Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC 4)

“We’ve got a problem,” Wire stated flatly when he got to them. Wire’s face was pale. Asher’s stomach clenched. Fucker was never rattled. He sucked down energy drinks like they were water, and therefore was constantly twitching, eyes darting around whenever he wasn’t surrounded by his computers. He wasn’t twitching. His form was still. Shit was bad.

“We need to get to the Diamond Lounge, now,” he demanded urgently.

Asher stood immediately, as did Brock, their beers rattling on the bar as they thrust them down.

“Shit’s gone down. Fuck. They shot Lucky. Set the place on fire,” he told them quickly. “The cameras have been down and I didn’t think much of it. I’ve only just got them back on.”

Asher stepped forward, shaking him by the shoulders. “Lily’s in there,” he barked. “Is she okay?”

Wire’s expression turned his body to ice and fear clog his throat.

I coughed at the smoke invading my nostrils, my lungs, every part of me. My chest wheezed in response to the fumes strangling me. I ignored this. My bonds were loosening, I could feel the warm trickle of blood trailing down my fingers as my skin ripped away with the force I was rubbing it against the rough rope. I didn’t feel the pain that should have come with this.

“You can do this,” I gritted out, choking on the gathering smoke.

I could feel the heat of the approaching flames that were engulfing the building. I’d never felt anything so intense in my life. It felt like my body would burst into flames at any moment. My eyes zeroed in on Lucky’s body, on the fire dancing around it. They moved to the small opening at the entrance to the building. Smoke distorted my vision, but I hoped that opening stayed like that. It had to. Otherwise, I’d have no chance.

I wasn’t surrendering to the growing feeling I was going to die. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Asher’s face filled my vision for a moment. His sharp jaw, his deep chocolate eyes.

I coughed again and my eyes focused back on the flames. A sharp twang of pain radiated up my arm as I got my wrist free. I yanked the other free and fell forward, painfully landing on my knees and wrists. I ignored the pain and scrambled around to unfasten the rope at my ankles. The heat was more intense now, the smoke made it nearly impossible to see, to breathe. I knew I would pass out from smoke inhalation before the flames charred my body, especially with my already weakened lungs. My shaking and bleeding hands ripped off my cardigan and fastened it on top of my mouth. It wouldn’t do much, delay my death from suffocation for a few moments, minutes if I was lucky. I scrambled up as my legs were released and stumbled off the stage to where Lucky’s body lay.

I wouldn’t let him be turned to ashes. I wouldn’t leave him.

My hands hooked under his armpits, and I wrenched with all of my strength to drag him toward the opening. It looked miles away, especially with the flames moving closer at terrifying speed. I felt like the skin was melting off my body. My arms screamed, and my lungs felt useless as I coughed into the fabric at my mouth. I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to make it. I wasn’t strong enough.

“You can do this, peanut,” my mom’s voice whispered in my ear. “You’re so much stronger than you know. I’m not ready to see you again, not yet. You can do this, baby.”

With every inch of my body telling me I wasn’t going to do this, my mind reassured me I could. It urged me forward, renewed my strength to drag Lucky. Gave me the ability to suck what little air remained, just enough for me to chase away the black spots dancing at my vision.

My body sagged against the door and I let Lucky’s body go, supporting him with one hand while the other fastened on the doorknob. I gritted my teeth at the blinding pain that erupted in my palm as the piping hot steel singed my skin. I ignored this and turned the handle, praying for it to open. I fell onto the ground as the door moved and cool air rushed at me. I sucked in the air greedily, choking on the cleanness of it as my polluted lungs struggled to expel the poison clogging them.

I hooked my hands under Lucky’s body once more, using the last of my strength, of my breath to drag us onto the concrete, a safe distance from the flames. I collapsed against the asphalt as my body struggled to get a proper breath. My chest wheezed, and the invisible hand fastened around my throat.

I heard a roar. I didn’t take much notice of it, thinking it was in my own ears, my body’s response to dwindling oxygen. I didn’t think it might be Harley pipes.