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
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
<<<<891011122030>110
Advertisement


Colby held his hands up in surrender. “That it is, my man.” All of the Sons backed down whenever it looked like a confrontation with Julian was imminent. He was the one in control of the java, after all.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, all but tapping my foot in impatience.

As often as Colby came in here, he didn’t have a regular order. Presumably because he liked prolonging our interactions as much as possible, torturing me as much as possible.

“You know, as much fun as our back-and-forth has been, you strike me as a girl who goes after what she wants,” he drawled, leaning on the counter and getting way too close for my liking.

Regardless, I didn’t move. That would’ve given him the impression I couldn’t handle being close to him.

“Woman,” I corrected. “And yes, I do go after what I want.”

“Well, see, that’s what’s got me confused. Because I know that’s the kind of woman you are, yet here we are.” He waved his hands between us. “You’re still fighting it.”

I shook my head. “Or could it be that I just don’t want you?” I asked sweetly.

“We both know you want me,” he leaned even closer. “We both know it’s me you think about when you make yourself come.”

I gripped the counter tighter and swallowed. “Are you going to order something, or are you going to get yourself arrested for sexual harassment?”

He didn’t lean back straight away, though the teasing glint in his eyes faded, and the pure hunger from that first shooting lesson made its appearance.

My knees shook, and my mouth moistened.

If he’d looked at me like that for much longer, I would’ve crawled over the counter and climbed him like a tree, audience be damned.

He leaned back after a handful of heavy breaths. The look was gone, the easy, playful expression back. He drummed his fingers against his chin, pretending to look up at the menu.

“Today I’ll do a dirty chai,” he announced. “Extra shot. And…” he looked into our full pastry cabinet. “A chocolate croissant.”

I scowled at him. “Right away, sir,” I said sarcastically.

“I like the sound of that,” he said under his breath. “I’ll like it more when it’s just the two of us.”

My step stuttered, but I managed to keep my expression even. This man was going to fucking destroy me.

CHAPTER

THREE

Things with Violet were going well. Really well. After her family’s initial shock over finding out her and Elden were not only a couple but they were going to have a baby wore off, everyone was supportive.

Except Swiss; he was still wary around Elden. Which made sense since I’d been there to witness the man literally pointing a gun in his face the very first time I’d been in the clubhouse.

Intense as fuck.

But I kind of got off on that. On the danger. The club itself. Practically everything about it attracted me.

Except Colby.

No.

Since Violet had made the decision to move back to Garnett and finish her degree online, I’d been going there as much as I could. Not just because I wanted to be there for my bestie, but because I liked it there. Something about the place spoke to me. The desert. The wild landscape.

And yes, the club. The women around it. It was so free. Without rules and judgment. It was the family I’d always wanted, so I was elbowing my way in even though I kind of had no right to.

Not that anyone made me feel anything but welcome.

I’d been careful not to be alone with Colby nor be drunk around him. That would likely end badly. The time on the roof didn’t count. I tried not to think about that night. Tried not to think about how I was holding that time sacred. I’d never felt a peace like that. Never felt so safe. And that was because of Colby. But I couldn’t think about that.

There was also a serial killer in the area. Like a lot of young women from my generation, I was obsessed with true crime. For reasons unknown, we had a sick fascination with men who hurt women. Maybe we wanted to learn about it so we knew what to look for. So we were constantly reminded that we were never safe and that we needed to be on guard at all times.

I wasn’t ready to delve into my reasons for this sick obsession. Instead, I was ready to catch a killer.

I’d recruited Ollie, our hacker roommate, to find out as much as she could. And she was really fucking good. There was a whole bunch of information that hadn’t been released to the public and that social media somehow hadn’t caught on to.

Women, all engaged in some kind of sex work—or woman who conventional misogynists would label as ‘whores’—had been brutally tortured and murdered within fifty miles of Garnett. They were always dropped somewhere they’d be found. Carelessly. Like trash.


Advertisement

<<<<891011122030>110

Advertisement