by Wilder, L
“We’ve got her. She’s good. Keeping her with us until it’s safe to get her out,” Cotton explained.
Relief washed over me as I said, “Thanks brother. Leaving here in ten.”
“We’re on the west side of the warehouse. Meet us there,” Cotton ordered before he hung up the phone.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket before I nudged him with my boot and said, “Right now, you’re still breathing. You drag your sorry ass back to that car and get the hell out of town. If you come near Wyatt or Wren again… call them, look at them, hell if you even think about them… that will be your end!”
“I got it. I’ll do what you say. I won’t come back,” he assured me.
“Just in case you have any second thoughts,” I said, throwing several pictures at his feet. “You might want to take a look at those.” He took the pictures in his hand, and his face went white, as he looked at all the intimate pictures of him with his married neighbor from across the street, along with several shots of him buying drugs out on the eastside of town. “Is that where all the anger comes from Michael? The drugs… your need to wail on Wren and knock around Wyatt comes from the fact that you’re gay and don’t want to accept it?” I growled. “You afraid your folks will cut you off if they find out?”
“It’s not… what it looks like,” he stammered.
“It’s exactly what it looks like, Michael. You’ve been trying to pretend you’re something you’re not, but there’s no more hiding. No more pretending,” I told him as I placed a small recorder in Michael’s hand. With trembling fingers, he pressed the play button, and the sounds of his voice came barreling out of the small device:
“Stop your fucking whining! I’m sick of hearing it, Wyatt! What the hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just grow the hell up and stop acting so fucking weird?”
A loud slap followed by a muffled cry echoing through the room, letting Michael know that there was actual proof that he’d been hurting Wyatt.
“You need to pull your head out of your ass and start living in the real world.” A commotion rumbled in the background, sounding like Wyatt had just been pushed to the floor. “If you go crying to your momma about this, there will be hell to pay… for both of you. Now, get your ass up before that fucking Mrs. Daniels comes in here to take you home. That bitch is going to try to rat me out for drinking a goddamn beer but she has another thing coming! No one is going to tell me I can’t see my own fucking kid.”
Hearing it again made my stomach turn. The sight of Michael repulsed me, and I’d like nothing more than to beat the hell out of him all over again. But I didn’t have the time to waste on the piece of shit. “Father of the fucking year asshole,” I growled at him as I grabbed the recorder out of his hand.
“How do I know you won’t do something with all this… that you won’t show my folks?”
“You don’t, and if you ever want to see your son again, you better get your shit straight,” I bellowed. Without another word, Michael crawled to his feet and managed to wobble out of the room, just barely making it to his car.
As soon as he was gone, I reached for my phone, checking my messages. I had one from Q’:
Q’: All done. Heading back to the clubhouse now.
I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed for my bike. So much time had been wasted, making the ride to the warehouse even more agonizing. I couldn’t get there fast enough. I needed to see for myself that Wren was really okay. I knew the Python’s would come after me for killing Victor, but using Wren to do it was a mistake they’d soon regret. It was my fault that Wren was taken, and I’d be the one to make these motherfuckers pay for getting her involved.
By the time Maverick and I arrived, the sun had set, and a light fog was settling over the water, making it difficult to see. I spotted my brothers’ bikes several yards away from the warehouse. After parking next to them, we headed towards the west end of the building, trying our best to avoid the lights that lined that dock. It was quiet – too fucking quiet. I pulled out my phone and was just about to text Cotton, when I heard, “Griffin?”
I turned back and was stunned to see Wren standing there off to the side with Cotton, and even in the dark, I could see that she was bleeding. The side of her head and wrists were covered in blood, causing me to wince in the knowledge that she’d been hurt. I wanted to go to her, hold her and comfort her, but I stood there, just staring at her. I was so fucking relieved to see that she was okay, living… breathing, but the fury that was raging through me in that moment made it impossible to move. The thought that someone had hurt her clouded my relief at seeing her and replaced it with an all-consuming anger.
“Griffin!” she cried again as she rushed over to me, wrapping her arms tightly around me. I held her close, letting the warmth of her touch calm me, and when my anger began to subside, I pulled her back so I could get a better look. But after only a few seconds, I found myself pulling her right back to me, holding her tightly against my chest. I didn’t want to let go. I needed to feel her body pressed against mine until my soul was convinced that she was truly okay.
I was still holding her when she asked, “Wyatt? Is he really okay? Cotton said you found him.”
“He’s going to be fine,” I told her as I released her once again. “Q’ is taking him over to the clubhouse.”
“Thank you,” she cried. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to him.”
“Wouldn’t let anything happen to him or you, Wren. And just so you know, Michael won’t cause any more trouble. He’s done.”
“What? What do you mean, he’s done? What did you do?” she asked hysterically.
“I let him know what would happen if he came back around,” I growled.
“And Wyatt? Does that mean he doesn’t have to see him anymore? It’s really over?” she cried.
“It’s over. Wyatt won’t have to see him, not unless he decides that he wants to, and only if that asshole gets his shit together.” The sight of the dried blood on her flesh sickened me, and I could feel the rage beginning to build again as I reached for her hands. Glaring at the rips and tears along her wrists, I growled, “What the hell did they do to you?”
