Wretched Love (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #1) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
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“She is,” he agreed, rubbing his hand along my bare arm. “And if you ever tried to take her from me, I’d kill you. You know that right?”

Everything in me froze.

He’d said it low, much too low for twelve-year-old ears. He’d kept the smile on his face, kept moving his hand.

My heart thundered, watching Violet who was utterly oblivious.

I believed him. That my husband, the man I slept next to, the man I still let make love to me, the one who nursed my daughter back to health when she had the flu, who coached her soccer team, who braided her hair... I believed that man would kill me.

I didn’t realize I was crying until Swiss’s thumbs brushed my cheeks, wiping the tears away.

I hadn’t seen him move, hadn’t seen him cross the distance between us. I’d been that caught up. That deep in my memories.

“I need you to understand,” I sobbed, clutching at his cut. It was the only thing holding me up right now. “How I got trapped. How it happened. Why I stayed for so long.” I hiccupped. “Why I left.” I blinked the tears from my eyes so I could focus on Swiss. “Why you are so important to me. Why you’re everything to me.”

Swiss pressed his forehead against mine. It wasn’t until then that I saw his eyes were wet too. “Don’t have the words, Countess,” he rasped, voice thick and broken. “Don’t have any words for you after all of that.” His hand gripped the back of my neck. Hard but not too hard. He was still being gentle. “What I will say is that you’re fuckin’ everything to me too. And I’m gonna spend my life tryin’ to make sure you get the happiness you deserve.”

He kissed me gently, closemouthed and quick.

Then he lifted me into his arms and took me into the bedroom.

I was out before my head hit the pillow.

SWISS

I watched Kate sleep for a long time after I took her clothes off, cataloging every inch of her skin, making note of what was healing quickest, what was takin’ longer. Every time my eyes touched a mark on her skin, I saw red.

She didn’t so much as move as I took off her clothes, put her under the covers. Not even when I moved the chair at the end of the bed so I could sit beside her.

No, she was out. Understandably. Purging all that shit, secrets she’d kept her entire adult life. That must’ve been like running a fucking marathon.

She shared it with me, even though it hurt her. Fuck, it took every ounce of energy and life from her. I watched it happen. She did that for me. For us.

It was something I couldn’t wrap my head around. A weight on my chest that kept me up the entire night, watching her, making sure her own chest rose and fell. I’d imagined the ways I would’ve killed the fuck who did that to her if he hadn’t been lucky enough to die from a heart attack. The fuck who had raped her.

Stole her innocence.

Her first experience of sex was forced. By a man she trusted, one who took something from her. Something I could never get back. Something I could never fix. And I didn’t even get the satisfaction of torturing and killing him.

The mother... If she was still alive, I’d deal with her.

Kate had gone from that house straight to a life with someone who made her feel worthless. Who belittled and terrified her. Another motherfucker who had abused her.

My blood was pumping hot through my body as I stared at Kate. It blew my mind. I had no idea how she’d survived all of that and still became the person she was. Soft. Loving. Magnificent.

It would torture me for the rest of my life, what she’d been through. What I couldn’t change. It’s what kept me up all fucking night, staring at her, stewing in my rage.

It was just before dawn when I rose from that chair. I’d been battling with the decision I’d finally made. Had tried to convince myself to peel off my clothes and get into bed with her like my instincts were screaming at me to do. But I had other instincts. Ones that were louder, hungry, and more powerful.

Those instincts had me brushing the hair from her head, laying a kiss there and leaving the house.

I’d come to know a lot about Kate’s body, attuned myself to it, out of survival more than anything. I’d watched her while she was unconscious for days. Fucking days. With a tube down her throat. Watching as her bruises bloomed. Hearing how her voice changed after someone tried to strangle the life from her.

I knew Kate. Every inch of her. So I was mostly certain that I had a handful more hours before she woke up. Which was the only reason why I left in the first place. If I had an inkling that her sleep was thin, that she was apt to wake up from one of those horrific fucking nightmares, I wouldn’t have gone.


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