Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(72)

“You’re slurring your words,” he pointed out, sounding exasperated.

“I’ve had a couple of wines,” I replied. It was the truth. A couple of wines and a couple more cocktails.

“Okay, well, I’m standing outside your apartment, which is silent as a crypt,” he half growled.

Shit. He had me there. I didn’t exactly expect to outsmart him, but I hadn’t exactly expected to be talking to him, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to screen his call. Despite being caught out, a small feeling of elation bubbled in my stomach. He was back. At my apartment. I’d see him. I glanced down at my attire. Me seeing him meant he’d see me. I was wearing a tight, body con dress that clung to every bit of my curveless body. My makeup and hair was used to disguise the toll grief had taken on me. To hide me from myself. Not recognizing myself when I looked in the mirror was a good thing. But I felt ashamed. Looking into Asher’s eyes was like looking into the truest mirror that showed me without the trappings I used to run from myself. I couldn’t see myself right now. Not after this afternoon.

“What is going on in there? People need to pee, like badly,” the girl in front of me pounded on the stall which hadn’t opened for the entire time we’d been in there.

I frowned at the door, something starting at the pit of my stomach. Something that wasn’t connected to social anxiety and crowds. Something I had trouble inspecting under the cloud of drunkenness I was struggling to escape.

“Lily, where are you?” Asher demanded, his voice sharp.

My back straightened with irritation. “Why do you want to know?”

There was a loaded pause, even on the other end of a phone call after more than a couple of wines, I could feel it. His intensity.

“Seriously, Lily? Could you stop with this shit? I want to know because you’re mine. Because I want to see you. Because I haven’t seen you four days and I want to touch you, taste you. At this moment, though, I want to make sure you’re not about to be f*ckin’ groped at some f*ckin’ club,” he bit out.

The girl in front of me went into the only stall that seemed to be working. Again, I frowned at the door that hadn’t opened since I had gotten in here. I bent down, not too keen on getting any closer to the grime and who knows what on the sticky floor, but needing too at the same time.

“Lily?” Asher snapped in my ear, sounding concerned.

“Shhh,” I commanded, bending enough so I could see underneath the stall. So I could see the shoes I’d helped Bex pick out tonight underneath. They were laying at a weird angle. Something sank in my stomach, I shot straight up.

“Bex!” I pounded on the door urgently.

“Flower, tell me what’s going on,” Asher asked, his tone hard.

I ignored this, my stomach curdling at the silence beyond the door.

“Bex! Open the door, now,” I yelled, not caring that the other women in the stall were staring at me.

Again, nothing.

“Lily,” Asher repeated urgently.

“How do you pick a bathroom lock?” I asked him, staring at the door in desperation.

“Why do you want to know that? Are you okay?” his voice was alert.

“That’s not an answer,” I snapped with impatience, looking behind me for some help. I didn’t think the women behind me would be much help, considering they looked worse than I did. Ditto with anyone working in this bar, and even if they would help, I’d have to wade through the crowded dance floor.

“I’ll have to kick it in,” I whispered to myself.

“Jesus, kick what in? Where the f*ck are you, Lily? Tell me so I can help,” Asher’s voice turned soft at the end, I could tell he was trying to mask the glimmer of panic in his voice.

I ignored him again, pushing at the door with my shoulder. It looked flimsy and moved slightly even with the small amount of pressure I was exerting. Maybe my laughable strength would be enough to get me in.

“Bex, I’m coming in,” I yelled again, hoping I wouldn’t give her a head injury if I did by some miracle get the door open.

The silence at the other side of the door gave me the strength I didn’t think I had. I slammed against the door with all my might, stumbling slightly as it gave way, swinging on its hinges. It took me a moment to focus on what I saw.

“Oh my God,” I whispered in horror. “No, no, no,” I chanted, kneeling beside Bex’s slumped body.

“Lily!” Asher shouted, but my phone tumbled out of my hand as my shaking fingers went to the needle at Bex’s arm.

“No. Bex, wake up,” I commanded, shaking her pale body with panic.

A thin film of sweat was covering her face, her lips tinged with blue.

“Someone call an ambulance,” I screamed at the crowd gathering behind me, my phone smashed on the floor, forgotten.

I clutched my best friend. “Please wake up, please be okay,” I chanted at her limp body.





I clutched the coffee cup, taking sips of the awful brew out of necessity more than anything else. I had been shocked sober at what I’d seen in that bathroom stall, at having to see paramedics struggle to revive what looked like the corpse of my friend.

“We’ve got a weak pulse,” had been the only thing that stopped me from collapsing into hysterics.