Stitch: Satan's Fury MC(27)

I took a step forward, stopping just inches from his face, and glared at him. I could smell the fear rolling off of him. Men like him loved to make themselves feel strong and mighty by feeding off of the weak, but he was no fool. He knew I wasn’t weak. He knew I could kill him with my bare hands, and even though he didn’t want me to know it, I could see that he was scared out of his fucking mind. “I’m going to ask you one last time and then things are going to take a very different turn here, Michael.”

“Fuck you! You don’t scare me,” he snarled. “You’re just a piece of shit in a cheap leather jacket. You’re wasting your fucking time. I don’t know where she is and wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”

“You will,” I warned.

“Why do you even care? Why would a man like you want a tight ass like Wren in the first place? You get plenty of easy pussy where you come from,” he snickered.

“You made your choice,” I told him calmly. I reached behind him, cutting the rope that restrained him and set him free. He quickly stood, thinking that I was actually letting him go, but he was wrong… so fucking wrong. When he took a step forward, I reared my fist back and quickly slammed it into his throat, causing him to instantly start gasping for air. When he stumbled back, I grabbed his wrist, twisting it firmly behind his back until I felt it crack against the pressure, crushing his broken bone in my hand. His knees buckled to the floor as he cried out in pain. When I released his hand, he quickly pulled it to him, holding protectively against his chest.

“You know, I’ve seen their records,” I snarled, kneeling down closer to his face. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up at me and said, “Now, you’ve got the same broken wrist that you gave to Wyatt.” I released his head and reached for the crowbar I’d laid on the table, hitting him in the side with enough force to break several of his ribs. When his body dropped to the floor, I told him, “Now, you’ve got the same broken ribs you gave Wren.”

“Please…” he gasped.

“Oh… there’s plenty more, Michael. I know every broken bone… every cut… every fucking scrape. So tell me, Michael. Did you stop when they begged you to stop or did you keep at it? Did you keep hurting them, time and time again?” I asked, slamming the end of the crowbar into his now broken ribs.

Blood trickled from his lips as he cried out again, “Please, I’ll tell you where she is. Just please stop.”





Chapter 21




Wren




While I laid there trying to catch my breath, my mind wandered back to the night I found Wyatt at that diner with Griffin. I’ll never forget how shocked I was to see them sitting there together talking like old friends. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve been freaked out to see Wyatt with a man like Griffin, with all of his bulging muscles and tattoos. But, for whatever reason, I didn’t freak, at least not like I should have. It really didn’t make any sense at the time. He should’ve made me feel intimidated or nervous with his leather jacket and thick beard, instead I felt safe… I felt like maybe I’d been the one that was lost and finally had been found.

From the very beginning, I instinctively trusted Griffin. If there was any way that he could be there for Wyatt, he would be, but there was no way for me to be sure that Griffin was with him now. I just couldn’t wait any longer. I had to get to Wyatt, I had to make sure that he was safe. Using the tips of my fingers as my guide, I felt along the edges of the trunk, searching for anything that might help me find a way out. I couldn’t find the emergency release, so I only had one other option and that was to kick my way out. It took some careful maneuvering with my aching side, but I managed to wedge myself sideways. I placed my feet on the back of one of the seats and pushed with all my might. Nothing. When that didn’t work, I started kicking it, over and over again. I used all my strength, all my will, and kept on trying. I focused on the right side of the seat, continuously hitting it in the same spot until I finally felt it give a little. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to encourage me to keep on going. My side pleaded with me to stop, but I was determined to get the hell out of that damn car. After countless tries, the seat finally broke free. A dim light trickled in from the crack, guiding me out of the back of the car.

I exhaled and inhaled again, trying to bite back the pain as I inched my hands down to my sides and pushed myself out of the backseat. Every muscle in my body hurt when I crawled out, and once I put my feet on the ground, my head swam with dizziness. I felt my stomach tighten as the nausea hit me, so I quickly leaned my back against the car door, trying to make my head stop spinning. I wiped the blood from my brow with hands that were already sticky with dried blood, and when I glanced down at my wrists, I was horrified to see the deep cuts and tears on my skin. I was a complete mess, but I was out.

