Beyond the Horizon (The Sons of Templar MC Book 4) Read online

  “You okay today, flower?” he asked with obvious concern, his large hand moving to my chest, letting it rise and fall with my breath.

  I glanced down at how large and powerful it looked against my chest and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m fine.”

  He gave me a look, his jaw hard and eyes plagued with worry, the playfulness of before long gone.

  “It takes me a few days to get over the shock of it all, but physically, I’m fine,” I reassured him, placing my hand on top of his.

  He searched my eyes, obviously looking for a lie. He nodded then kissed my head.

  “I don’t want you hiding shit like that from me anymore. You’re feeling anything out of the ordinary, you tell me right away,” he commanded.

  I nodded. It was the only way to get him off my case, I knew.

  “Lily, I mean it. Anything, we’re going to the hospital,” he continued.

  I wanted to roll my eyes. I also wanted to embrace the warm feeling that seemed to settle in my broken soul and start to jostle the broken pieces back together. The feeling of him taking care of me. Worrying about me. Caring about me.

  I was lost in thought I didn’t notice he was staring at me expectantly, obviously waiting for a verbal response.

  “Yes, Asher, I promise,” I said quietly.

  “Good,” he replied simply, stroking my neck. “I don’t like that shit,” he muttered. “A girl like you shouldn’t struggle with something as simple as breathing, the world’s already taken enough from you. Trying to steal your ability to exist? To breathe easy? That shit’s not okay.” He played with a tendril of my hair. “I don’t want you breathless when you deserve to have every breath on this earth easy,” he muttered.

  I stared at him. “If you don’t want me breathless then you might need to remove yourself from my immediate vicinity,” I half whispered. “Or make that my life. You steal my breath when you say things like that, but in a good way. In the best way,” I told him, surprising myself with my honesty. My shield was lying in tatters at my feet, and I stared at him with nothing protecting me. I trusted him not to hurt me.

  His entire frame jolted and his face went blank. I waited for a couple of seconds for him to answer, but he stayed silent, his eyes moving over every inch of my face like he was committing them to memory. The intensity in his gaze told me my words had just changed things, shifted them. A large part of me did a happy dance at this, but a smaller, more powerful part urged me to run, rebuild that shield as quickly as possible.

  “Can I cook our breakfast now?” I asked with fake impatience, trying to chase away both parts for now. Just live in the moment.

  “I’ll allow it,” he said dryly. “Only if you tell me what I can do to help,” he added, completely surprising me.

  My eyes bulged slightly. “You, Asher, manly biker type, want to help cook breakfast?” I clarified.

  He pretended to look offended. “Don’t look so surprised, Lily, I’m not a man to sit on my ass and let my woman run after me. Especially after shit last night.” He sounded serious on the end. Though, he stepped forward to squeeze my ass. “And, being on this side of the counter means I’m within grabbing distance if I feel like it.” He winked.

  Winked! I was enjoying playful Asher. “You’re like this, and you haven’t even had coffee,” I pointed out in amazement.

  Asher gave me a hungry look, yanking my body to his. “Who needs coffee when I’ve got you to get me out of bed?” he said seriously.

  Before I could melt in a puddle at his feet, Bex came in to save the day.

  “Seriously. If I put a hidden webcam in here I could make thousands off the two of you,” she grumbled as she padded into the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

  “Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” I called from Asher’s arms, grinning.

  Bex turned to me, sipping from her coffee mug. When her eyes caught mine, something in them turned sad, though she smiled. It was quickly masked.

  “If I have to endure PDA from two beautiful people, you’ve got to tell me you’re cooking me breakfast, too,” she said as she sat herself on a barstool.

  I gently pulled out of Asher’s arms and put the pan back on the stove.

  For the first time in weeks, no months, I was actually looking forward to the day ahead of me.

  “Holy Hell in a handbasket,” Gwen yelled from across the room when Asher and I walked into the clubhouse.

  I felt self-conscious about my attire as I hadn’t been prepared for a club party when leaving the house today. I was wearing high-waisted, form-fitting, light denim jeans, a white boyfriend shirt and strappy maroon heels. My hair was piled atop my head and I wore little makeup.

