Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(78)

My heart beat furiously, and my eyes were glued to the door of my apartment, willing it to open. I struggled to contain my panic, my airway cut off both from the pressure of his hand and the terror creeping up my throat.

“Or maybe they won’t,” the voice continued slowly. “Maybe that * will keep them entertained. It doesn’t mean that one day when they’re not expecting it, we’ll take what we are owed.” The hand moved to my breast, and I cried out, the sound silenced by the pressure at my neck. “Maybe we’ll just take it now,” the voice mused.

“Dude, we gotta go,” another figure emerged from the darkness.

The hand at my throat loosened and the head moved. “We’ll go when I say we go,” he snapped.

His distraction gave me the opportunity to bring my knee up to connect with his crotch. I felt satisfied with the grunt of pain he emitted, and the fact he doubled over enough for me to dart out of his hold.

I didn’t hesitate. “Asher,” I screamed with my husky voice, running past the stationary second form. I heard muttered curses from behind me as my apartment door opened.

“Asher,” I screamed again as my run across the parking lot seemed to take forever.

“Lily,” I heard his bellow.

The screeching of tires had me looking over my shoulder to watch a black car zoom out of the lot. Because I was looking one way and running another, I smacked into something, hard. Luckily that something was warm and smelled musky and safe. Hands reached out to steady me.

“Flower,” Asher said urgently.

“A-sh-ash,” I wheezed, clutching his shoulders. A fist tightened around my lungs, the terror and the exertion of my short fight and run already catching up on me. This time, it wasn’t anxiety or fear strangling me. This was real, my body’s response to the incident moments before.

“Lily, your inhaler, where is it?” he demanded sharply, immediately registering the reason for my strangled breathing.

I was frozen for a split second, then out of instinct, I reached for my bag on my shoulder. My panic intensified when the realization hit that I must have dropped it in the struggle. I pointed at my car while the wheezing got worse.

Calm. I told myself. You’re safe. Asher means safe.

“What’s going on … shit Lily, are you okay?” a familiar and concerned voice asked with urgency mirroring Asher’s.

“Get her bag from the car, now,” Asher demanded, lifting me into his arms. The dim light illuminated his attractive face, tight with concern. “You’ve got more inside, right?” he asked while striding with apparent ease up the stairs to my apartment.

I nodded. “Totally soap opera,” I wheezed between strangled breaths. I would’ve laughed if I had the ability. And wasn’t scared out of my wits.

“What?” Asher frowned down at me.

I didn’t have time to reply.

“Lily! Oh my God is she okay?” A pale looking Bex leaned against the door, regarding us in horror.

“Get her inhaler, now,” Asher barked at her, and she scrambled to comply.

“I’m fi-fine, it’s n-not bad,” I tried in vain to reassure him.

He frowned down at me once more and settled on the sofa, positioning me so I was on his lap.

Bex thrust my inhaler at me, and I self-consciously puffed on it, aware of the many sets of eyes focused on me at that moment. As my breathing calmed, I felt Asher’s hand on my chest relax, though his body stayed tight and his hand didn’t move.

“Okay, I had a f*ckin’ internal struggle the entire way back in here,” Lucky said, bursting into the room, his attractive face worried. “I know handbags are like a chick’s sacred space, and no man should venture in without express permission, but it seemed like life or death. Someone tell me what the f*ck I’m looking for in here before my hand gets bitten off by some handbag urchin hiding in the depths of this colossal thing,” he pleaded with his head bent, riffling through my bag.

His head snapped up, and he focused on me, on what was in my hand and realization dawned.

I couldn’t help the giggle that burst out of me at his face, and the fact he was holding my baby pink tote, one tattooed hand still elbow deep. When he saw where my eyes were focused, the muscled arm immediately retreated. A tampon came attached to that muscled arm, he looked down in horror and quickly dropped it. He gingerly held the bag by its handles, holding it slightly away from his body like it was an undetonated bomb. This made me laugh even more.

“Is she okay? Are there drugs in that? If so, I’ll take a toke when you’re done,” Lucky deadpanned, nodding to the bag.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asher shake his head and Bex rolled her eyes from her spot in front of me. When my laughter finally faded out, the seriousness of what had just happened crept back in.

Asher lightly touched my chin so I was focused on him. Despite everything, I drank in every aspect of his features, as if we’d been separated for months. I was aching for my fix. For his lips on mine. His body on mine. My need almost outweighed everything else around us. Almost.

“What was that? Why are you guys here?” I asked before he could go all alpha and demand to know if I was unharmed and untraumatized. I was sitting on his knee close enough for him to see no immediate bloody bullet wounds.

His face searched mine, resting on my mouth for a moment. “Want to tell me if you’re okay first, flower? Then we’ll get into explanations. On both sides,” he added ominously.