“I’m fine, Stitch. It’s just a few cuts and scratches. I did most of it myself when I broke out of that stupid trunk,” she explained with her voice trembling.
“They had you in a fucking trunk?” I snapped.
“Stop. None of that matters right now,” she started. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
“Not until I kill every last one of them for hurting you,” I roared. She gave me a questioning look, obviously surprised by what I’d just said.
“You can’t go in there. I’ve already told Cotton that they’re expecting you. These men knew you’d come for me, Griffin. That’s why they took me, so you’d come looking. They want to kill you. They think you killed some guy named Victor?”
Cotton stepped over to us and said, “Need to get her back to the clubhouse. Two Bit and Stix can take her.”
When I nodded, Wren fussed, “You’ve got to come, too! You can’t go in there, Griffin. Don’t you get it? I’m scared to death something might happen to you.”
“This is something I’ve gotta do, Wren.”
“But why? Why would you put yourself in jeopardy like that? What is so damn important that you have to go in there right now?” she started, but quickly stopped and stared at me with a pleading look. “Did you? Did you kill that guy… the one they were talking about?”
When I didn’t answer, she grew pale. A twisted look of horror crossed her face when she realized that what they’d said was true. I had killed Victor, and I had no intention of denying it. He was a piece of shit that killed my brother, and he deserved to die. She could see my answer written on my face and was about to say something when gunfire exploded from the warehouse. I pulled her close to me, and with my gun aimed at the back door, I pulled her towards Two Bit. Wren whimpered when one of the Pyt
hon’s started advancing towards us. She gasped and the muscles in her body stiffened with shock when I pulled the trigger. Her body trembled in my arms when his body fell to the ground. I tucked her behind me, her chest against my back, as I tried to shield her from the gunfire. Once I’d reached Two Bit, he pulled her from my grasp and with Stix guarding them both, he rushed her to the main road where our bikes were hidden.
I stood there watching until I knew they were gone and no one had followed them. With the memory of Wren’s horrified expression still on my mind, I went back to find my brothers, determined more than ever to end things with the Pythons once and for all.
Chapter 23
Wren
‡
My mind was reeling while I sat there on that cold metal counter, waiting on Doc. Apparently I was going to need stitches for the cut on my forehead, and Doc would need to check my ribs. It was the first time I’d been alone to think about everything that had happened, and it was all too much to comprehend. I’d been knocked out, kidnapped, locked in some guy’s trunk, and managed to get away, only to discover that Griffin had killed a man. No, strike that. He’d killed more than just one. Hell, he killed someone right there in front of me, and god knows what he did to Michael. My throat tightened, and I could feel the tears building behind my eyes. I fought it. I didn’t want to cry, knowing that if I started I wouldn’t be able to stop. Wyatt was waiting for me, and I didn’t want him to see me upset.
Upset.
Upset was the biggest understatement of the year. I felt like my world had just stopped spinning, like everything I’d ever thought to be true was wrong. There was no denying it – I was in love with Griffin. I’d given him my heart, and he was a killer. He didn’t even blink an eye when I asked him about killing Victor, like he hadn’t done anything wrong. I didn’t understand it. The time we’d spent together made me think that he was a man I could share my future with. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when I thought about him walking into that living room wearing that crazy outfit. I loved that he was able to be playful with me, and that he could open up to me about his past. When we’d made love, I felt a connection to him that I’d never experienced before, and I knew in my heart that he’d felt it too. He was good to me… and to Wyatt, showing me a love that I’d never known. He looked after my son, made sure he was safe, and I trusted him. But the question still remained – could I accept him for who he was, the good and the bad?
I’d been waiting for twenty minutes before Doc came in. He was an older man with kind eyes and a warm smile. There was something about him that instantly set me at ease. He stepped closer, examining the laceration on my forehead and said, “Looks like you got pretty banged up tonight.”
“Little bit, I guess,” I admitted.
“Gonna need to give you a few stitches,” he said as he gave me a shot to numb the area. “Heard you got away all on your own.”
“Not exactly,” I laughed, but stopped when I felt him start to stitch my wound.
“Ballsy move busting out of that trunk like you did,” he told me as he continued to work on me.
“I guess. I didn’t think much about it at the time. I was just trying to get to Wyatt,” I laughed. “How is he doing?”
“He’s got a few bumps and scratches, but he’s going to be just fine. Pretty excited about the new cast he’s sporting,” Doc said smiling.
“Leave it to Wyatt to be excited about wearing a cast. I give it a week. I doubt he’ll feel the same way when that thing starts to itch.” I felt him close off the last stitch, and then he covered the wound with a small bandage.
“Probably not,” he said as his hands dropped down to my ribs, checking for any breaks. “They aren’t broken, but they’re pretty bruised. You’re going to be sore for a couple of days. I’ll give you some pain relievers and something to help you sleep.”
“Okay,” I answered. “Hey… what about that guy that came to my house? I think his name was Clutch. Can you tell me how he’s doing?”
