Chapter Thirty-Five
Wilder
HE WRAPPED his arms around Emmett from behind, resting his chin on top of his head. Emmett hummed and leaned back into his arms, his body fitting there like it was made for him. Like they were made for each other.
“You get everything you wanted done?”
Emmett sighed. “I can keep finding little imperfections to fix, so if I don’t stop now, I’ll just keep going.”
Wilder chuckled and pressed a kiss to Emmett’s cheek, breathing in that creamy scent he associated with everything good in his life.
He looked up at the mural covering most of the boxing room wall. It was an intricate outline of different people, and behind them was a rainbow of different colors. There was a quote on the right side that read, ‘Our strength is each other.’
There was nothing to fix. It was perfect.
“A few more days and this place is gonna be open,” he said, excitement churning inside him. The last big thing they hadn’t put up yet was the ring, but they’d get it built sometime during the weekend, and then they’d officially be done. Everything would be ready for the grand opening on Monday.
He was looking forward to seeing what this place could become for their community. For the safety it might provide.
“I can’t wait to see it,” Emmett said and turned in his arms, a wry smile stretching his lips.
He lowered his head for a kiss, grinning when Emmett hummed appreciatively and leaned into it.
He knew Emmett was staying for the opening, but beyond that?
They hadn’t talked about it yet, and he knew they needed to.
He wasn’t concerned about their relationship.
Emmett loved him and wanted to be with him.
It was more the logistics of it all. He didn’t care how far or long he had to travel to see Emmett, but having gotten used to being together as much as they’d been the past few weeks?
It would be hard. So fucking hard. He wanted to wake up next to Emmett every day.
He wanted to make him smile first thing in the morning.
He wanted to take his breath away, wanted to make him as loud as possible every damned time he could.
He grabbed Emmett’s hands, tugging as he backed toward the doors.
“You know, the clubhouse is empty right now,” he said, brows rising.
Emmett’s cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink as he bit down on his bottom lip. He needed to be the one biting that lip.
“What are we waiting for?” Emmett asked, a gleam entering his eyes.
Wilder’s lips pulled into a wry smile before he turned and tugged Emmett along. No one stopped them as they headed through the gym and down the hallway, which was lucky because he wasn’t about to let anyone slow him down. Not when he could have Emmett in his bed in ten minutes.
They’d only just made it out the back door when he jerked Emmett up against him, mouth crashing down on Emmett’s. He swallowed Emmett’s moan when he parted his lips, their tongues tangling in a deep kiss while he grabbed a handful of Emmett’s ass with each hand.
“We should take this home,” Emmett said against his lips, pulling out of Wilder’s arms, lips twitching as if he was trying not to smile as he backed toward the motorcycles.
He would’ve followed immediately if not for that word: home. It made him stop to stare at Emmett because he didn’t know how he’d gotten this fucking lucky. Emmett thought of the clubhouse as home? Fuck. He wanted that to be true. He wanted Emmett to stay with him. He wanted a home with him.
Emmett reached his bike, putting his hands behind him on the seat while he raised a brow at Wilder.
He could just imagine how damned good he’d look in a leather cut, that smirk on his face.
Oh, he knew what he was doing. They weren’t making it to the clubhouse before he had Emmett screaming his name.
A wicked smile spread on his lips, and he took a step toward Emmett, the click of car doors opening stopping him in his tracks.
He jerked his head to the right, his heart freezing in his chest. Four men in black outfits, scarves pulled up to cover the lower half of their faces, came out of a van parked just behind the row of motorcycles.
He reached for his gun but hesitated. They were too close to Emmett. He couldn’t risk it, so he took off running toward Emmett instead.
He was too far away to get there first.
“Emmett!”
Emmett blinked at him, then whirled around to see the approaching men. A heartbeat later, Emmett was yelling Wilder’s name as one of the masked men grabbed him from behind, arms wrapping around his middle and lifting him off his feet.
The three other men set their sights on Wilder.
“Get him in,” the tallest of the masked men charging toward Wilder yelled, and the one grappling with Emmett started moving in the direction of the van.
Fuck no! They weren’t taking Emmett away from him. They couldn’t fucking have him.
He slammed straight into the nearest of the masked men, sending the asshole crashing down onto the concrete.
