by Wilder, L
“You can’t do this to me. Not now, Griffin,” Emerson pleaded. “I’ve finally gotten away from Grandfather, and now you want me to pack my stuff and go to your motorcycle club?”
“And what are you planning to do when they come knocking at your door? Because they’re coming. You can count on that, and these aren’t a bunch of frat boys I’m talking about, Em. They’ll kill you, but only after they’ve beaten and raped you.”
“Stop trying to scare me!”
“Only telling you the truth.”
“What about my classes?” she asked.
“We’ll figure something out… online classes or something. Mike can get you set up once we get you settled. For now, I need you to go pack your shit. We’re leaving in fifteen,” I ordered.
“This is crazy, Griff.”
“Maybe so, but it is what it is. You know you’re everything to me, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
She sat quietly with a scowl on her face while she mulled everything over. I knew she had a good thing going here, and it was understandable for her to be pissed. The whole thing had come as a shock to her. Hell, she’d never even been to the clubhouse before. That part of my life had always been closed off to her, and now I was demanding that she drop everything and submerse herself into my world. It wasn’t exactly fair, but Emerson was a smart girl. She knew I wouldn’t ask her unless there really was no other option. Without a word, she got up from the table and headed for her room. Twenty minutes later she came out of her room carrying two large duffle bags.
“Just so we are clear… I’m not happy about this, and you need to get Mr. Mike or whoever to get me setup to work on my classes online. I’m not going to get behind, just because some bozos want to cause trouble at your club.”
“Understood,” I told her as I took her bags.
“Are there any cute guys at this club?” she asked smiling.
“Just get in the car, Emerson,” I ordered.
“You know Grandfather is going to have a shit fit if he finds out about this,” she warned.
I didn’t have time to worry about his bullshit, so I decided to ignore her comment and head to my bike. By the time we made it back to the clubhouse, most of the guys were gone, busy tending to their families. Emerson reluctantly followed me down the hall, obviously feeling nervous about being here. Her eyes anxiously skirted around the room as she tried to acquaint herself with her new surroundings. I was pleased to see that Guardrail had kept his promise, and Emerson’s room was ready when we walked in. There wasn’t much to it – just a bed, TV and a small desk in the corner, but I hoped that she wouldn’t be here long. When things settled down, she could get back to school and finish her classes. After helping her get everything sorted, I headed for the door and said, “Got something I need to take care of.”
“Wait! You’re leaving me?” Emerson asked, her eyes wide with worry. I knew she was overwhelmed with everything, and it would take her some time to get adjusted to being at the club. But in time, she’d figure things out, and my brothers would be there to make sure she had everything she needed.
“Won’t be gone long.”
“Can I go with you?” she asked. “Please.”
“Can you keep your mouth shut? No questions?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll try,” she said smiling.
She wouldn’t be able to stop herself, but I still agreed to let her tag along. I hadn’t had much time to sort through the entire envelope of information Big Mike had given me on Wyatt and his mother, but I’d seen enough. I’d read the report on what had happened the other night when Wyatt turned up at the diner, and even with all the bruises, his dad had managed to keep his visitation. Just like I promised, I planned to be there to make sure nothing happened.
We’d been sitting outside of Michael’s house for almost twenty minutes when Emerson finally asked, “So who’s in the house? Is it the guys that are after you club?”
“No.”
“Okay, then, what are we doing here?” she pushed.
“I said no questions.”
“Come on, Griff. You gotta give me something here. I mean, really. You’ve got to admit that it’s kinda weird that we’re just sitting out here in the dark, staring at this house like we’re waiting for some bomb to go off,” she fussed.
“Just keeping an eye on things,” I explained.
“What things? A drug deal? A possible shoot out?” she asked, nudging me with her elbow.
“You watch too much TV.”
“You are a pain in the…” she started, but clamped her mouth shut when she saw Wren’s car pull into the driveway. She watched silently as Wyatt opened the front door of the house and ran over to his mother. Her face lit up when he wrapped his little arms around her waist, giving her a tight hug. My chest tightened as I watched them together, realizing how much they both cared about one another. Wren kissed her son on the top of his head and led him to the car. Neither of them acknowledged Michael standing at the front door as they pulled out of the driveway. He finally shut the door, and without missing a beat, Emerson turned to me and asked, “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“No,” I answered as I started up my bike. How could I explain it to her, when I didn’t understand it myself?
Chapter 7
Wren
‡
It’d been three days since I picked Wyatt up at his dad’s, and he had completely shut down. Like a turtle crawling into his shell, Wyatt had closed himself off from the world around him and as time passed, he was becoming more and more withdrawn. When I thought back to the other night at Michael’s, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look of relief on Wyatt’s face when he saw me standing in the driveway. I knew something was wrong. My little boy was scared… utterly and completely terrified and I had no doubt that Michael was the one who had frightened him. I’d tried everything I could think of to get Wyatt to talk to me about it, but he just wouldn’t open up. I knew it was partly because of his Asperger’s. He’d always had difficulty talking about things that bothered him, but it was something more than his difficulty sharing his feelings this time. I could see it in his face… he was trying to protect me, thinking that whatever happened might upset me. I tried to convince him that he didn’t need to worry, but nothing worked. Instead of just talking to me, he’d become distant, depressed, and sad. He’d even lost interest in his video games and just sat on the sofa with his eyes glued to the TV. It broke my heart to see him hurting, and I hated that I couldn’t do something more to help him. I’d racked my brain trying to figure out what Michael might have done or said, but I knew it was pointless. Unless Wyatt opened up to me, there was nothing I could do to help him.