  “I wish you’d let me go home and change before we came here,” I hissed in his ear on our approach.

  Gwen was glam as usual. Even from across the room I could spy her strappy electric blue Manolos. The woman had a kid for chrissakes, two of them!

  “You’re beautiful,” he replied firmly. “And if I’d let you go home you wouldn’t have come,” he added.

  I was silent. He had me there. Gwen’s eyes weren’t focused on my outfit, they were glued to our intertwined hands as we approached the sofa where she was cradling her little boy, Knox. Cade was at her side, a sleeping Belle draped over his chest. He regarded us with his normal blank badass stare. His badassness was not hampered by the tender hand he had placed around his daughter’s small body, nor the other one around his wife. That was not an easy feat.

  I swallowed, trying to calm the fear that had choked me when we’d pulled up to the compound. That had turned me mute when Asher had walked us through the outside where people had been milling and shouting greetings to each other. I had seen many of the men before, but not in such large numbers, and definitely not on their biker turf. It was safe to say my shyness was back with a vengeance. It had all but disappeared after a day with Asher. He’d taken me on a ride, somehow knowing after the strangling claustrophobic feeling of last night I needed openness, fresh air, to feel alive. I was already feeling touched by death, my attack had me feeling caressed by it. Asher, his mere presence, his body against mine, it chased away the reaper. I’d fallen even deeper in love with him. That was until his ride finished at a familiar brick building. One that once held excitement and the promise of future. Now, it only held the ghost of the life before.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked flatly after the roar of the Harley had silenced, and Asher had gotten off his bike.

  He stared at me, I hadn’t moved from my seat, only yanked my helmet off so I could speak and not look like a dork.

  “You’re going in, to sign up for your classes again,” he stated, crossing his arms.

  I stared at him. He didn’t offer further explanation, so I stared some more my serenity quickly replaced by cold anger, one that masked the mild panic and despair that was simmering beneath my façade.

  “Do we need to take you to the hospital?” I asked seriously.

  Asher’s brows furrowed together. “Not sure I get that statement, flower.”

  I sat a little straighter, wanting to get up to even up our stances, but not wanting to look like I was conceding one bit.

  “I’m assuming you’re suffering from some disease that messes with your brain function, primarily thinking you have the right to take me here and try and dictate any part of my life,” I hissed with a venom I didn’t know I was capable of.

  Asher didn’t flinch nor change his expression in the face of my anger, if anything, his eyes softened slightly and he stepped forward, arm extended. I gave him a look that warned for the fate of said arm if he used it to touch me. Obviously, I wasn’t good at the threat of dismemberment because his rough hand caressed my cheek.

  “You need to do this, Lily,” he told me quietly, eyes not leaving mine.

  I jutted my chin out. “And you know what I need better than I do?” I retorted.

  He paused. “I’d like to think I know you better than you know yourself,�
� he began. “But, that’s not true. I look forward to knowing every inch of you. You know yourself, what you need, you’re just scared of it. I’m in a better position to show it to you, to give you the opportunity to give yourself what you need.” He nodded to the building. “You need to go back to college, babe, back to your future, your life. You need to start living it. Not running from it,” he said sagely.

  I refused to look away from him. “I’m not running from anything,” I lied.

  His face turned sad and the hand at my cheek tightened slightly. “Yeah, babe, you are. You’re sprinting. You’re breathless, running for your life. You need to realize it’s gonna catch you, and it’s not gonna be the end.”

  I blinked at him. He saw so much more than I thought anyone did. Than even I did. My anger fell away quickly, the energy of holding it up was something I couldn’t keep up, when I was too busy trying to hold myself together.

  “You don’t know that,” I whispered. “What it’ll feel like when it catches me. I’m not strong enough to take it. It’ll bowl me over, I won’t be strong enough to get back up,” I choked out.

  Asher stepped forward and lifted me completely off the bike, encircling me in his arms, holding me in the air for a moment before settling me on the ground. He didn’t let me go, nor did he release me from his intense gaze.

