Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(50)

I stared at him. I was silent, letting those words wash over me. I traced his jaw with my fingertip, amazed at the fact this man, this beautiful man was saying these beautiful words to me. Those beautiful words also catapulted me back in time, back eleven years to memories that should be weathered and blurry with age, but instead they were clear as if they happened yesterday.



I was scared. Terrified. The headlights that illuminated our small living room meant he was home. That meant the red rage, the yelling, him hurting Mommy, saying bad words right in front of me. Sometimes saying those bad words to me.

“Okay, peanut,” Mom knelt in front of me, smiling that weird smile that didn’t seem quite right. “I need you to do your special trick and don’t say a word. Go to your place in your head. If you be really quiet, quiet as a mouse, it’ll all be okay. I promise.” She kept smiling that smile. “Just be my little quiet peanut for a little while longer, then Mommy will keep you safe. Can you do that, Lily?

I nodded, deciding to start being quiet as a mouse, right now because I could hear his key in the door.

Mommy did too because she kissed my head and stood, smoothing the pretty dress she was wearing underneath her apron.

I curled up as small as I could be on the sofa, my eyes glued to the pictures on the screen, trying not to make a sound, I even tried to make my breath silent. If I were quiet enough maybe I’d disappear, be invisible to him.



I escaped the memory before its venom could taint this beautiful moment.

“Be me,” I repeated.

“Yeah, flower,” he responded, not taking his eyes off me.

“What if I don’t know who that is?” I asked in a strangled whisper.

Asher’s hands clasped my neck firmly. “Then we’ll find out, together.”

His voice was so firm, so resolute, it made my stomach dip. Not in a good way.

“What if you find out you don’t like, who I find out I am?”

His eyes hardened. “Not f*ckin’ possible,” he declared.

I chewed my lip. Emotions like I was feeling, this, I didn’t know how to figure it out. I didn’t know how to figure out anything in my life. I could barely figure out my past, apart from the fact the last time someone looked out for me was when my abusive father had a heart attack in our kitchen, while my mother lay bloodied on the floor, after he caught her trying to leave. He would have killed her in that moment, even my nine-year-old eyes could have seen that. Something intervened to give her escape, freedom, a life. For eleven more years at least. That same thing decided to rob of her of that. Rob me of that.

Asher put firm pressure on my neck to direct my eyes back to him. “The partying, the drinking, that shit helping?” he asked softly.

I regarded him, blinking away my demons and letting the feeling of warmth spread through me at his gentle words, his soft voice.

“No,” I admitted. “But it helps delay it all. The feelings, the big sadness that I’m afraid I’ll get lost in. Makes me forget. Be someone else. Someone different. Someone better,” I told him truthfully.

There was a pause as Asher’s face turned blank. Then he sat up, resting on the wall and positioning me so I was straddling him.

“You need to listen to me now, flower,” he began seriously. “There’s no such thing as better. You are who you are. The fact you think that being someone else is better is not acceptable. I stand by what I said three years ago,” his eyes burned into mine, “I don’t know if there’s such a thing as perfect, but I’m looking at as close as I can get right here.” His hand squeezed my neck. “You aren’t perfect because you’re drop dead f*ckin’ gorgeous, your tight little body makes my cock harden in my jeans every time I see it. Not because you’re kind, caring, soft when you need to be, but your claws come out when you decide to be a smart ass. Perfect isn’t superficial shit it’s who you are in here,” he tapped my chest lightly, “and here,” he brushed a hair off my head.

“I’m not,” I argued. “I’m not beautiful. I know that. We both know that.”

Asher’s entire body jerked. Flinched. His eyes turned dark. “You seriously think that?” he asked in a hard voice.

I glanced down. “I know it,” I replied in a small voice.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Wish more than anything else I had the gift to bring back the dead. First, I’d get your mom back, then I’d get your father. Kill that piece of shit all over again. I’d make it slow. Death is too easy of an escape for what he did to this beautiful soul,” he said fiercely, his voice almost shaking with fury.

His finger moved underneath my chin, gently moving my eyes to meet his.

“Listen to me, flower. You are the most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Everything about you. Your hair that shines like the sun. The eyes that look like someone’s taken a piece of the ocean and put it in those beautiful things….” he paused, stroking my face. “Beauty is on the surface, flower. Temporary. Something that fades, withers. Being truly beautiful is when you’ve known suffering, fought demons at the depths of despair and managed to claw your way out. Managed to smile again. Managed to laugh, to live, to love. That’s eternal. That’s you.”

His certainty. His resolve, almost had me believing him. His words caused tears to trail down my cheeks. But a lifetime of my own certainty stopped me. I knew arguing was pointless, so I just leaned down and placed my mouth gently on his.