Scars of Yesterday

The Sons of Templar MC. I'm sure you've heard of them.

They're infamous. Murderers. Criminals. Outlaws. But to me, they're family.

My husband wore the cut for well over a decade. For almost as long as he wore a wedding ring. Our marriage survived wars. Deaths. Blood. The cuts were deep. And they never healed quite right. But we survived. Until we didn't.

He promised me forever. And he gave it to me. His version of it, at least. Mine was longer, though. Much longer.

I wanted to blame the Sons for killing my husband, wanted to hate the club. The cut. But that was impossible. Especially when I found myself falling in love with another man wearing the same cut.

Just when I thought there was nothing left in me to wound, he cut me the deepest.

Contains mature themes.

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Hljóðbók: 14 januari 2025