Chapter Two
Emmett
THE SOUND of running water led him toward the kitchen, where he expected to find his brother, though he wasn’t entirely surprised when he didn’t.
The faucet was on, and Travis was nowhere to be seen.
He walked to the sink and turned the water off with a shake of his head.
It was easy to forget the water was running when you couldn’t hear it.
He’d grown up with one of his fathers and his brother forgetting things quite often, though Travis was definitely the worst at it.
He reached for a glass in the cabinet despite wanting to go for a cup of coffee. Caffeine was not his friend. He was already nervous, and it would only make him more jittery.
They were going back to the motorcycle club.
The bikers had bought and renovated a gym, and they’d commissioned him to paint two murals there.
Why he’d agreed to do it, he still wasn’t sure.
Possibly his brother’s guilt trip, possibly to escape his disaster of a life?
Well, dating life, really. The rest wasn’t so bad.
His ex, though? The asshole just wouldn’t take no for an answer.
If it weren’t for his family, he might not have realized in time that he was in an abusive relationship.
They were only together for a year, but it was long enough to leave scars on his soul.
He tried not to let it show, the shame of it too great.
He knew to blame Heath, but he was the one who stayed. The one who took the abuse.
He blew out a breath and rested his hip against the kitchen counter.
He closed his eyes, running his hands down his face.
Just thinking about it took its toll. At least he was out.
Leaving hadn’t been pretty, though. Travis had to hold back their dad, or he might’ve killed Heath.
Dad was a military man through and through, and even though it was over twenty years since he’d retired, Dad was as fit as when he was active-duty. Heath wouldn’t have stood a chance.
He grabbed the apple juice from the fridge and poured some into his glass, then reached for a bowl, milk, and his favorite cereal.
He walked into the living room, heading for the couch, when low laughter stopped him in his tracks.
No wonder his brother forgot about the water.
He shook his head, smiling to himself as he sat down with his breakfast.
He was halfway through the cereal when the two lovebirds emerged from Travis’s bedroom.
He popped a spoonful of cereal and milk into his mouth before putting his bowl on the coffee table, swallowing as he looked up.
Emma’s dirty blonde hair was braided back the way she always did when she was planning on riding her bike.
She wore her leather cut over a long-sleeved baby blue shirt that looked great with her dark jeans.
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkling as she glanced at Travis, who was watching her the way he had their whole lives: like she was the moon brightening his darkest night.
How they thought they were hiding their relationship was beyond him, but he was willing to play along because he knew they weren’t ready to go public.
They both worried about what their families would think what with them practically having been raised together.
As if their fathers didn’t have a bet on when they’d get together.
Their uncles, too. Uncle Nic was winning that bet.
Unsurprising. The man was uncanny in his predictions.
The instincts of a former assassin never failed, it seemed.
Travis placed a hand against the side of Emma’s face, signing with his other hand, and from the blush rising to Emma’s cheeks, he was glad he couldn’t see what his brother was telling her.
At least something good came out of his shitty situation. He knew they’d fought a lot about what to do when he hadn’t even known he needed their help, and that tension had probably exploded into whatever they were now. He loved that for them.
Travis’s hand fell from Emma’s face when she shook her head and stepped into the living room.
“Oh, hey,” Emma said, blinking rapidly for a moment when she noticed him. “You’re home.”
“Hold on,” he said, pretending to turn on his speech processors. “There. What did you say?”
Relief bloomed on her face, and she smiled as she dropped down on the couch next to him, slinging an arm around his shoulders as she leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.
“Morning. I didn’t know you were home,” she said.
“Dad dropped me off last night. Apparently, I’m cramping their style,” he drawled, his lips quirking at the corners.
A hand slapping his chest had him jumping, a burst of laughter escaping him.
“He did not say that.”
Emmett shrugged. “Might as well have.”
He turned his gaze on Travis, who was watching with a deep furrow between his brows. He was trying to lipread, so Emmett switched to sign.
“Date night.”
Travis’s brows jumped, a smile pulling at his lips. He glanced at Emma and signed, “Code for sex.”
“Ew,” Emma exclaimed and promptly mock-gagged.
“At least they’re not exhibitionists,” Emmett said under his breath, chuckling when Emma punched him in the shoulder with enough force to make him fall over on the couch.
“What?” Travis signed.
“Exhibitionism,” he signed back, receiving a middle finger from Emma.
A grimace crossed Travis’s face, and he shook his head, signing, “Stop talking about our parents having sex.”
Emmett’s burst of laughter only got him two pointed glares. Travis walked off toward the kitchen with a shake of his head, and Emmett turned to Emma, lip thrust out in a pout.
“Don’t give me that look,” Emma groused, eyes narrowing.
“But I’m adorable.”
“You’re insufferable.”
His pout transformed into a smirk, and Emma was already scrambling to get off the couch before he could get to her. She didn’t make it before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.
“Why won’t you love me?” he cried out.
A throw pillow hit him in the face, and he dropped back on the couch with a hearty laugh.
“Go pack your stuff,” Emma said with a shake of her head, pushing him back down when he tried to stand. He flipped her off with both hands, grinning as she laughed on her way to the kitchen.
He got up and grabbed his bowl and glass, emptying what little apple juice was left before he followed Emma.
He heard the pop and sizzle of bacon before he smelled it.
He stepped through the door and pressed his lips together to hide his smile.
Travis was making Emma breakfast. He wasn’t a fan of eating or cooking meat, but for Emma?
She didn’t even have to ask. They were adorable.
Emma was grabbing coffee mugs out of the upper cabinet, turning to arch a brow at him.
He shook his head and placed his bowl, spoon, and glass in the sink.
The nerves all came rushing back as he remembered why Emma was there.
