Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(29)

Bex’s face was a mask of grief, a mirror of mine. She pushed up off her stool and rounded the counter to take me in her arms.

“Fuck, Lils, we’ll get through this, promise. I won’t let you lose yourself,” she whispered into my hair.

In that moment, I clung to my best friend like she was my lifeline. Maybe she was. I tried not to think about the other raft in the sea of grief I was floating in. The one named Asher.





Asher: Thinking of you, flower.



A small smile tickled the edge of my mouth as I re-read the text I’d gotten shortly after lunch. I hadn’t even been without him for twenty-four hours, and I yearned for his touch. It was as if the three years of distance had been three minutes. As if I hadn’t just broken up with my “kind of” boyfriend that morning.



Me: It’s been four hours. How can you be thinking of me already? I’m sure you’ve got much more important things to think about, like slinging back hooch and shooting guns.



I bit my lip, re-reading what I had typed. I erased it.



Me: I’m thinking about you, too.



I replied simply. He hadn’t written anything back; he was giving me space like I’d asked. I was grateful for it.

“Lil, you deserve a drink. Hell, I think it’s medically necessary,” Bex informed me, holding out a bottle. “I know you’re not a drinker, and that you haven’t touched a drop in three years. Haven’t had fun in three years. Not that I’m suggesting any of this is going to be fun, but alcohol makes you think it is, for a while anyway,” she told me sagely.

It was late afternoon. We had done exactly nothing. Ate french toast. Sat on our sofa and watched crappy reality television. Joked. Talked about Mom. Told funny stories.

It was weird. Sitting on the sofa in my PJs, with nothing to do, nowhere to be. I’d temporarily dropped out of college to work enough to support Mom, and have enough time to take care of her. My job at the bar had given me a few paid days off. It might have been a dive, but my boss was pretty awesome, and she’d loved Mom.

So I had nothing. No hospital to visit. No research to do for last minute cures. No bills to pour over—apparently medical bills died with the patient—apart from the usual.

My mom always shined bright. Shined beautiful. When I was around her, I was bathed in that light too. I was intoxicated, like everyone, by her zest for life. It was contagious. She was brilliant. The ying to my yang. The only reason I felt okay about being me, about my shyness, was because I had her to balance me out. To tell me that who I was, was exactly who I was meant to be. Without her, I was in danger of drifting away from who I’m meant to be. Or losing it altogether. Who was I without my ying? This was all too hard. The bottle Becky presented me with, offered the easy solution—oblivion.





I jerked awake, wiping drool from the side of my mouth.

So attractive.

I blearily regarded where I was.

Sofa.

Why was I on the sofa? My eyes touched an empty bottle of J?germeister. Oh yeah, that’s why. Might explain the headache too. The headache was worsened by the knocking at the door. It wasn’t loud, but it seemed to echo off my skull.

“Whoever that is, you shoot them. Shoot them right in their hand, so they can’t inflict this horror on anyone else,” Bex mumbled from her spot on the floor.

I squinted at her, feeling more than a little fuzzy, I vaguely wondered why she was on the floor when her room and her bed were meters away. After a second, I got up, deciding to save the person on the other side of the door from getting maimed by a sleep zombie Bex.

I flinched at the bright light that assaulted me when I opened the door, and it took a second for the people on the other side to come into focus. I blinked rapidly.

“I told you it was too early,” Amy hissed knowingly at Gwen, who was gazing at me with a soft look on her pretty face.

She ignored Amy. “Lily, sweetheart. I’m sorry, we can come back.” She motioned to turn around.

“Or,” Amy cut in, “we can take you out for a nice greasy breakfast with a Bloody Mary on the side, it’ll fix you right up.”

“You had me at Bloody Mary,” I heard Bex yell from somewhere behind me.

I flinched at the sound, too loud.

Amy grinned. “It’s settled then.” She pushed past my zombie form to make her way into my apartment.

My hungover brain realized I should have been embarrassed at these glamorous women seeing my far from glamorous home. Being in this neighborhood and looking at the crumbling paint covered by posters, the faded carpet disguised with colorful rugs, the ancient appliances. I’d been to their place many times. It looked like the pages of a magazine, mirrored the images in my head of what I imagined my life might be like one day. Seeing Amy standing in the middle of my living room clutching a bag that cost the same as three months’ rent had me cringing. And realizing my life might never get better than this.

She didn’t seem ruffled. “Point me in the direction of your room, Lily. I’ll get you an outfit together. Gwen will make you coffee.” She directed a pointed glance at Gwen, who was still standing in the doorway.

I stood silent, still bathing in the shame that had begun to wash over me. And trying not to vomit as my hangover intensified.