Chapter 23 Wylder
WYLDER
Samson, Cade, and I drag the men into the basement.
It’s a slog, mostly because they started fighting halfway through the yard, so we knocked them out.
Cade and Samson used the butts of their weapons to put the two men they’re dragging to sleep, while I used the pressure point at the side of my captive’s neck. He’s weak; went out without a fight.
This was far too easy. My hackles rise as we place them on separate metal tables and restrain them. The tables are drilled into the ground to stop them from being used as weapons.
We learned to do that the hard way.
As we do, I hear a knock on the basement door. I suppress a sigh, knowing who’s waiting behind it. “Samson, Harley, and Dalton, you can watch these men while we speak to our…significant others.”
“Ah, he’s serious,” Dalton says, clutching his chest dramatically. “Look at our stoic older brother, finally all grown up.”
I ignore him. I am serious about Neo. I have no plans to deny it. As far as I’m concerned, I want the whole world to know we’re together.
Not that we’ve labeled it as such…but we are.
I won’t accept anything less.
Harley’s lips thin. “If Jules is out there, I want to see him. He’ll be worried.”
I nod, and then stalk toward the door, slipping out. Jules is the first person I see, and I call out to Harley, who rushes past me, crashing me into the wall.
Asshole.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Jules says, his accent thick. He grabs on to Harley’s biceps and drags his hands to his chest. “I was so worried.”
Maybe we should start a betting pool on them. From how Neo is smirking at the two, I imagine he’s already plotting it.
My gaze turns toward Ansel and Cade, and then Wyatt and Matthias, the couples tucked into one another, whispering words of comfort to each other.
Neo flips me off as my attention returns to him. I bite back a smile at his greeting.
I can see the relief on his face though. I know he’s happy I’m safe.
“All right, enough canoodling,” I say.
Neo snorts, his eyes alight with mischief. “Never use that word again, dude.”
When he sees my glower, he winks before placing a quick kiss on my cheek and squeezing my biceps. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”
I tap the vest solemnly. “This was of no use at all.”
“It’s not meant to be useful all the time.” He rolls his eyes. “It just needs to be useful once, and it’ll be worth it.”
No one has listened to my demand to stop the PDA. Probably doesn’t help that Neo is still holding on to my arms. I need to set a better example for my siblings, I know that, but I can’t step away yet.
Jackson is slightly apart from everyone else. He’s leaning against the wall, thunder on his face as he scowls down at his phone. I’m not sure what’s on there to annoy him so much. There’s no service down here.
I peel my gaze away from him and clear my throat. “We need to figure out what these men want. It’s best if you all leave.”
Neo scoffs, but Ansel, Wyatt, and Jules do as they’re told, moving toward the stairs and out of sight. Jackson looks at the closed door behind me for a long beat before following the others.
Leaving just the brat. My brat.
Naturally.
“You should go too, Neo,” I say sternly, but he just marches up to me and pokes me in the chest.
“No way. I’m going in there. I want to know who the fuck they think they’re messing with and why.”
I stare down at him, and that finger that is digging into my chest makes my heart flutter. He inhales and drags it slowly down my abdomen, and before he can hook it in the waistband of my pants, I take hold of it. “Fine. You can be in the room, but you leave the minute you feel sick.”
He tilts his chin defiantly. “I won’t. I have a stomach of steel.”
Harley links his arm with Neo’s. “Hey, look. You don’t need to stay for this. I’m not going to.”
“I’m. Staying,” Neo insists through gritted teeth.
Harley shoots me a knowing look before patting Neo’s arm. “Yeah, all right. I’ll be upstairs with Jules making some ginger tea when you’re ready.”
Neo ignores him and steps around me to the door. He taps the sign and his lips twitch. “I’ve been meaning to ask this—is your torture room really called the Hospitality Suite?”
“Dalton’s sense of humor,” I say dryly, opening the door.
Dalton’s head snaps around as we enter. I expect him to comment on what I said, but he doesn’t. I’m not sure he even heard me. “Everything okay?”
I tilt my head in confusion. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
There’s a slight flush on his cheeks as he shrugs. “No reason.”
Matthias pushes past us, leveling Dalton with a glare. “If you wanted to see Jackson, you should’ve come out too.”
“I don’t want to see him,” Dalton snaps. “That’s not—”
He’s interrupted by a low groan. Our guests are starting to awaken.
We fall silent as they come to, their eyes blinking in the bright lights. They curse and struggle against the ropes holding them. They’ve got no hope of escaping Cade’s knots.
The closet door bangs open, and Samson brings out a cart. The cheery tune he’s whistling grates with the squeaking of the wheels. The three men’s eyes widen as it comes to a halt beside them, Samson removing the cloth with far more flourish than is necessary.
Something about torture really brings out Samson’s sunshine side. It’s very small, but it appears with violence.
And my brothers think I’m the odd one.
The men are fidgeting now, trying to escape again. They’ve likely noticed the wide array of weapons awaiting them.
Or toys, as the others prefer to call them.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” I tell them. There’s no inflection in my voice; I’m just giving them the facts.
The one with tiny eyes gulps. “Does that mean you’ll let us leave if we tell you what you want to know?”
“No. You’re going to die either way.” I step closer, letting my monster rise. “You broke into our property, our home. The place that protects our loved ones. Did you really think you could violate this space and we’d just let you walk away?”