  “It might,” he agreed. “But I’ll be here to pick you back up, make sure you can fly again. Not that you need me. You’re strong enough,” he said decisively.

  I shook my head, both to disagree and to shake off the tears. “I’m not,” I argued softly.

  “Strength comes in lots of different forms, Lily. It doesn’t make you weak if you let life knock you down. It makes you strong that you can stay standing for this long,” he told me. “I know what it’s like to run, flower. To believe if you change who you are it might mean that it won’t recognize you, that you won’t feel the extent of the loss the old you endured,” he spoke quietly, with something underneath his raspy words. Something I recognized. Sorrow. “Trust me, I know it doesn’t end well. You can’t hide from yourself. Can’t disguise yourself from grief….” he paused, a faraway look in his eyes. He focused on me. “I lost my little brother when I was fifteen. He was two years younger, but we were close. All we had was each other. Our dad was too drunk to notice us half the time, and our mom ran out when we were young.” He sucked in a breath. “We were in a car wreck. I walked away. He didn’t,” he stated flatly.

  I had my hand over my mouth, my eyes on Asher. I felt his pain. Beneath the words was the sorrow that I knew because my own grief recognized it.

  “I didn’t want to believe it,” he continued hoarsely. “That it even happened. That I lost my best friend….” he paused. “Then I realized it did happen, he was never coming back. Went down a dark road. Darker than the blackest midnight. Turned into someone who I didn’t recognize, didn’t respect. Thought that was the way to get out from under it. The way to survive,” his clear eyes wouldn’t let me go. “It was the way to die, flower. I realized that. Dragged myself out from under that shit. Found new brothers. Found a new family. Met that shit I’d been running from. I faced what I thought would kill me. I lived.” He stroked my face. “I’m not gonna let that happen to you. Let you know the blackest midnight. Let you venture any further into that shit. I’m not gonna let my flower wilt. I watched you amble down that road I’m so familiar with for long enough. I’m done watching.” He nodded to the building once more. “So it starts with this, you going back to where you belong. We’ll figure the other stuff out. First, you need to stop running. I’m gonna be here, every step of the way,” he promised.

  I stared at him, tears running unbidden down my cheeks. I didn’t even notice the world around us. There wasn’t a world around us right now.

  “What was his name?” I whispered finally.

  Pain, pure agony that my kindred soul recognized swam at the depths of his eyes.

  “Benjamin,” he replied softly with a sad smile.

  “Does it ever stop hurting to say his name? To remember his face?” I choked out.

  Asher’s hand tightened on my neck. “No,” he said slowly. “But you get stronger, learn how to recognize that you can handle the hurt, that it won’t kill you.”

  I chewed my lip. I wasn’t strong. I couldn’t even handle public speaking, crowds, meeting new people. How could I ever be strong enough to live with this pain?

  Asher’s hand went under my chin to make me meet his eyes once more. “You’re strong,” he declared, reading my mind. “I know you spend your life doubting that, but I’m standing right here in awe of the strength that my little flower has without even recognizing it,” he promised. “Stop running, babe. You can handle it.”

  I stared at him for a long moment, then glanced at the building in front of us. I turned my head back to him.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Asher smiled again, he bent to kiss my nose gently before releasing me, moving his hand firmly to clasp mine. And we walked in together, me trying to lift my feet with the weight of grief that had been like a dumbbell for weeks. It wasn’t any lighter, but Asher was right, my ability to carry it around had seemed to increase. I was stronger. Only a little, but it was enough to make a difference.

  “You and Asher? You’re a thing?” Gwen half squealed when we made it to them. “You’re a sly little minx.” She winked at me with a smile. “Of course, we all knew he had eyes for you.” She winked again.

  I felt myself go red with embarrassment. Asher pulled me into his body as if he could sense me crawling back into my shell. He kissed my hair.

  Gwen watched with a huge smile. “Oh, holy shit balls, if that isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is,” she exclaimed.

