It took him to places it had no right to go. To a future he wanted desperately but feared he’d never have. To a life with Wilder at his side. To the home they could build together.
He turned down the driveway with shaky hands, his pulse racing until he pulled up in front of the clubhouse and put the car in park. He stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the clubhouse in front of him. He felt safe here. This was more home than whatever Heath and he once had. It was certainly more home than Travis’s spare bedroom. He liked it here. A part of him wanted to stay. He wasn’t sure if it was just the part that was in love with Wilder, or if it was more than that.
A scratchy sound had him looking toward the driveway, and his heart stopped. He’d know that silver car anywhere. He’d actually followed him? What the fuck?
He knew Heath was delusional, but holy hell.
The second Heath was out of the car, Emmett yelled, “You really don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?”
Where that bravado came from, he didn’t know, but he tried like crazy to hold on to it as Heath walked closer. It lasted for all of two seconds before he was backing away and folding in on himself.
“You really think you’re something, don’t you?” Heath hissed, spit flying everywhere. “Are you fucking that guy? You’re fucking everyone here, aren’t you? Just a used-up fucking hole.”
Emmett’s heart was in his throat, sweat making his palms and back clammy. There was a fury in Heath unlike anything he’d seen before. He’d been condescending and mean, yes, but right now? He wasn’t sure what Heath might do.
Heath was close enough to touch now, and as he reached for Emmett, he froze again, hating himself more for it. His heart was beating frantically, his limbs heavy, and his mind sluggish.It was as if everything shut down. No matter how much he told his feet to move, his mouth to fight back, there was no response. No reaction.
His attention snapped onto something behind Heath, a blur of motion. Heath was on the ground before Emmett could take a breath, Heath’s arm wrenched behind his back, a knee pressing his face into the gravel.
He couldn’t hear what Wilder was saying, the noises overwhelming, but he could see his mouth move, Heath’s fury nothing on Wilder’s, and yet, he felt not a single shred of fear toward Wilder.
He heard the crunch of Heath’s wrist, his cry high-pitched and frankly pitiful. Wilder reached for the gun at his hip and pulled it, pressing the nuzzle against the top of Heath’s head, and Emmett felt… nothing. Numb. He was so fucking numb.
“You ever come near Emmett again, you’re a dead man,” Wilder said, the growl in his voice as much a warning as his words.
Emmett watched Heath scramble to his feet and run to his car, his hand cradled against his chest. He took off, gravel spraying as he jerked his car around. He watched until it disappeared down the driveway, an oddly empty feeling settling inside him.
It wasn’t until Wilder stepped in front of him that he realized he was speaking to him. He sucked in a breath, sounds and smells coming back into focus. He snapped his gaze onto Wilder, those green-flecked eyes filled with worry.
Wilder spoke, even signed as he did, and he didn’t care. He stepped right into Wilder’s chest, arms wrapping around the man to pull himself as tightly against him as possible. Wilder tensed for a second, and then he held Emmett, his body folding over him protectively. He buried his face in Wilder’s chest and breathed him in. He smelled like the lake. Pure serenity.
“He’s never touching you again. I promise,” Wilder said, his voice soft but stern.
Emmett nodded, eyes squeezed closed.
He wanted to stay like that forever, Wilder’s big arms wrapped securely around him, but he wasn’t surprised to hear gravel crunching under heavy boots. Wilder tensed for a moment, head moving slightly, and then he pressed a kiss to the top of Emmett’s head before turning them toward the approaching bikers.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Miles asked, wide-eyed as he reached for Emmett. “We heard a car.”
“Heath happened,” he mumbled, the flash of surprise in Miles’s eyes quickly turning to anger.
“That piece of shit,” Miles hissed.
“You want him dead; he’s dead,” Kaz said, his voice even, though fury raged in his gray eyes.
“No. It’s alright.”
“It’s not,” Miles said.
“Want me to bankrupt him?”
He jumped, head snapping toward the voice. Ezra stood in the door to the garage, his brow raised and his expression much too serious for Emmett’s liking.
He shook his head, gaze turning to Wilder. “I think Wilder got the point across.”
It hadn’t escalated to violence before. Mostly because Emma had such tight control of herself. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d wanted to stab Heath in the face each time they’d squared off with each other. Each time Heath had shown up to claim that he was taking him home. Travis had tried to tell Heath off, but he’d always blatantly ignored Travis, never bothering to learn any ASL.
The differences between Heath and Wilder were huge. Wilder had realized his ignorance almost immediately anddecided to rectify it. Heath had never liked the silence, had never cared to learn how to speak Emmett’s first language, whereas Wilder had brought him into his own silence.