Mousy-haired’s lips start to tremble. “Then why give us a choice?”
I smile mockingly. “If you tell us what we need to know, then I’ll kill you. If you don’t, that honor will be given to Samson.”
Samson chooses that moment to start sharpening a machete.
“Either way, you die.” I shrug.
Neo clings to my arm, swaying slightly. “God. You’re really going to kill them?”
I don’t take my eyes off the men on the tables. The men who we caught under Neo’s window. “Yes. We are. They can’t return.”
“Will you get caught?”
That’s what he’s worried about? “No, we won’t.”
His anxiety eases, replaced by his usual curiosity. “Where will you bury them?”
Cade is leaning against the wall, still smoking that infernal cigar.
Or maybe it’s a new one. No fucking clue.
“There’s a place in the woods,” Cade says when I don’t answer, and I turn my glower on him. He shrugs. “What? He should know.”
I’m not the only one glaring at him. For some reason, Neo is too. “No one should know this. I had no idea you buried people on your property. You should at least, like, throw them in the sea.”
“We’ve done that too,” Matthias says.
Samson laughs. “One time, Wylder went overboard. Got caught up in the rope. Had to fish him out like…well…a fish.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I was distracted.”
“He was drunk,” Dalton says.
“You? Drunk?” Neo lets out a loud laugh. “Fuck. I want to see that.”
“It’s pretty fun to watch,” Samson says, lifting the knife up to the light and examining it.
Neo lightly chuckles again and then gasps when Samson suddenly stabs one of the men in the neck. Blood splatters onto him, gushing from the man. His eyes are wide, his shoulders jerking as he attempts to stem the flow of blood, but he’s unable to, not with his hands tied.
Neo watches this all with a pale face and wide eyes.
I tug him back into my chest, feeling him tremble. “Samson, you could have warned him. Jesus.”
Samson shrugs a shoulder. “He wanted in here. He can watch like a big boy.”
Neo sways into me. “I don’t feel big or like a boy. I feel… I can’t feel my hands.”
“All right. Come on,” I say softly, and I lift him off the ground and take him into the other room, sitting him on a worn chair and putting his head between his legs. “You’ll be okay. Just breathe.”
“I am. I am.”
My hand rubs his back. I’m silently cursing Samson in the other room while waiting for Neo’s panic to subside. His recovery is faster than I thought it would be, only to start back up once the screams pierce the metal door.
I shake my head and mutter under my breath, lifting Neo and carrying him up the stairs, where Harley is waiting with a steaming cup of ginger tea. Just like he promised. Wyatt is there too, sympathy shining in his eyes.
“Hate to say I told you so,” Harley says, helping me guide Neo to a chair, where he sits.
It takes him a few moments to wrap his hands around the cup Harley offers, and I have to steady it as he lifts it to his mouth.
“We all think we can stomach it,” Wyatt says, perching on the arm of the chair and patting Neo’s shoulder. “But we can’t. We’re not built the same way as the Buckinghams.”
“We weren’t abused the same way,” Neo says quietly, meeting my gaze. “No one should be able to stomach it.”
I kiss his temple. He’s not wrong. It’s why Harley sometimes prefers to sit out on these sessions as well. Says he has to be in the right mood for torture. Hell, even Matthias abhors violence. He’s only down there now because, like the rest of us, he’s taking this personally.
Wyatt was here when they broke in. That’s about as personal as it gets for him.
“I need to go back down. I need to know what those men were doing here,” I say, reluctant to go. I could leave it to the others, but I’m afraid they’ll make a mess of it all.
“Go ahead,” Neo wheezes. “I won’t be mad. I’m fine. Totally fine. Can’t feel my face now.”
“I’ve got him,” Harley says, but I don’t leave. How can I when Neo is struggling?
Instead, I crouch down in front of him and take his hands in mine. “It’s okay. Having a little freak-out is normal. What is it that’s bothering you the most?”
Is he scared of me?
Neo’s breath is ragged. “It’s just…I know what The Firm does, but…”
“Knowing and seeing it are two different things.” There’s a strange ache in my chest. What if this is the moment when Neo realizes he can’t do this? What will I do then? “It’s part of our life. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary.”
“I know.” He gives me a weak smile. “It just…it scares me, ya know?”
The ache deepens as the monster growls. Harley and the others drift away, giving us the semblance of privacy. “Which part?”
“That you might get caught.” He exhales shakily. “Or worse. Hurt.”
I bite back a smile. “Careful, or I might start thinking you care.”
He scowls, and I have no hope of containing my smile. “Didn’t the vest give that away?”
I pretend to consider it. “Maybe. I might need to chase you again, just to be sure.”
He huffs, and relief rolls through me. There he is. My brat.
“You say I drive you crazy, but you like to do the same to me.”
I kiss the end of his nose. “True. Are you okay now?”
“Yes.” He gives me a lopsided grin. “You better go make sure they got the information we need before Samson kills them all.”
I straighten with a sigh. “He has no self-restraint. It’s no wonder he can’t dance.”
“Dance?”
Neo’s question is echoed by Wyatt. I sigh once more and hold my hands up. “Later. You can badger him about it later.”
Samson will probably kill me once he finds out I’ve spilled the beans. Unless I kill him first for not getting the information we need.
Information that will keep us safe. The Firm. The Buckinghams.
But most importantly, Neo.