Page 5 of Wilder's Promise
My heart rate doubles instantly, but I force myself to take another bite of my sandwich. "How do you know they're following us?"
"Same car I spotted in my mirrors. Now they're here, checking every booth." He takes a casual bite of his burger, but his eyes never leave the men behind me. "You remember where the Charger is parked?"
I nod, trying to keep my breathing steady.
"Good. When I say go, you walk—don't run—to the car. Get on the passenger side. I'll be right behind you." He reaches into his pocket and slides the keys across the table. "If anything happens to me, you drive straight to Pine Haven. Call your father the minute you're on the road."
"What's going to happen to you?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.
"Nothing, if this goes right." The corner of his mouth lifts in what might be a smile. "Ready?"
No, I'm not ready. I don't want to be in this situation. I don't want strange men following me because of who my father is. I don't want to be running for my life with a man I just met as my only protection.
But I nod anyway, because what choice do I have?
Wilder casually pulls out his wallet, drops enough cash on the table to cover our meals and a generous tip, then meets my eyes. "Go. Now."
I slide out of the booth, keeping my movements natural despite the adrenaline racing through my veins. With the car keys clutched tightly in my hand, I walk toward the door, focusing on looking normal. Just a girl leaving a diner after lunch. Nothing suspicious.
From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of two men in dark jackets standing near the register. One of them turns as I pass, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long. I keep walking, pushing through the glass door into the parking lot.
The Charger sits twenty yards away, black and sleek in the afternoon sun. I maintain my pace, though every instinct screams at me to run. Behind me, I hear the diner door open again. Footsteps that aren't Wilder's. My heart hammers against my ribs.
"Miss Emma," a heavily accented voice calls. "A moment, please."
I freeze, terror washing over me in a cold wave. They know my name. I turn slowly to see them approaching, a thin smile on their faces. No sign of Wilder.
"I think you have me confused with someone else," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I don't think so." The man continues advancing, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Your father has something that belongs to us. Perhaps you can help us recover it."
My fingers tighten around the car keys, the metal edges digging into my palm. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I think you do." He's only a few feet away now. "Why don't you come with us? We can discuss it somewhere more comfortable."
"She's not going anywhere with you." Wilder's voice cuts through the parking lot as he emerges from the diner, his hand resting on what I now see is a gun holstered under his leather cut.
The man’s smile falters. "This doesn't concern you."
"The president's daughter always concerns me." Wilder moves to stand between me and the man. "Walk away now, and you might live to report back to Charles."
At the mention of Charles, something dangerous flashes in the man's eyes. His hand drifts toward his jacket.
"Emma," Wilder says without turning, "get in the car."
I back toward the Charger, keys ready, unable to tear my eyes from the scene unfolding before me. The second man has moved, circling to flank Wilder.
"Last chance," Wilder warns them. "Walk away."
The first man laughs. "Two against one. I like these odds."
"You shouldn't," Wilder says, and he draws his gun.
What happens next is a blur. The Vultures MC lunge forward. A shot rings out, then another. I scream as the first man crumples to the ground, clutching his leg. The second tackles Wilder, sending them both crashing into a nearby car. The gun skitters across the pavement.
I fumble with the keys, finally getting the door open and throwing myself into the passenger seat. Through the windshield, I watch in horror as Wilder and the man grapple violently, trading brutal blows.
Despite his younger age and obvious strength, Wilder fights with a calculated precision that's terrifying to witness. He blocks a wild punch, counters with an elbow to the man's face, then follows with a knee to the stomach that doubles the larger man over.
