Stitch: Satan's Fury MC(28)

I clenched my fists at my side and growled, “Fuck!”

“Then what happened?” Maverick pushed.

“I waited outside. They went in to get her. I think they might have shot somebody. I just wanted to get the hell out of there, so when I saw Wren helping Wyatt out of the ww-indow, … I gr-grabbed him. I saw one of those men come up behind her, and they hit her on the back of the head, hard. Knocked her out cold,” he explained.

Rage surged through me, and I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. I slammed my fist into the side of his face, almost crushing his jaw and shouted, “Where did they take her?”

His hand immediately went to his jaw. Blinking his eyes with panic, he stared at me as he tried to regain his composure, then he answered, “I don’t know. Once I had Wyatt, I left. They were still there when I pulled out of the driveway.”

“Gonna need more than that, you piece of shit. How many were there? What did they look like?” Maverick snarled.

“There were three of them. Looked a lot like you… leather vests and one of them had a big snake tattoo on his arm,” he muttered. “That’s all I know.”

“They have her. Call Cotton and let him know,” I told Maverick.

“On it,” he told me as he stepped outside to make the call.

I looked down at the piece of shit lying on the floor, tempted more than ever to put a bullet in his head, but something stopped me. Even though in my mind he didn’t deserve to live, he was still Wyatt’s father. I was just about to start in on him again when my burner phone started ringing. I quickly pulled it from my pocket and saw that Cotton was calling.

“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?”