I had ran out of ideas until I found Wyatt digging through my purse, searching for the small phone that biker had given him at the movie theater. His face lit up when he found it, smiling wide as he studied it.
“Wyatt,” I reprimanded. His head quickly turned to me, fear crossing his face as he gripped the phone tightly in his hand. “We need to talk about that phone.”
“Okay,” he answered, looking disappointed that he’d been caught.
“Wyatt, I think it’s a good idea for you to have a phone – especially when you go over to your dad’s. But I don’t think we should use this phone, buddy. It was a thoughtful gift, but…”
“But I like this one, Momma. It’s the coolest phone ever,” he pleaded. I looked down at the small phone and quickly realized that his pleas had nothing to do with that particular phone. It was about that biker… he wanted the phone that he had given him.
“Did your friend tell you why he gave you the phone?” I asked.
His little eyebrows furrowed when he fussed, “Mom… I told you. It’s in the vault.”
“Give me a hint here, buddy, or the phone is going back.”
“He said I should call him if I needed help,” he explained.
I wasn’t surprised by Wyatt’s
answer. I think I’d known all along that the phone was his way of trying to help Wyatt, but he should’ve talked to me about it. The list of unspoken communication was adding up, and it was time for me to find out what was really going on. I didn’t know what his intentions were, but I planned to find out. I decided to pay Wyatt’s biker friend a visit, but there was only one problem – I had no idea how to find him. Knowing that she knew everything about Clallam County, I picked up the phone and called Rachel.
“Time for that bail money?” she chuckled.
“Ahh, no. Not quite yet, but I do have a favor to ask,” I replied.
“Shoot.”
“You know that biker you asked me about? I need to find him,” I explained.
“What exactly are you planning to do?” she asked.
“I don’t exactly know yet. I just need to know how to find him first, then I’ll decide what I’m going to do from there.”
“Seriously, Wren, these aren’t the kind of guys you wanna mess around with,” Rachel warned. “They bring badass to a whole new level.”
“I can’t worry about that right now, Rach. I have to talk to him, and find out why he’s taken such an interest in Wyatt. Every time I turn around, he’s there. I’m pretty sure I saw him at Michael’s house the other night when I picked up Wyatt.”
“Hold up… you mean this guy is stalking Wyatt?”
“No, I don’t think it’s anything like that. I think he’s just trying to look out for him, but I need to know for sure. He’s never said anything to me. I just know that Wyatt is crazy about this guy,” I explained. “You saw how he acted when he showed up at the movies the other day. Wyatt was so excited to see him.”
“Yeah, he was pretty tickled.”
“I was sort of thinking… maybe this biker guy could get Wyatt to talk about everything.”
“You’re going to ask some stranger to talk to your son? Oh, Wren, I don’t know… I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but think about how Wyatt looked at him, how excited he was to be talking to him. I’ve never seen him like that with anyone before,” I explained. “Rach, I’m desperate. At this point, I’m willing to try anything. Wyatt may never open up to me and this may be my only chance to get through to him. I have no idea how this will play out, but I have to try, Rach. I have to do something. Just tell me how to find him… please. I promise to be careful,” I pleaded.
Long seconds passed before she finally exhaled a heavy sigh and said, “He’s a member of the Satan’s Fury MC, and from the patches on his cut, it looks like your guy is one of the leaders.”
“I have no idea what any of that means. Just tell me what I need to do.”
“The clubhouse is just outside of town out on Highway 113. You’ll have to keep an eye out for it. Trees block the entrance, and they’ll have a man guarding the gate. You’ll have to get past him first. If you make it that far, you shouldn’t have any problem finding him,” she explained. I didn’t bother asking how she knew so much about these men, knowing she’d have some wild story that would only make me more nervous about going.
“I’m going to head over there now, so I’ll need you to pick up Wyatt from school.”
“Okay, just be sure to call me the minute you leave there,” she demanded. “And please, please, please be careful. Promise me!”
“I will,” I promised.
I tried to block out all the nagging doubts that were bombarding my brain as I followed Rachel’s directions to the Satan’s Fury clubhouse. The not knowing was driving me crazy. I had no idea what it was like inside a motorcycle clubhouse, or what these biker people were like. If I took the time to dwell on my uncertainties, I would definitely chicken out. I just had to believe that the people at that club were just like anybody else, that they wouldn’t try to kill me on the spot. I was doing pretty well until I pulled up to the gate and a young heavy set man walked over to the car door. He was wearing one of those leather vests with a white patch along the side pocket that said prospect, and his arms were covered in brightly colored tattoos. He tapped the glass with the barrel of his handgun, letting me know he wanted me to roll down the window. Damn. I was so screwed.
