Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC #4)(8)

“Sunset and yellow, Mom,” I promised.



So, here we were. In a cemetery, at dusk, wearing bright yellow dresses. Mom was right, Bex wore her signature combat boots and heavy kohl eyeliner, her black hair messed in choppy layers, the dipped purple ends brushing her shoulders. She looked completely and utterly her.

Me, not so much. I didn’t even know how to be me, let alone create a look that represented who I was. My yellow dress used to be snug on me, tight at the waist and ballooning out into a fifties style skirt, kissing my knees. Now, it was loose, my long hair lay flat around my shoulders. The tan I normally had to complement it was long gone, considering I spent my days in a hospital room, and my nights in a bar. But I wore it, even though the color I identified most with was black. I got why people wore it. So their outsides matched their insides. To cloak the despair.

People had started arriving, and I had to commence my duties as the daughter, greeting old friends, acquaintances and fans of my mom’s work. We didn’t have family. She had a lot of friends, though. My mom was likable, a ball of light. People radiated toward her. People that by chance did not find black appropriate for a funeral either. Most of them were hippies like Mom, so a lot of flowing skirts and bright colors decorated the graveyard. It was kind of poetic and beautiful. Well, it would have been if I hadn’t been drowning under the weight of my grief.

The clearing of the priest’s throat had me stop my conversation with my mom’s artist friends and turn my attention to him. My gaze flickered to the coffin, one that I’d avoided looking at. Covered in flowers, letters and drawings it looked like something my mom would’ve loved. I wanted to feel warm about that, about the fact my mom would have loved every part of this. I couldn’t. My mom would have loved this—past tense—she can’t love it. Because she was dead, right in that beautifully disguised coffin. I averted my gaze, feeling the pins and needles stronger now. Bex squeezed my hand. Aiden took my other. I focused on the priest.

“Now, I understand Faith’s daughter, Lily is going to say a few words,” he declared, after his monolog.

Both Bex and Aiden jolted beside me, I knew they were surprised. They both knew I avoided public speaking as if my life depended on it. Knew the depths of my shyness. The crowd here must have been big, I didn’t really look, but didn’t need to. Like I said, my mom was loved.

“Lily babe, you don’t have to do this,” Bex whispered. There were streaks on her face from the tears she’d already shed. My face, I knew, was streak free. I was still numb.

I smiled woodenly. “Yeah, I do.”

Aiden moved beside her. “She’s right,” he murmured quickly, “this is too much.”

I silenced him with a hand. “I’m doing it,” I said firmly and quickly, aware of all the eyes on me, and hating it. I didn’t give them any more time before moving around to stand in front of the crowd. I wasn’t wrong. It was big.

“Thank you, Father,” I mumbled.

He bowed his head and gave me a soft gaze filled with sympathy. I took a breath and faced the crowd. I was prepared. I could do this. I thought I could, until my eyes caught the glimpse of chrome reflecting off the dim light. A small group of Harley’s were parked in the distance. My eyes met familiar ones quickly, a rich chocolate gaze momentarily paralyzing me.

Asher.

He was here.

Along with Lucky, Amy, Brock, Cade, Gwen, and Rosie.

I sucked in a breath, aware I’d been silent. I ripped my eyes away from the man who I hadn’t stopped thinking about in three years. The man who took up the fantasy world I escaped to when I couldn’t stand the real one.

Don’t focus on that now, I told myself. Be strong for her, one last time.

“My mom was the greatest person I ever met,” I started, my voice clear. “She was everything I want to be, everything I could wish to be,” I continued, my voice wavering. “She found beauty in every single thing that she laid her eyes on. She made every single thing she laid her hands on beautiful.” I moved my eyes from the crowd, from the stare that burned into my soul to regard the horizon. To watch the sun slowly move away. “She had it till the end,” I said to the horizon. “Beauty. The ugly disease failed to take that.”

I took a breath as sorrow threatened to overcome me, the weight on my chest threatening to bring me to my knees. “She wanted to see the sun set, on the day we all said goodbye to her. The sun setting does not mean it’s disappeared, it just means its light’s shining somewhere else, that’s what she told me.” I watched the sky dance with the last of the light. “That’s where she is, shining her light somewhere else. Somewhere better,” I finished almost choking on my last word, but able to keep my head straight, my eyes clear, so I could watch the last of the sun’s aura disappear.

“Bye, Mom,” I whispered to the horizon.





“Thank you for coming, you didn’t have to,” I said to Gwen after she had finally let me out of her embrace.

The pity on her face did not fade with her narrowed brows. “Honey, of course we did. You lost your mom. I wanted to be here. We all did. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Her voice wasn’t accusing, only sad, full of pain.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I didn’t want to trouble you, you’ve had a lot going on,” I explained. A lot was an understatement. I may have quit working for Gwen a year ago when Mom got worse, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t stopped seeing them. I knew things in their lives were always intense. Kidnappings and shootings were more than intense. Which was why I never told them about Mom. They were good people. They’d take it upon themselves to help, even with all of the trouble in their life. They didn’t need that. I valued their friendship, but I didn’t want to be that burden to add to the drama.