Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC 4)

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.