Page 22 of Wilder's Promise
"Don't die," she tells him, the words half command, half plea.
Reaper's mouth quirks in what might be a smile. "Not planning on it, kid."
With that, he turns to Evelyn, who steps into his embrace without hesitation. Their goodbye is wordless. A kiss, a shared look, a promise without sound. When they separate, Evelyn's eyes are bright with unshed tears, but her spine is straight, her chin lifted.
My brothers begin moving toward the door, a solemn procession of leather and steel. Ghost nods to me as he passes, a silent reminder of our earlier conversation. Blade clasps my shoulder, Ace and Viper offer fist bumps. Small gestures, heavy with meaning. We all know the risks of tonight's mission.
Reaper is the last to leave. At the door, he turns back, his ice-gray eyes finding mine across the room.
"Remember what I said," he calls. "Emma and Evelyn are your priority. Above everything."
I nod once. "Above everything," I repeat.
With that, he's gone.
Chapter 8 - Emma
"Above everything," Wilder repeats, his voice carrying a weight of promise that hangs in the air long after my father and his men have gone.
The sudden silence in the clubhouse is deafening. One moment, the space was filled with the energy of men preparing for battle; now there's just... emptiness. The hollow aftermath of their departure.
I can't stand still. My body seems to have developed a mind of its own, carrying me back and forth across the main room in restless strides.
"They'll be fine," Evelyn says from where she sits on the couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Your father knows what he's doing."
"Does he?" I can't keep the edge from my voice. "Because launching an assault on another motorcycle club seems pretty reckless to me."
Wilder, who's been checking the clubhouse's security system, glances over at me. "It's calculated, not reckless. There's a difference."
"Is there? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like suicide."
The words come out harsher than I intended. I resume pacing, five steps one way, turn, five steps back, as if the movement itself can somehow burn off the anxiety building inside me.
I shouldn't care this much. That's what I keep telling myself. Jackson Kane hasn't been a real father to me in years. He let me walk away. Chose this life.
This dangerous, violent, outlaw existence, over a normal family life with me and my mother. I've spent years building walls against him, convincing myself that his choices meant nothing to me.
So why does my chest feel tight with fear now? Why can't I stop imagining him bleeding out in some warehouse, surrounded by enemies?
"Emma." Wilder's voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. "You're going to wear a hole in the floor."
I stop mid-stride, suddenly aware of how my behavior must look to them. "Sorry. I just... I can't sit still."
"I get it." He moves closer, his voice dropping so only I can hear. "But you're scaring Evelyn more than she already is."
I glance at the dark-haired woman on the couch. She's trying to appear calm, but I recognize the tight line of her mouth, the slight tremor in her hands... The same signs of fear I'm trying to hide.
"Right." I take a deep breath. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize." Evelyn offers a strained smile. "I feel the same way. Like I'm crawling out of my skin."
I force myself to sit in an armchair across from her, though my leg immediately starts bouncing with nervous energy.
"Has he always been like this?" I ask her. "Rushing into danger?"
“From the little I've seen, yes. He doesn't hesitate when he believes something is right." Evelyn replies before Wilder.
"Even if it gets him killed." I shake my head. "That's not bravery. That's recklessness."
