Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC 4)

I scrambled to find my things while I scrolled through my phone with blurry eyes.

“Whoever has the audacity to call me at this hour is going to have a size nine stiletto embedded in their shin bone,” a cranky voice hissed into the phone.

“Bex,” I whispered through my tears. “I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?” she demanded, instantly alert.

“At the Sons of Templar compound in Amber,” I choked.

There was a pause. “Fuck,” she finally muttered. “Do I need my Glock? I don’t care if they’re an outlaw motorcycle gang and all around bad ass motherfuckers, I’ll pop a cap in all their tight asses if they hurt you,” she said into the phone, anger saturating her tone.

“No, no one hurt me. I just need out. And clothes,” I added cringing at the thought of leaving here in Asher’s tee. Of being any more exposed than I already felt.

There was another pause, another curse. “Sit tight honey, I’ll be there in ten.”

“Okay,” I whispered and rang off.

I focused on breathing, on convincing myself that the struggle to get air was mental, not physical. That the reason for it was my mind’s inability to handle unexpected situations. My weakness.

Bex was there in twenty, no matter the fact, it was over half an hour to our place in Tasman Springs.

All I had wanted to do was curl up in Asher’s bed, hiding from the world and that horrible woman’s words until Bex came. The reason I didn’t was twofold. Bex didn’t know her way around the clubhouse, and I didn’t want her to have to navigate it. I didn’t trust her not to bring and brandish her gun, causing all sorts of drama to add to my mortification. Plus, I couldn’t curl up in Asher’s bed, the bed I’d lost my virginity in. The bed my shyness fell away in, and I spoke in soft whispers to the man I’d only just met, told him more than I had anyone. I couldn’t lie in the bed that I’d fallen a little bit in love with Asher in. Or a lot in love.

So I sat with my back pressed against the door, my head on my knees, willing myself not to cry. Reminding myself that the heaviness in my chest wasn’t the work of asthma, but of my mind. That my mind was responsible for me feeling like no air could make it into my lungs. I pushed off reluctantly when my phone pinged alerting Bex’s arrival.

I took a deep breath.

“You can do this,” I muttered to myself.

I opened the door, holding my shoes and creeping down the deserted hallway. I inwardly cringed at the fact I was doing this, the walk of shame. I didn’t feel shame over what I did, moreover who I was. I wished I were someone different. Someone stronger. Someone who could have sparred right back with that woman, someone who could have let those words roll right off and slide back into bed and wait for Asher, but I wasn’t. Those words pierced deep and punctured every one of my insecurities.

Though luck hadn’t been with me before, it seemed to be now as I slowly walked into the wide common area of the compound. I was almost home. I could see Bex leaning against her car, pushing her sunglasses off her head and squinting into the building.

I scurried to meet her.

My scurrying was hampered by the fact I slammed right into a brick wall.

I looked up.

No, not a brick wall, just a wall of human muscle. The man in front of me, one I recognized, and even though he was the one that intimated me the least, my heart still pounded out of my chest.

I stepped back quickly, my eyes wide.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you, I was just leaving,” I said quickly, my eyes darting anywhere but his.

I watched him look me up and down, and then his features turned stormy. I cringed that I was the reason his carefree face was contorted in such a way.

“Lily, you came out of Asher’s room,” Lucky observed in a hard voice.

My already wide eyes gaped. He knew me? Of course he knew me, he was at Gwen’s last night, but I hadn’t realized he’d remember me, though. But he did. And he saw me in Asher’s tee, clutching my shoes and trying to gather my dignity. I inwardly cringed and felt my face flame.

I tried to step around him. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” I whispered brokenly and desperately.

His body stepped in my path.

I looked at him through my lashes, trying not to cry.

Be strong, Lily.

“Stupid fuck,” he bit out, his humor still absent.

“Wha-what?” I stuttered, unsure of how to handle the anger directed at me.

His eyes softened slightly as if he realized the effect his tone was having. “Asher. He’s a stupid fuck. Did he hurt you?” he clipped, looking at my state of undress in distaste.