He walked to the front of the building, looking up at the part that was visible from the road. His canvas was around twenty-five feet long and nearly ten feet tall. There was a lot to cover, though he planned on making sure a bit of the gorgeous red brick would shine through.
He looked around for a place to sit down so he could sketch on his tablet, his gaze catching on a small bench across the road. The back was to the gym, but he didn’t mind sitting sideways. He preferred his knees up to rest his tablet on his thighs anyway.
Traffick was still very light as he crossed the road, which was exactly why he’d chosen to go at this time.
He sat down on the bench with his back against the armrest and put his feet up, turning his head to take in the front of the gym. He wanted to paint something that not only connectedwith what he’d decided on inside, but also something that made it clear what the building housed. He started with some light sketches, and once he had an idea of where he wanted to take this mural, he started looking for reference pictures.
He was so immersed in his work that he didn’t realize someone had walked up to him until a hand on his shoulder made him jump.
He snapped his head up, blinking, then frowning at the man who was watching him with an expression he wasn’t sure he liked. He was older with graying hair, his shirt hanging slightly off his thin frame.
“Can I help you?”
“You can tell me what the hell you’re doing.”
Emmett’s mouth dropped open at the snarl in the old man’s voice.
He sat up straight and let his feet hit the ground. He held his tablet to his chest, unease filling him at the way the old man looked at him.
“I’m just sketching the mural I’m going to paint on that building,” he said, gesturing toward the gym.
“Vandalism?”
Emmett bit back an angry retort and instead said, “No. I was hired by the owner.”
“By those criminals, you mean?”
“They do more good than you probably ever have,” he hissed, pushing to his feet in a flash and stepping around the old man, silently seething as he looked to either side before starting across the road. He looked toward the gym’s parking lot, noticing a few more cars as well as several motorcycles that hadn’t been there when he arrived. He pressed the start button on his tablet to check the time and cursed under his breath. He’d been at it for two hours already.
A high-pitched sound made him look to his left with a frown, time freezing when he saw a big car speeding toward him. It wasn’t slowing down, and he could barely think, his feet planted in the ground as he stared at his oncoming demise.
Something hard hit him, throwing him down on the road. He wasn’t sure what hurt because he couldn’t breathe. There was a heavy weight on him, and it was crushing him. His lungs tried to expand, sending a bolt of pain through his chest.
The weight disappeared, and he drew in a deep and extremely painful breath of air. Greens and browns swirled in his vision, and it took him a moment to realize that he was looking up into green-flecked eyes.
Wilder’s jaw was clenched tight, and he was running his hands over Emmett’s face and head, his touch light but searching. What the hell was he looking for?
“What happened?”
“Someone tried to run you over,” Wilder said, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse. “Your tablet’s dust, but I think I caught your head before we hit the ground.”
Emmett put his hands on the ground on either side of him and pushed himself into a seated position, frowning at Wilder when the man’s fingers only slipped further into his hair.
The slap of running footsteps had him jerking his head up, the flare of pain in his head making him wince. Looking at the guy in front of them was like seeing someone through a wave of water.
“You got ‘em?” Wilder asked.
“They hauled ass, but we got them. Pulled those fuckers right out of the SUV.”
Emmett squeezed his eyes shut against the pain and reached blindly for Wilder, fingers connecting with warm skin and an ungodly amount of muscles.
“I’m taking him back to the clubhouse. Emma needs to look him over.”
“Did I get hit by the car?” Emmett mumbled, blinking open his eyes just in time to catch the quirk of Wilder’s lips before a serious expression covered his face.
“No. Just me.”
Fingers slipped from his hair, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain when Wilder lifted him into his arms and carried him across the road. Quick glances told him they were surrounded by bikers, all of whom looked somewhere between mad and murderous. He wasn’t sure why.