When I looked around, I realized that I was in some kind of garage or warehouse. It was an old metal building filled with various cars and trucks, and there were large wooden crates stacked along the back of the building. Even though there was a loud hum of a heater running, the place was freezing cold, and it reeked of gasoline and oil. As I scanned the area, I didn’t see any tools or machinery like there would be in a garage, only wooden crates… lots of wooden crates. Curiosity got the best of me, so I walked over to see if I could peek inside one of them. The slats were nailed shut, but I was still able to use the tips of my fingers to move the straw, uncovering the barrel of a gun. When I did the same to the next crate, there was something different hidden beneath the straw. There were several squares wrapped in brown paper that were completely covered in cellophane, reminding me of packages of drugs I’d seen on TV. Feeling anxious, I quickly replaced the straw and took a step back. When I almost tripped over one of the smaller crates, I noticed a door in the back of the building. I started towards it, but stopped when I saw a light coming from an office upstairs. I stood there staring at it, wondering if it might lead me to Wyatt somehow. Even though my first thought had been to just get the hell out of there while I still could, I couldn’t leave – not when there was a chance that Wyatt might be up there, or at the very least a phone so I could call Griffin. Either way, I had to find out.

With the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, I slowly crept up the long metal staircase, and I was almost halfway, when I heard a man’s voice. I stopped, frozen with panic. My heart raced in fear, making me feel dizzy all over again. I held tightly to the rail as I stood there listening, trying to hear what the man was saying. It didn’t take me long to realize that it wasn’t Michael’s voice that I was hearing. The man had an accent, and there were other men in there with him.

“Their cameras still working?” one of the men asked.

“Checked the one outside by the back gate. Made sure they saw us coming in last night,” someone answered. “When are the others gettin’ here?”

“They’ll be here in ’bout an ’our,” one of the men answered with a thick accent.

“How many are they bringing with them?” another voice asked.

“Twenty ’r so,” the man answered. “Maybe more if they can round them up.”

“Good, we’ll need ’em, especially when their enforcer finds out that we got his girl. Would’ve been even better if we had the VP’s, too. Get them both where it hurts for killing Victor,” he growled. “Motherfuckers think they can kill our Sergeant of Arms without blowback? Hell, I can’t wait to put a bullet in his head.”

“Won’t be long before he comes running for her. I don’t figure it will be much longer before he figures out that the guy bitchin’ about wanting his son doesn’t have her,” a man explained.

“And we’ll be ready. Couldn’t have made that work out any better if we’d tried,” one of them grumbled. “The father gave us just the distraction we needed to pull this thing off.”

“Just so we’re clear, their enforcer takes his last breath tonight.”

Alarms started going off in my head, screaming at me to get the hell out of there. I had to find a way to warn Griffin and let him know that he was in danger. I raced down the steps, praying that I wouldn’t fall as I headed for the back door I’d spotted earlier. I slowly eased it open and slipped outside, trying to keep the door from making any noise. Once it shut behind me, I started to run. I needed to find a phone or at the very least, a decent place to hide. As soon as I made it over to one of the large metal containers, someone grabbed me and pulled me into the dark.





Chapter 22




Stitch




He laid there, cowed down on the floor, and I had to fight the urge to kick the motherfucker again. It took all I had to restrain myself but I knew killing him wasn’t an option, at least not yet. “Where is she?”

“They’ve got her,” Michael stammered.

“Who is they, asshole,” Maverick barked.

“I don’t know… I’d been waiting for Wren to come home all weekend… stopped by there a hundred times looking for them, but she wasn’t home. She finally showed up this morning… I just wanted to talk to her… try to work something out, but these guys… they pulled in behind me. Jumped out of some black pickup and p-pointed a gun at me and threat – threatened to kill me,” he stuttered. “I told them that I… I just wanted my son… that they could have Wren.”