Wilting Violets (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #2) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 142818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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People walking past stared. I was making a scene in the middle of the quad, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Suddenly, that little girl inside of me didn’t want her daddy. She wanted to scream, stomp her foot, throw a tantrum in a way that only a toddler can … having not been conditioned to deftly hide their feelings beneath a veneer of lies.

My father opened his mouth.

“Don’t,” I stepped forward. “Don’t utter one single excuse or self-pitying explanation.” My eyes trailed up and down his body. “Not that you can sink lower in my estimation.” I blew out an angry breath. “You tried to kill my mother.You spent years torturing her, controlling her, beating her.” I found that I had been waving my hands and had begun jabbing my finger into his chest. I felt the real and sudden urge to attempt to rip him apart with my bare hands and a smaller, mortifying urge to fall into his arms.

Instead of doing either, I intended to push past him, find the nearest bar that didn’t card and drink myself silly.

But my father grabbed onto my wrist. His hand was both cold and clammy, and his grip was too hard.

The scent of his body odor had me scrunching up my nose.

“Violet,” he pled, squeezing my wrist enough to hurt. “You need to listen to me.”

My heart stopped pumping so quickly, and my fury was deflating fast, running out of me and giving way to those more complicated feelings of loss and longing.

“You need to let her go before I kill you with my bare hands and traumatize all of these privileged, young coeds,” a voice boomed from right beside me.

I jumped, my hand still held captive by my father. Obviously, I was not expecting my father to show up to my college campus, but I most definitely was not expecting Elden, complete in a Sons of Templar cut—it later occurred to me I’d never seen him out of it—standing in the quad, staring daggers at my father while literally threatening to kill him.

My father’s eyes flared at the sight of Elden, his hand squeezing tighter so I let out a little whimper of pain.

Elden’s fury turned palpable, and he stepped forward, looming over my father, making him look impossibly small and pathetic.

“Let. Her. Go.” Elden commanded, the air seeming to shimmer around him.

People were staring as they walked past, practically tripping over each other as they did so. It was not every day they saw an outlaw biker—who was hot in a way that college boys couldn’t be—looking like he was about to rip the arms off someone.

For a second, I worried this would turn into more of a scene, and I would actually witness my father being beaten to death then have to see Elden carted away and taken to prison for murder.

Something shifted in my father’s eyes, something cold, foreign, evil. Something that made me taste blood as my teeth sank into my lip.

He gave my wrist one last squeeze before letting me go. It was cruel, that squeeze. Born out of a need to inflict pain, prove a point. Exert some kind of power.

My stomach lurched, and I was thankful I hadn’t eaten today.

“Your mother did this,” he hissed. “Brought you down to the gutter with her, made you associate with trash.” He was obviously talking about Elden but not brave enough to look him in the eye as he did. “You’re going to ruin your life. You being around those criminals that whore has obviously forced you to associate with.”

I recoiled as if he’d hit me. My mother, I assumed, was the whore.

Elden tensed further, and I got the impression he was going to do something, so I stepped in front of him, which likely pissed him off to no end, but I didn’t really care at that point.

He was going to protect my honor, or whatever the fuck. Except I could protect my own.

“My mother associated with trash for eighteen years of her life,” I countered coldly. “She’s finally living the life she deserves. With a real man, not some…” I looked him up and down with disgust. “Coward. If I ever see you again, I’m getting a restraining order. Leave now, before I decide to let Elden do what he’s yearning to do and beat you to a pulp just like you did to my mother for fucking years.”

I didn’t give my father a chance to spew anything else. I turned my back on him and walked away.

Elden followed me.

Chapter Seven

For once, no one was at the house.

It was quiet, smelled of some expensive candle Sariah had left burning—she did this quite often, so it really was a miracle that the house hadn’t burned down yet—and the sage she’d burned just yesterday to protect us from negative energy.



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