He nearly joined him, but righted himself just in time, whirling around to face his next attacker.
He only got a second to duck before a fist swung at his face.
It didn’t leave him with enough time to avoid the boot coming at his right hip.
A grunt flew from his lips, but he managed a swing of his own.
All he hit was air, and then he had to jump back again.
He had the three men circling him, all with clear intent in their eyes. He blocked a blow, then took one in the shoulder, barely landing a kick to the knee of the bulkiest of the men. His leg disappeared under him, but he was back up a second later, only looking more determined than ever.
They were trained. Well-fucking-trained. Nothing like the two assholes who’d gone for Emmett in the boxing room.
A yell snapped his attention to the van, and ice ran through his veins as he saw Emmett still fighting the asshole trying to drag him inside.
An explosion made sparkles appear in his vision, pain following a second later as he hit the ground. He blinked, realizing there hadn’t been an explosion. One of them had hit him with something hard in the back of the head.
Blood ran down the side of his face, dripping onto the ground, his vision blurring as pain speared through his head with the intensity of a lightning strike. He pushed off the ground, barely getting to his knees. He looked up, a sapphire blue gaze clashing with his.
“Wilder!” Emmett yelled, scratching and kicking at the man holding him.
He managed to turn his head to look over his shoulder just as a boot hit him in the side, knocking him down. He felt a burn on his skin as he slid across concrete, but he ignored the pain and pushed himself up only to be knocked right back down, a heavy weight settling on his back.
“No,” he gasped out, slamming his elbow into the side of his attacker’s face, trying to get free so he could get to Emmett. He could hear him scream, the ice-cold terror inside him nearly drowning it out.
He landed on his back and tried to reach for the gun at his hip, only to be blocked by the asshole’s knees as he settled on top of him. Hands closed around his throat, squeezing tight as he trashed.
“Not my brother, you bitch!”
Blood splattered his face, and he gasped for air, everything woozy as shit.
The weight on him disappeared, and he sucked in a painful breath, then coughed hard.
Jane’s face appeared in front of him. Faces. There were several, and her mouth was moving on all of them, but the only thing he could hear was a dull throb. He blinked, the blinding pain behind his eyes seemingly there to stay.
He drew in a deep breath and clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus, to see and hear. To clear the fog.
“Please tell me you’re okay?”
There was a panicked tone to Jane’s voice that he wasn’t sure he’d heard before, though it could be his hearing being absolutely fucked.
“Wilder?” Jane snapped.
That was more like it.
“More like what?”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then put his hands flat on the ground to push himself upright.
“I need to…” The words stopped coming out of his mouth as he swayed, dropping to his knees and hands.
“You need a doctor,” Jane said, small hands grabbing Wilder by the arms. “Help me get him up.”
“Emmett,” he gasped out, trying to pull free of Jane’s hold to turn back around. The van. Was it gone? Had they taken Emmett? Had they hurt him? Fuck! He was never going to forgive himself for this. If anything happened to Emmett, he’d never survive.
Emmett was the part of him that had been missing his whole life. The part he’d searched for but never found. Until Emmett. Until he’d looked at him with those brilliant blue eyes and taught him there was more to life. There was more to love.
His head felt like it was going to explode, the pain rattling his brain. He needed to get his shit together. He needed to get up. He needed to get Emmett back.
“What is that buzzing?” he mumbled, raising his hands to rub his temples, though for some reason he couldn’t get them up quite high enough. His arms felt like they were weighed down with lead.
“They’re going after Emmett,” Jane said, confirming his worst fear.
“The hit-and-run, the gym, they were trying to take him,” he forced out, his throat scratchy as hell.
He still didn’t know why they wanted Emmett. It didn’t make sense.
“Not important,” Jane said with a grunt, her small hands digging into his sides, his arm around her shoulders.
He barely realized he was moving until light blinded him, causing a lightning strike of pain through his head. Moments later, he was eased onto the couch and breathed a small sigh of relief when the overhead lights dimmed.
“Go get Emma,” Jane ordered someone.
All he heard were running footsteps and low voices. It was all a hum compared to the screeching inside his head. It didn’t want to stop. No matter how much he rubbed his temples or squeezed his head. It just. Kept. Screeching.