

“It was nice to meet you,” I said, truly meaning it as I started to walk Emily toward the hall.

“It was really nice to meet you too,” she said, truly meaning it.

Fuck. She was nice.

“She had nice tits,” Emily murmured.

Jagger

“What do we know?” Hansen all but barked at the table.

He was tense.

They all were.

Another hit on this club, on fucking women.

It was not going down well, to say the least.

Hansen had three prospects along with Blake and Hades and his place. And his security was a fortress.

He was taking no chances with his wife and children.

Jagger didn’t blame him.

Caroline was in the next fucking room and he was coming out of his skin thinking about that small distance. Thinking about how close it had been to her bleeding, not staunching the bleeding of her friend.

He wished he could kill them all over again.

Slow.

“No tats, no affiliations on the bodies,” Claw cut in. He was pissed. Beyond pissed. This happened under his watch. And Swiss. They would answer for it. When Liam was sure he wouldn’t kill them.

“Think they’re likely paid guns,” Swiss cut in. “Paid to watch, look for opportunity to hurt the club.”

“Well you fuckin’ gave it to them, didn’t you, brother?” Jagger seethed, unable to help himself.

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.”



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