  “Gwen, language,” Cade clipped, his eyes twinkling but his tone scolding. His eyes pointedly resting on his daughter’s head.

  Gwen’s eyes darted to her husband’s. She rolled them. “Seriously? The man with the mouth of well ... a biker is chastising me for cursing in a decidedly curse-worthy situation? Belle didn’t even hear,” she told him firmly.

  As if on cue, a little dark head popped up. “Shit balls,” she parroted in her cute little toddler voice, her beautiful eyes glued on her father. Cade gave Gwen a pointed look then shook his head.

  We were all silent for a moment then I burst out laughing. Like, proper, actual laughing. When I stopped, I saw Gwen was wiping a fake tear from the side of her eye, Cade even had a small smile. I glanced up at Asher to see his face devoid of any kind of humor. Instead, he was staring at me with blazing eyes. I didn’t have time to inspect it because Gwen pushed off the sofa, the bundle in her hands being transferred to her husband who expertly jostled Belle so he could cradle Kingston in his huge arms. I would be lying if I said my ovaries didn’t pulse just a little at that sight.

  “This occasion, as with most occasions in life, calls for a cocktail,” she declared, her twinkling eyes on me. “You can help me make them,” she decided, snatching my hand and yanking me out of Asher’s arms.

  Before I had any chance to say anything, I was being dragged across the clubroom to the bar in the corner. I looked over my shoulder at Asher, who was grinning with his arms crossed, shook his head. I surprised myself by grinning back.

  “Okay, so I’m not technically allowed to drink cocktails since I’m breastfeeding,” Gwen scrunched up her nose as she pushed a prospect out of the way and bustled behind the bar. “But I’ve pumped for the night so I should be able to have one,” she informed me, and the prospect went pale. She glanced over at him. “Dude, if you’re going to patch into the Sons you’re going to have to deal with a lot more scarier things than my breast milk,” she informed him with a straight face.

  He blanched even further, his panicked eyes darting between us before making his escape. Gwen grinned as soon as his back was turned. I let out another little laugh. The happiness took me by surprise. Sorrow still tainted it, and I was aware
of the slight pressure in my chest at being in an uncomfortable environment. But Asher was right, I was stronger.

  Gwen started to mix drinks, unearthing two cocktail glasses. It was pretty comical seeing the bar at a biker clubhouse equipped with cocktail making implements, but I didn’t think the Sons were worried about losing their bad ass reputation. It was firmly in place.

  “So,” she said, turning serious. “You and Asher. That’s new?”

  I sat down on the stool in front of the bar. “Um … kind of?” My voice rose up at the end, betraying me.

  Gwen’s eyes narrowed, and she placed the bottle in her hand down on the bar to give me her full attention.

  “Kind of?” she repeated with a raised brow.

  My eyes darted back to where Asher was sitting with Cade and a couple of other men I didn’t recognize. He was playing with Belle. Cue womb squeeze.

  Fingers clicked in front of my face.

  “Lily. Do not go into a fugue state perving at your man. I need details,” she commanded.

  I focused my eyes back on her. “Well, we may have had a ... thing three years ago,” I explained slowly.

  Gwen gave me a silent look to urge me to explain.

  I chewed my lip. I didn’t talk to anyone about this. I had only told Bex, I hadn’t even told Mom. Now I wished I had. Asked for her advice. Somehow that thought had it all tumbling out right here in the clubhouse where anyone could overhear. And I didn’t care.

  When the last word had tumbled out of my mouth, Gwen was staring at me with her mouth open. She closed it abruptly.

  “You’ve always got to watch the quiet ones,” she muttered to herself.

  She handed me a cocktail glass filled with amber liquid. I thought of Asher’s words the previous night about how I was running. About how alcohol helped me do that. I took a sip. I may have been stronger, but I wasn’t ready to feel it all yet. The full extent of it. To go back to the old Lily. I needed the new Lily right now. I wouldn’t make it through the night without her, not with more men and women arriving at the clubhouse as Gwen and I spoke. The weight in my chest intensified as I entertained the prospect of having to face the blonde woman again.