He hadn’t been nervous last time, but then again, he’d been pretty fucking hungover then, and painting the wall of the clubhouse had been an impulsive thing.
He hadn’t had time to freak out about it. He’d just done it.
The club’s colors were simple to paint: a skull with a crown in the middle and the text at the top and bottom.
It hadn’t taken him much more than an hour.
But these murals he’d been commissioned for?
They would take him days to paint. Possibly days to come up with a design before he could even get to painting.
He was staying at the clubhouse because he didn’t want to be stuck hours away if inspiration struck, but that meant sharing his space with a bunch of other people.
At least he’d grown up with some of them.
A sigh fell from his lips, and he was grateful the others didn’t seem to catch it. They were overprotective. Each in their own way. He couldn’t decide whether he was happy about it or not. Being babied wasn’t fun, but he also knew he was vulnerable right now. His mind wasn’t his friend.
A low chuckle had him snapping his gaze onto Emma and his brother.
Travis was feeding Emma a piece of bacon, and just as she was about to close her mouth over it, Travis pulled it away, a huffing sound coming from him when she playfully elbowed him in the side.
She grabbed him by the wrist and held his hand still to take a bite of the bacon.
Emmett shook his head and walked off before that turned into something he didn’t want to witness.
He hated the empty feeling it sometimes gave him to see them happy.
He wanted that for himself. Someone who’d do things for him just because they loved him, the way he would for them.
He wanted someone who would dance in the kitchen with him as they cooked instead of telling him it was childish and to turn down the music.
He wanted someone who loved him exactly as he was.
Someone who loved him because of who he was.
That dark part of him tried to convince him he’d never find that, and he was inclined to believe it.
He went to take a shower, the hot water washing over him and doing nothing to ease the tension in his body.
He tried to massage his tense muscles, but nothing helped.
He rested his forehead against the tiles, eyes closed as water beat down his back.
He wasn’t sure how to fix everything that was wrong in his life.
Wasn’t sure any of it was truly fixable.
He breathed in deeply and pushed away from the wall.
He stepped out of the shower and dried off, his mind whirling.
At least when he had a blank canvas in front of him, he was likely to home in on the task and forget everything around him.
He was looking forward to that. To not be stuck in his own head like this.
He dressed and walked across the hall to his room, which looked like utter chaos.
There were moving boxes stacked in the corner, most of them unopened because he had no clue where to put his things.
While he hadn’t had much to take with him from his and Heath’s apartment, the room his brother had given up for him in his apartment wasn’t exactly big.
He picked up the bag Travis had lent him and turned to his closet. Things had mostly been thrown in there haphazardly, and he had no clue what was what. With a deep sigh, he grabbed the closest pile and dropped it on his bed.
He pulled a few shirts out of the pile, folding and placing them in his bag. He’d need normal clothes as well as clothes to work in. He reached for a shirt, accidentally grabbing the blue one underneath it. He pulled it out and felt his throat close up.
It was a shirt Heath had bought him.
He didn’t want anything to do with it. He wanted it gone.
He looked around his room for somewhere to put it and landed on the trash can.
He crossed the room, pulling the empty bag out of the trash can, and shoved the shirt into it.
He knew there was more clothing he didn’t want.
Things Heath had bought or wanted him to wear. He’d put it all together and donate it.
He jumped when there was a rap on his door, his heart hammering as he turned to see Emma pop her head inside, a soft smile on her lips.
“Hey. We’ll head down and wait for you by the car.”
“OK,” he signed, his mind a jumble of thoughts. He turned back to the clothes covering his bed and cringed. He didn’t have time.
The spark of urgency, knowing the others were waiting for him, had his bag filled and his tablet shoved inside in less than a minute.
He grabbed his leather jacket off the hook behind the door, then pulled the strap of his bag over his head.
He didn’t look back as he walked out the door.
It felt almost as if he was leaving behind more than clothes.
He headed down the stairs and found Emma and Travis just outside the front door of the building. He came to a halt when he noticed them signing. He didn’t mean to snoop, but he couldn’t help it when he saw Emma sign, “He’s not okay.”
His heart squeezed painfully in his chest, and then it took off racing.
“E’s fine,” Travis told her with a shrug.
Even from here, he could see the thunderous expression on Emma’s face.
“No, he’s not! Pretending is not fine.”
Swallowing hard, he dropped his gaze to the ground, the weight of Emma’s words hitting him like a freight train because she was right.
He wasn’t fine. Pretending seemed to make it better for everyone around, but he wasn’t so sure it was better for him.
He didn’t know what else to do, though. He always hid his struggles.
There had been too many of them throughout his life for him not to.
Hiding it kept the peace. It had kept him and his brother from being shipped around to yet another foster family. At least for a while.
It wasn’t until they were fostered by Dad and Daddy that he slowly learned he didn’t have to hide. For some reason, they wanted him to share, and when he did, they didn’t turn their backs on him. It had been tough to learn, and still, he fell back into his old patterns time and again.
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, straightening his back before walking out and facing Emma and his brother. He only found Emma there, her jaw clenched tightly as she glared off toward where he suspected his brother had disappeared to.
She glanced up when she heard him approach.
“You ready?” she asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Emma nodded, her gaze falling to his bag. “Did you pack enough?”
“It should only take a week, and if it takes longer, there’s a washing machine I can use, right?”
Emma’s lips spread in a smile that was the opposite of reassuring.
“Honey, we’re what? Fourteen people using the same washer? I wish you luck.”
“Have you considered getting another?”
“Oh, Miles is working on it,” Emma said, her eyes gleaming. She slung her arm around his shoulders and tugged him along. “Let’s find your idiot brother and get this show on the road.”