“You lost, darling?” he chuckled. He towered over my car, resting his free hand on the roof while he stuck his head in my car and looked around.
“Umm… no sir? I am looking for Griffin. I’d like to talk to him for just a minute, please?” I explained with apprehension.
“Griffin? Sorry, darling. There’s no Griffin here.”
“Are you sure? He has one of those leather vests like yours, and he’s kind of tall with a beard.”
“Yeah, you just described about half of the members of the club. I’m letting you in, but you need to leave everything in your car – no purse, no phone, no nothing. Someone will meet you at the door.”
“Okay?” I answered. I eased up to the main lot, and just like he’d said, there was a man there waiting for me by the back door. He was older than the man at the gate and much more attractive – tall, muscular with beautiful green eyes. I stepped out of the car and said, “Um… hello. The man at the gate said you might be able to help me. I’m looking for a man named Griffin.”
He cocked his head to the side and looked at me like he was sizing me up. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, he answered, “You mean Stitch?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. The only name I have is Griffin,” I explained.
“Come on into the bar. You can wait there while I get him.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect when he opened the door… maybe something kinda like a strip club filled with big, scary men with guns, but it wasn’t anything like that. It was just a bar. Several men were sitting at the counter, and there was an attractive woman standing behind it serving them beers. A couple of them turned and gave me a questioning look, but quickly excused my presence and went back to their conversations.
“Just grab a seat at the bar. I’ll see if I can round him up.”
I did as he instructed and sat down at the opposite end of the bar, hoping to avoid any confrontations. As soon as I sat down, the man called out to the lady behind the bar, “Hey, Cass. Grab the lady a drink while I go find Stitch.”
“You got it, Mav,” Cass answered smiling. She walked over to me and asked, “What can I get ya?”
“A water would be great,” I told her.
“You look like you could use something stronger,” she teased me with a smile. “You sure you don’t want a beer or something?”
“Tempting, but I better stick to water.”
She reached into one of the coolers and pulled out two bottles of water, placing one of them on the counter in front of me and opening the other for herself. “So, you’re a friend of Stitch’s?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” I told her. “Honestly, I don’t really know him at all. He helped me out a few weeks ago, and I haven’t had a chance to thank him.” When I turned my head towards the other end of the bar, I noticed several of the men looking at me. I tried to avoid their stares by taking a drink of my water, but they weren’t easy to ignore.
Cass must have noticed my uneasiness, because she said, “Don’t let them get to you. They’re harmless.”
“Easier said than done. I’ve never been in a club like this before,” I admitted.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I knew that the minute you walked in. The expression on your face said it all,” she laughed.
“That bad, huh?” I smiled.
“Deer in headlights,” she teased. “But it takes balls to come into a place like this without knowing what you’re getting into.”
“Either that or I’m totally insane. My name is Wren, by the way.”
Just as Cass was about to respond, her attention was diverted to the side door where Maverick was walking in with Griffin. His eyebrows furrowed into an almost angry glare when he saw me sitting at the bar. I instantly began to feel nervous. The last thing
I wanted to do was piss him off, but I needed some answers… and help if he was willing to give it.
Maverick stopped at the doorway and watched as Griffin approached me. “Did something happen to Wyatt?” he asked. Tension radiated off of him as he stood there waiting for me to respond. My mind went blank. I didn’t know how to answer him.
“Umm… Wyatt’s fine.”
“Then, what are you doing here?” he questioned. I couldn’t tell if he was mad that I was there, or if he was just worried. Either way, my heart couldn’t stop pounding.
“I’d like to talk to you for a minute, if that’s okay?”
“About?”
Damn. One word… that’s all I got. Embarrassment washed over me and I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming back to the men at the end of the bar. They’d stopped talking among themselves and were now totally focused on us, a couple of them were getting a kick out of our little show. I instantly questioned coming to him for help, and the thought of being wrong about him, made me feel hopeless.
Feeling overwhelmed and scared, I stuttered, “I don’t know. Maybe I’d like to know why you’ve found it necessary to follow my son around and give him a phone without even telling me about it.”
Before I had time to register what was happening, he took a hold of my hand and pulled me out of the bar towards the parking lot. When the door slammed behind us, I started in on him again, “It’s just not right. You can’t just do that without asking me first, or at least having the common courtesy to tell me what the hell is going on. I don’t even know you!”
His fierce expression faded when he asked, “He didn’t tell you?”
“Uhhh… No!” I answered sarcastically. “That’s why I’m here. I have no idea what the hell is going on between you two, and any time I ask Wyatt about it, he says, ‘it’s in the vault!’” The corners of his mouth slowly curved into a sexy grin, and the tension he was carrying in his shoulders seemed to instantly melt away.
“Your boy did good; he keeps his word,” he said sounding pleased. “I told him to keep the phone in the vault… no talking about it, but I meant to his father. Not you,” he explained.