Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) - Anne Malcom Page 0,109

wasn’t really focusing on his promises of death and murder. I was used to such things. In fact, I expected them. That was the way of this life. It was hard at first. To see death and violence used as currency. Giving us things and taking them away. Having violence be the first reaction. Retaliation. But like with everything else, I got used to it. Surrounded by enough of things, even the most horrible of things, they become normal. Beyond that, I wanted blood. Kace was right, whoever this was knew where I lived. Knew my routines. Knew about my kids. My conscience could handle this person being dealt with if it meant my children weren’t in danger.

So none of that bothered me.

What needed further discussion was the first part.

“Old Lady?” I repeated. There was no hiding from it now.

Some of that alpha male fury left Kace’s face. “Yeah, babe. In case you haven’t noticed, we sleep together every night. We’re no longer a secret. I have breakfast with your kids. I love your kids. You’re on the back of my bike. Know you’ve been in this life long enough to know what that means. Also know that you’ve only been in this life belonging to someone else. Expecting to be theirs forever. So I know it fucks you up to hear me call you that. Know you got one hundred and one things to say about it too. All of them arguments. I hear them. I get you. I know you. If you don’t want me to be your Old Man, I get it. But you are my Old Lady. So I’m going hunting. Now, I’m gonna let you sit out here. Stew. But not for long. I’ll be in bed waiting for you.”

He kissed me hard on the lips before turning and walking away, leaving no room for arguments.

We attended our first club party together as a couple.

It was damn near impossible to hide it after the snake incident. And I didn’t want to hide anymore. There was no point, really. Not with the kids knowing. I didn’t want to create any kind of emotional bullshit with them, thinking they had to keep secrets about relationships. Didn’t want to teach them that loss meant your life ended and that happiness wasn’t possible.

At the same time, I didn’t want them to think that their father was forgotten or that he hadn’t meant the world to me. It was a thin fucking tightrope to walk, but that was life. That was motherhood.

I’d never been comfortable with PDA, plus I still wasn’t uncomfortable in this new skin. With old memories merging always into the present. Ranger’s ghost lurking. It felt strange but not wrong.

No one treated us like it was wrong, of course. There were plenty of grins. The men seemed to be happy about the pairing, but I was sure there were also warnings of death and dismemberment should Kace fuck with me. A punishment that he’d surely been well aware of before he’d started up with me.

The beers I’d drank before leaving home helped with my feelings of unease. Then the margaritas Amy made. Kace had one beer then switched to soda, since we were with the kids. He encouraged me to have fun. It was jarring, to be part of a couple again. A team. Where one could get a little tipsy knowing the other was sober enough to deal with any kind of scrapes or emergencies with the children, able to drive everyone home.

It scared me. A lot. Knowing what it was like to have that taken away, losing that half you’d learned to rely on. I wanted to push him away. Wanted to run from this. But I kept my feet on solid ground. Kace’s hand sliding into mine, anchoring me.

“As much as I want to keep you here, getting tipsy so I can fuck my woman drunk later on, the kids are getting tired, and this party will become X-rated in another hour or so,” Kace murmured in my ear.

A quick glance around told me he was right. Everyone who’d brought kids were rounding them up and piling them into various vehicles. The music was getting louder now, and the handful of members who were unattached—slightly more now due to the infusion of new patches after the war—getting drunker. The club girls would arrive shortly, of course, only after every child was gone. It wasn’t dark yet, but it would be soon. It had been