“Ah, it’d take more than a couple bullets to get that guy down,” he chuckled. “He’ll be back on his feet in a couple of days.”
“Good,” I told him. Feeling overwhelmed, my gaze dropped down to the floor as I thought about another man being shot. He was a friend of Griffin’s, and he’d been shot while trying to protect me.
“What’s with the look?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s all just a lot to take in,” I admitted.
“It is, but don’t make this into something it’s not,” Doc told me. “Been in the club since I was Stitch’s age. Met my wife and raised my children here. We’re all one big family… actually a better family than most folks have. Some pretty rough times have rolled through here, but sometimes you gotta go through hell to get to the good. And Wren, there’s a lot of good in this place. You’ve got a good man that cares a lot about you and your son.”
“I know,” I told him. “It’s just hard to believe that a man like Griffin could actually kill someone. It’s just a side to him that I didn’t expect,” I grimaced.
“He didn’t just go out and kill someone for shits and giggles, Wren,” Doc scolded. “These people that he killed… have raped, beaten and killed members of our family, and he did what he had to do to protect us. He’s got the ultimate job as our protector… we all trust him with our lives,” he explained.
I took a second to let it all sink in, trying to understand and accept everything he’d just said. After all I’d been through with Michael, I couldn’t imagine putting Wyatt or myself in any further danger, but deep down I knew Griffin was nothing like Michael. From the very start, he’d only been kind, protective and loyal to both of us, and from everything Doc had just told me, he was the same way with his brothers.
“I guess Henley was right about him after all… he is like Batman,” I muttered to myself.
“You’re all set. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks for patching me up… and for explaining things a little bit,” I told him with a smile.
“Anytime, darlin’. Wyatt’s out in the TV room with Dusty watching some cartoon,” he told me.
After taking two pain relievers, I walked out of the small room and into the main hall, searching for Wyatt. I didn’t really know my way around the clubhouse yet, so it took me a little while to find him. He was sitting on the sofa watching a little blonde haired boy play a video game. Wyatt was completely enthralled with the game, but the minute he spotted me, he jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to me as he shouted, “Momma!”
The power of Wyatt’s hugs never ceased to amaze me. As soon as he wrapped his arms around me, all of my worries seemed to just fade away. “Hey there, little buddy.”
He hugged me tightly and said, “I knew he’d find you. He promised that he would, and he did.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“He found me, too, and he took me to get my arm fixed,” he told me as he pulled back to show me his cast. “It’s blue like the one Thomas had.”
“Looks pretty awesome,” I smiled, thinking that Griffin had pulled through once again. Not only had he saved Wyatt from Michael, he’d taken him to the hospital, taking care of him when I couldn’t.
“You think Griffin will sign it for me?”
“I’m sure he’d love to.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked, looking at the bandage on my head and wrists.
“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. Who’s your friend?” I asked, trying to distract him.
“That’s Dusty. He’s been showing me all these tricks that some girl named Henley taught him,” he explained. “They’re pretty cool.”
“I’m sure they are. Have you had anything for dinner?” I asked.
“Dusty’s mom made us some chicken nuggets,” he smiled. “There was macaroni and cheese, too, but it wasn’t as good as yours.”
Laughing I said, “Good, I’m glad you got something to eat, but it’s getting late. It’s about time for you to ge
t into bed.”
“Ah, Mom. It’s not that late. Just a little while longer. Please,” he pleaded.
“Please,” Dusty shouted from the sofa.
“You win,” I answered. “Ten more minutes, and then it’s off to bed.”
I sat down on the sofa next to Wyatt and listened to Dusty explain all the different tricks he’d learned. The pain relievers were starting to kick in, so I rested my head on the back of the sofa, resting my eyes for a minute. I tried my best to stay awake, but with the calming sounds of the boy’s voices chatting back and forth made it too hard to resist. I’m not sure how long I’d been asleep when Henley came in and woke me.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” she smiled. “How ya feeling?”
“Pretty good considering,” I answered as I looked around the room for Wyatt.
“I sent the boys to put on their pajamas and brush their teeth. Hope that’s okay.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s almost ten,” she answered, looking down nervously at her watch.
“I must have dozed off,” I told her. “Have the guys made it back yet?”
“No, and it’s starting to worry me a little. We haven’t heard anything from them since Two Bit brought you back, and that was hours ago.”
A surge of panic rushed over me when I thought about Griffin being at that warehouse in the middle of all that gunfire. I couldn’t stop myself from asking the same questions over and over in my head. Why didn’t he leave with me? Why would he put himself in danger like that? I knew the answer. It was simple, really. He couldn’t leave. Leaving would make him something he’s not… the kind of man who’d walk away, and after listening to everything that Doc had said about him and his life at the club, I was beginning to understand why. Griffin’s very existence was defined in being there for others, protecting his brothers and protecting those that couldn’t protect themselves, and he would never walk away from that. And if I was being truthful, it was the very thing that I loved most about him. He’d been there for us all along, ultimately protecting us both from Michael and his endless abuse, and I knew deep down that he’d always be there.