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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She chuckled sardonically before starting in on me again. “You know, since she technically can’t drink her troubles away on account of her pregnancy. But she could wallow. She could refuse to get out of bed, threaten to kill people who look at her wrong, pretty much turn into a toxic, bad person. But she won’t do any of that either. You know why? Because she’s tougher than you. With your enforcer patch and your deadly glower. She’s so much fucking tougher than you. And—"

“Macy, enough.”

Both of us turned to stare at Hansen, standing at the door to church. Even I was fucking shocked. Hansen had never spoken to his wife like that, and the motherfucker never interrupted her when she was on a roll like that.

Hansen’s expression was grave.

He only looked that way when someone was dead. I tried to get myself to care. A brother? A member from another chapter? Someone I’d drank with? Fucked? Not sure why I even asked myself those questions since my reaction was the same regardless. I was totally fucking apathetic.

I abandoned my drink. “Tell me who I have to kill,” I told Hansen without emotion, not bothering to acknowledge Macy. Her words had all hit fucking true. Freya was fucking better than me. Which was why I’d stayed away. I would do nothing but ruin her and that child’s lives if I hadn’t.

“No, fuck.” Hansen ran his hand over his head, eyes flickering to Macy in something that resembled panic. I felt a reaction then. Something deep and carnal. “It’s Freya.”

“You tell me what the fuck you have right now, or I won’t be responsible for my actions,” I seethed in Hansen’s face.

We were in church. He hadn’t told me jack shit since her name had come out of his mouth in that flat fucking way that had terrified me.

We were in church, with a full table. “Careful, brother. That’s your president,” Jagger bit out. He was right up against me. I knew his hand was on his gun. Swiss was on my other side. His hand was also on his gun. All my other brothers were preparing to take me down if need be. They’d correctly pegged me as a man apart. In fucking pieces. The patch on my back was nothing but decoration at this moment.

“Stand down,” Hansen commanded. He wasn’t talking to me.

After a loaded pause, both Jagger and Swiss retreated. The air was still tense.

Hansen kept his eyes on me. “Her aunt reported her missing about an hour ago. Wire has been keeping tabs, so he picked it up quick”

My heart stilled.

“Missing?” I repeated.

Hansen nodded gravely. “Waitin’ on Wire to get back to me, but that’s all I know right now.”

“All you know?” I repeated again, my voice still, cold.

Swiss moved closer to me, correctly clocking that I was seconds away from losing it.

“Okay, if that’s all you know, let me get you caught up on some shit,” I spat.

“She loves disaster movies,” I gritted out, pacing, unable to be still. “The cornier the better. The more destruction the better. She’s seen most of them at least three times but still sobs her heart out at the ending. Every damn time.” I kept pacing because if I stood still, if I stopped, the weight of my memories would settle too heavily. I would not be able to stand under the weight of them. I would have to kill someone. “She loves sugar. Fucking loves it. She’s a vegan who eats cheeseburgers once a month because she can’t deprive herself. She bakes when she’s nervous. People meet her and worship at her feet because they feel compelled to, like they have no other choice.”

Everyone in the room was staring at me. I didn’t give a fuck. I couldn’t stop. If I stopped, someone was dead.

“One of her best friends is a sixty-eight-year-old man. She met him at the grocery store, saw that he was sad and lonely in a way that most people don’t notice. Or people who pretend they don’t notice, not giving enough fucks to do anything about it. But she did. She did what no one else would do, she did something about it. She invited him to her home for dinner. Not once out of pity. She brought that man back to fucking life. Because that’s who she is. And she’s carrying my fucking kid!”

The last part I roared because it was tearing me apart.

No one spoke. No one dared touch me. No one dared fucking breathe.

I had no idea what I would’ve done if Hansen’s phone hadn’t rung when it did. Not taking his eyes off me, Hansen turned it on speakerphone. “You’ve got the full table, brother, and you better have some fuckin’ news.”

“I’ve got the footage from the grocery store parking lot,” Wire’s voice announced, the tapping of keys also coming through. “She was either lucky or smart enough to park in full view of the cameras which were recently updated, so the picture is clear.” He cleared his throat. “The man who took her was either stupid or cocky ’cause he also parked in full view of the camera.”



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