SOULLESS (Black Thorns, #2) by Franca Storm Read Free Book Online

journey to my place. Both of them had been so shocked that they’d barely said a word to me. They’re both tough-as-nails alpha male types and sensitivity isn’t exactly their strong suit. They probably didn’t know how the hell to handle the situation.
    That awkwardness is why I asked them to wait downstairs. I needed time to get myself together, so I can appear completely fine when I join them again.
    I snatch up my jacket and the gym bag I packed with a few clothes and supplies to tide me over for a while. I start towards the bedroom door.
    And that’s when I see I was incredibly wrong. Those footsteps I heard don’t belong to Neil or my dad.
    They belong to him .
    Oh my God.
    I step back and end up dropping my bag and jacket in my utter shock.
    “Malcolm,” I gasp.
    “It’s been a while, Roxana.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “You and I have business to discuss, baby.”
    He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest. He’s dressed just like the man I’d known years ago—in a designer suit. This one is a black pinstripe with a crisp white shirt and a black silk tie. He’s clean shaven as usual. He brushes back his wavy, shoulder-length black hair and those piercing deep brown eyes of his sweep over me, eye-fucking me on the spot.
    I’m not really surprised. Malcolm never did hide his feelings towards me. He was very overt with it all. Public displays of affection. Grand gestures.
    “What business?” I ask, having absolutely no clue as to why he’s suddenly here, in my home, after all this time.
    He grins slyly and takes a step into my bedroom.
    I force myself not to react. That’s not the way to deal with a man like Malcolm. As soon as he smells fear, it’s all over. I need to maintain the upper hand here and act like his shocking presence in my home after all these years isn’t freaking me out beyond belief.
    But…shit…what the fuck is he doing here?
    Stop it. Just breathe. Breathe.
    I turn and snatch up my jacket. As I do, I catch his eye and I’m shocked to see him suddenly storming towards me.
    He closes the distance between us in seconds. He grabs my arm and fingers my tattoo. The sun and the thorns. My Neil tattoo. It represents us. He always used to call me his sunshine, hence the sun. And the thorns? Well, they stand for him—the president of Black Thorns.
    “Thorns?” Malcolm murmurs.
    He releases me roughly and demands, “Does this mean what I think it does?”
    “It’s not your business,” I tell him as I shrug on my jacket and then sling my gym bag over my shoulder.
    It’s as if I haven’t just spoken at all, as he barks at me, “You were with one of the club members? A Black Thorns club member? There’s a small heart in the tattoo design.”
    “Like I said; it’s not your business.”
    I try to move past him, but he steps into my path. His fingers reach out and fondle my hair. “Roxana, baby,” he says in that sickly sweet voice of his. “I would like a name, if you don’t mind.”
    “No.”
    “You know I can find out on my own anyway.”
    Argh. Dammit. Of course. “Neil Barron.”
    “Barron?” He thinks for a moment and then his eyes narrow dangerously. “Ax? You mean him? ”
    “You know him?”
    He laughs then, a creepy unhinged laugh. Leaning in to me, he whispers in my ear in an eerie low voice, “You let that biker trash defile you? Spread your legs for him, Roxana? Let him use this gorgeous body of yours, the way you let me? I thought we were always on the same page about them? About bikers? We hated them, Roxana.”
    I slam my hands into his chest, knocking him back. “Get your hands off me!”
    “He is trash!” he screams at me. “They all are!”
    “He’s different!”
    He stiffens then. He looks away, trying to get himself together. Malcolm rarely ever loses his cool like that.
    “My apologies,” he says, his tone completely calm all of a sudden. “I came here to do business. Seeing you again, though,