Wrathful Souls (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #3) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
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So yeah, I’d been in somewhat of a fugue state with Colby earlier. Now I wasn’t.

He didn’t say a word, just yanked me into his arms and let me stain his cut with my tears.

We stayed like that for a while, me clutching him, quietly crying into his cut, reveling in how hard his chest was, how safe I felt in his arms.

Then after a while, I stopped crying, stopped feeling the pain and fear, and I started to feel pissed off. Really fucking pissed off.

“My best friend in the world was almost murdered by a serial killer, Colby,” I hissed, my voice shaking. “My pregnant best friend.”

A muscle in his jaw ticced, his posture tight like he was barely holding himself together. “I fuckin’ know,” he ground out. “I was there to see her covered in blood, a fucking knife in her.”

My stomach roiled. Though his voice was flat and dead, I could feel the emotion radiating off him. He cared about Violet. And he considered himself the kind of man who would take care of those he cared about. He and the rest of the Sons were all blaming themselves for this happening.

Most especially Swiss and Elden.

“This happened in our club,” he rasped out. “Where Violet was supposed to be safe. Where Jenna was supposed to be safe.”

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Though she was injured and likely traumatized for life, Violet was alive. The same could not be said for Jenna, one of the ‘club girls’ who had been brutally murdered. I’d seen her in passing. Spoken to her a little. She was nice. Sweet.

Now she was nothing.

It was one thing to become obsessed with these crimes, to grieve for a nameless woman whose smile I hadn’t seen, whose laughter I hadn’t heard. I’d been so fired up to get involved in this somehow, excited in a sick way. Yet now I felt cold and terrified.

“We’re takin’ care of this, Ri,” Colby said, gentler this time. “No other woman is getting hurt because of this sick fuck.”

“You’re damn right,” I agreed, straightening my spine and doing my best to fight back tears. “You fuckers better find him before I do.”

I’d planned on using that as my exit line, but I barely got halfway around before a strong grip found my upper arm, and Colby yanked me to him.

Our bodies pressed together, my arm between us, our faces inches apart.

His breath was hot on my face, fury emanating off him as his eyes narrowed on me. “No way in fuck are you getting anywhere near this, Sariah,” he seethed.

I will admit, I was somewhat perturbed at this rapid change in Colby, his unbridled fury and the way his hand was biting into my upper arm hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to bruise, actually.

Considering all that I’d gone through in the past handful of hours, I hoped I’d mustered up a decent poker face.

“No way in fuck are you telling me what to do,” I snarled, leaning in so our faces were just inches apart.

Colby’s eyes dilated, his grip tightening. I had to bite my lip so I didn’t whimper in pain. I knew that if I did whimper in pain, Colby would’ve let me go immediately. But I didn’t want him to let me go. I wanted him to hurt me more.

We were both breathing heavily. Both furious. Both terrified. Both out for the blood of the man who’d hurt our friend and was killing women without mercy or consequence.

I don’t know who made the first move.

Later, I would convince myself it was him. Like it mattered. Because even if he had moved first, I didn’t hesitate to respond. Enthusiastically.

Our lips crashed together with violence, with desperation.

His hand was in my hair, and he released the grip on my arm only so he could grasp my ass, lifting me one-handed.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, moaning into his mouth as I ground myself against him. He was already rock hard.

It did not occur to me that we were in a—luckily—abandoned hallway of a busy hospital. But it did occur to him, walking us into the nearest room which was somehow uninhabited.

The door slammed shut behind us. I barely noted that, grinding against Colby’s jean clad cock with abandon, desperate for him. Desperate for release. I’d never felt this wild before. This overwhelmed with pure need. This frantic to feel alive.

Pain erupted in my scalp as Colby grasped a fistful of my hair, yanking so my mouth was no longer on his.

“Fuck, Sariah,” he groaned, his voice guttural. “I’ve been waiting to taste you for fuckin’ months.”

I stared at him, heart thundering in my chest, pussy drenched. “Well, fucking taste me, then, Colby.”

He let out a low growl from the back of his throat, knowing exactly what I meant. And he didn’t hesitate. One second I was in his arms, the next I was thrown down on the thin mattress of a hospital bed.



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