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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Colby’s features darkened. “Then you’ll sit here alone, with me. You’ll do whatever you’re doing. Alone. With me.”

The words cut through my alcohol fueled haze. He was serious. Very serious. And he’d been looking for me for over a year by the sound of it. My hope that he’d forgotten about me dashed. Then again, hadn’t I kind of been expecting this? Expecting him to chase me?

“You’re supposed to yell at me,” I whispered.

Colby frowned in confusion. He had obviously been expecting more back and forth, more of the bitchy Sariah. Unfortunately, she had abandoned me. “Say what?”

“You were supposed to yell at me,” I repeated. “Come in here, all alpha protective mode and tell me I’m being stupid, putting myself in danger then try to strong arm me back to the safety of your presence.”

“Not gonna yell at you, Ri,” he sighed.

The benevolent tone almost wrecked me, but I held fast. “Why not?” It didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like a plea.

“’Cause I can’t do that.” He reached out to stroke the back of his hand against my cheek.

I didn’t flinch at this contact. Instead, I did the unthinkable…. I leaned into it.

“Yeah, you pissed me off, confused me and hurt Violet by disappearing with nothing but a note, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop caring about you. Doesn’t mean anyone is gonna stop caring about you.”

That time, flinching was unavoidable as his words hit home. I’d done my best not to think about what I’d created by running away. I had told myself it was for the best, but I knew my best friend well enough to know that I’d hurt her by leaving.

That’s why I was always on the move, always drinking… Anything to distract me from thinking about what I’d left behind. My friend. Her new baby. My new friends. My degree. Oh, and the person I used to be. Although I didn’t leave her behind. She died in a cold warehouse.

“You wanna leave now?” Colby asked as I finished my drink.

I did not want to leave. Because I wanted to leave. The bar, like most I’d been patronizing the past couple of years, was dark, shabby and mildly depressing. Exactly how I liked them.

Now Colby was here, looking at me, making me see what he saw: a drunk, sloppily dressed me in the middle of the day.

Not cute.

If we walked out together, the harsh sunlight would illuminate the dark shadows under my eyes, the way my hair was dull, stringy, washed with cheap motel soap. Not to mention the ripped jeans, Walmart sneakers, oversized flannel and the stained white tank I had on.

I didn’t want him seeing me like this. I didn’t want anyone seeing me like this. Which was the whole point of me running around the country, drinking in dive bars, wearing polyester.

But what other option did I have? Drink more until I fell off my stool and Colby carried me out unconscious.

“Yeah,” I guess we can go,” I sighed.

I was looking down when I spoke, unable to meet Colby’s eyes, growing painfully sober painfully quickly.

Colby grasped my chin, tilting it upward so our eyes met.

“Stop thinkin’ it,” he ordered.

I pulled back, his hand dropping. “Thinking what?”

“Whatever bullshit you’re tellin’ yourself right now.”

“Unless I’ve missed something, you do not have the ability to read minds,” I snapped.

“Can’t read your mind, I just know you. Understand you. So I know you’re thinking all sorts of shit right now because of that.” He motioned to the empty glass. “Because of the pain you’re trying to dull. I’m not judging you for how you’re dealing. Not a fuckin’ bit. But I’m asking you not to be so fucking hard on yourself. And I’m also telling you that nothing is going to change how I see you.”

My eyes welled up with tears. All of the words were delivered with a firm sincerity as well as a kind of tenderness I wasn’t equipped to deal with.

Instead of saying anything back, or worse, bursting into tears, I hopped off the stool and snatched my purse.

“Let’s go, then.

I turned and stomped toward the exit, angrily swiping my eyes, knowing that Colby was following me.

Knowing Colby would always follow me.

We rode back to my motel on the back of his bike.

I’d walked to the bar from my motel, knowing that I was never sober enough to drive by the time I came out. Colby wasn’t about to let me walk or get an Uber.

There wasn’t much point in fighting him on it. I was tired. Beaten. And fuck, if a girl just didn’t want to wrap her arms around a hot biker and ride off into the sunset with him.

So I let it happen.

Well, not the ride off into the sunset part since we were driving to my shitty motel in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. The town itself wasn’t shitty. Actually, it was pretty kick ass. Old Victorian houses were perched on cliff faces, lovingly restored. The whole place had a feeling of magic about it.



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