We whoosh through the gate, still too fast for me to make out who's waiting for us. Did Hero and King make it? The others? Is Mom here?
The gates slam shut behind us the moment we pass through. I hang on to Wild Child for dear life, sure that it's going to be our last moment.
The bike tips sideways and the back tire squeals. Something smells burnt and momentum presses me into the seat so hard it feels like it's trying to come up inside me. But then we stop, the pressure goes away and the engine cuts out. For a moment, all I hear is my own heart thundering in my ears. The air tastes like grit.
I open my eyes as the last of a massive dust cloud drifts past us. Wild Child has weaved us through the front lot, between some of the back buildings and skidded us right up against the fence on the other side of the compound. Any farther and we would've slammed right into it.
He laughs, but he's winded and sounding a little wild, even for him. “Welcome home, babe.”
40
EMILY
A moment later, both Hero and King are there with me. I don't even get to climb off the bike myself, because Hero lifts me off. He squeezes me into a hug, enveloping me in his huge arms.
Then King is there, and peels me off, but only so that he can give me a hug of his own. He buries his face in my neck. It's so unlike him to get so physical that I have to wonder if he's okay. But it also feels so nice, so I'm not going to complain.
And eventually he relinquishes me to Wild Child, who not only hugs me, but starts running his hands very suggestively over my ass. My feet still haven't touched the ground since I came to the compound.
“Guys, I'm okay,” I finally get out when it seems like Wild Child isn't about to let me down anytime soon.
“We fucking missed you.” Wild Child buries his face in my neck and kisses it, over and over.
King's jaw tightens. “If that motherfucker harmed a single hair on your—”
“I'm okay.”
“Good.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, touching me softly, as if he's reassuring himself that I'm back.
“Which room?” asks Wild Child as he hefts me up and carries me towards the clubhouse.
“Wait, what?”
“Mine's closest,” says King
“Guys!”
“Sounds good to me,” adds Hero.
“What about Mom? Is she okay?”
“She's with Eagle-eye,” says King. “She's doing fine.”
“What about the cops?”
“A couple are keeping watch outside the compound, but we're ready for them.” King nearly growls it as he pushes open the door. I struggle against Wild Child's iron grip, but he's not letting me down.
“Viking, Bear, Hawk—”
“They're all fine.”
“But we can't just go and—”
“Of course we can.” There are hollers and whoops as we pass through the common room and then we're down the hallway to King's room. I didn't notice if Mom was in there, and I'm just going to try not to think too hard on that and imagine she wasn't.
And then Hero shuts the door, Wild Child tosses me on the big bed—literally King size—and it's just us. The four of us. I can't quite believe it. The men who are willing to turn the world upside down for me. There was a long time when I wondered if I'd ever find a man who would treat me the way I wanted, and now there are three of them.
And they're all looking down at me like they're going to eat me up whole.
I push myself up on my elbows. “Do we even have time for—”
“Shh.” Wild Child shuts me up with a kiss, taking my cap and throwing it aside before pushing me right back down. His lips are soft and warm.
The bed rocks as two more large bodies get on it. All three of them, this time. I already know what Hero feels like, and Wild Child. But now King is here too, and I'm going to try as hard as I can not to get overwhelmed as we celebrate my rescue.
Fat chance.
I'm not sure who's the first one to get his hand up my shirt, since I'm still making out with Wild Child like it's five minutes to curfew on prom night, but it doesn't take them long to unsnap my bra and free my breasts. My shirt comes up, and Wild Child pulls away just long enough for Hero to yank it over my head. He's already thrown away his own shirt. King, too.
“What the fuck?” King runs a finger over my arm, very gently over my fresh bruises now that they're exposed, then glares down at my side. “These weren't here.”
“They—”
“I'm going to fucking kill him. That bastard doesn't deserve to be your father. Anyone's fucking father.” His expression hardens, just like Hero and Wild Child's do.