“Sure, now let’s get moving,” I told them as I nudged Wyatt towards the ticket counter. After we got our tickets and snacks, Wyatt and Annalise raced to the theatre. They fussed back and forth until they found the perfect spot to sit. Rachel and I trailed closely behind and managed to find two seats directly behind our two little chatterboxes.
Once the kids were settled, Rachel turned to me and said, “So, what’s with the look?”
“What look?” I asked, feigning my most sincere smile.
“The look that makes me wonder if I have enough money in the bank to bail you out of jail. What’s going on?” Rachel asked.
There wasn’t any point in trying to avoid her questions. She wouldn’t let it go until I told her everything, so I confessed, “Michael managed to convince the judge that everything that happened with Wyatt the other night was just a misunderstanding.”
“No way! You mean he actually believed that asshole?” Rachel whispered.
“Yeah, he did. And to top it all off, I’m worried that the judge might actually believe that I’ve been manipulating Wyatt by trying to turn him against Michael,” I explained.
“Well, that’s ridiculous. You would never do that. Besides, Wyatt is old enough now to decide that sort of thing for himself,” Rachel snickered.
“I haven’t had the heart to tell Wyatt that he has to go back over there this week. I’d hoped that the visitation would be suspended or something.”
“Michael needs his ass kicked. Plain and simple,” Rachel huffed. She turned to me, with her eyebrow perched high and said, “You know… I know people.”
“No you don’t, and as tempting as that may be, I think I’ll have to pass on taking out a hit on my ex-husband,” I laughed.
“Just know that you have options,” Rachel giggled.
The credits were still rolling when we got up to leave, and Wyatt started to tell Annalise some of the things he’d learned about all the Peanut characters. She quickly became bored with all of his miscellaneous facts and asked to go to the restroom. When she was finished, we all headed out to the parking lot. As soon as I opened the door, Wyatt bolted towards the car. I was about to call out to him, but the words got stuck in my throat when I saw Griffin, the biker from the diner in the parking lot. Wyatt, my normally reserved child, raced over to the burly man on a motorcycle like he was a long lost friend.
The entire scene seemed surreal as I watched them start to banter back and forth like it was something they’d done a hundred times. Wyatt smiled from ear-to-ear while he stood there on his tiptoes talking to his unusual new friend. Griffin glanced over in my direction as he handed Wyatt some kind of black box, and after giving me a brief nod, he started up his engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Wyatt shoved the object in his back pocket and waved as Griffin drove out onto the main road.
Rachel leaned over to me and whispered, “What the hell was that all about?”
“I have no idea,” I confessed. I honestly couldn’t believe what I had just seen. A thousand questions raced through my brain as I looked at my son. His eyes were still focused on the road, watching as his biker friend disappeared into traffic.
“Was that him? The guy from the diner?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah,” I responded.
“You little hooker! You didn’t tell me he was hot,” she snickered.
Ignoring her, I walked over to Wyatt and said, “What did he just give you?”
“I’m not supposed to say, momma. It’s in the vault,” he pouted.
“No, it’s not. Show me,” I demanded.
He reluctantly reached in his back pocket, pulling out a small black phone and handed it over to me. I scrolled through the settings, and I was shocked to see that my number and another number I didn’t recognize had been added to the contacts. I couldn’t decide if I was furious or thankful that Griffin had given Wyatt a phone. I had been considering getting him one myself, but I always ended up talking myself out of the idea, thinking he was too young or Michael might end up taking it from him. I was standing there, staring at the phone screen when it happened. Rage. I couldn’t believe that he, a complete stranger, had the audacity to give my child a phone without my permission. “He gave you a phone! What in the world was he thinking?”
“It’s in the vault, momma,” Wyatt said, reaching out and trying to take the phone from my hand.
“No, Wyatt. You can’t keep this,” I scolded.
“What? Why? He gave it to me,” Wyatt whined. I was getting frustrated, and the parking lot was getting busy with people coming and going from the movie theater. I slipped the phone into my back pocket, without another word, and I headed for the car.
Chapter 6
Stitch
I’d only been home a couple of hours when Cotton called everyone into church. He didn’t need to explain why we’d been called in, but I knew it had something to do with whatever was on that fuckin’ laptop I’d dropped off earlier. When I walked into the clubhouse, I went straight down the hall and headed into church. All eyes looked towards me, and I quickly realized that I was the last one to get there. My brothers were already gathered around the table, grumbling curses under their breath. They were all anxiously waiting to see what the huge pile of folders Big Mike had was all about. I took my seat, and Prez welcomed me with a nod as he hit the gavel.
The room silenced immediately as Cotton cleared his throat and said, “Looks like our friends up North have been busy. As we expected, everyone sitting at this table has a similar file – background checks, medical records, personal history. Big Mike has folders for each of you with everything they’ve been able to uncover,” he informed us, with a chin lift towards Mike, letting him know it was time to deliver the news. The room crackled with tension as the brothers impatiently watched Big Mike pass out the folders to all of us.
When he approached Maverick, Big Mike gave him a troubled look as he handed him the file, letting me know the information inside wouldn’t be good. Maverick’s eyes momentarily roamed over the letters of his name, then he eased the folder open, quickly scanning the papers inside. His calm demeanor instantly changed, his face twisting in anger as he carefully flipped through the pages; the anger literally vibrated off of him as he looked over to me, telling me without words how bad it really was. I was the last to receive my folder. Big Mike placed it on the table in front of me, stepping to the side as soon as it was delivered.
“Fuck,” I grumbled under my breath as I looked at the thick folder of information. We all knew they had shit on us, that was no surprise, but the magnitude of information before me was not expected.
“It’s one thing for them to come after us, trying to end our charter, but coming after our families… that’s a death sentence,” Cotton growled as I opened my file.
I flipped my folder open, and an all-consuming rage instantly coursed through my veins when I saw Emerson’s face staring back at me. My breath quickened to a doglike pant as I sifted through the endless pictures of my sister. Every last detail of her life was in the file. They knew what she fucking drove; they had her fucking address, her class schedule – everything down to her work time sheet. The motherfuckers even had the police report of my parents’ car accident and endless information on my grandparents. I didn’t bother looking at what they had on me. They knew who I was, what I could do. They had to know that I would be coming for them. I had to fight the urge to get up and leave that instant. I wanted to find and mangle each and every one of the motherfuckers who had been watching us.
“They’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get this much intel. They’re not going to give this thing up without a fight,” Cotton explained. He glanced down at his folder and ordered, “Clutch, I want you watching over Cass. Don’t let her out of your sight.” Cotton didn’t have an Old Lady or any kin that I knew of, but he did have Cassidy. When she rolled into the club looking for a bartending job, none of us missed the way he looked at her. He’d had that same lustful eye since, and even though he’d never claimed her as his own, we all knew she was off limits to the rest of us. He never said the words, but I had no doubt that his folder included pictures of Cassidy.
“What the fuck? They even have Henley’s birth certificate. What the hell were they planning to do with all this shit?” Maverick roared.
“Mike is still working on that. There’s more. Turns out we aren’t the only ones the Python’s have been looking into,” Cotton said as he tossed a stack of files on the table. “They got the same intel on all the brothers of the Forsaken Saints.”
“Does Rip know?” Maverick questioned. Rip was the president of the Forsaken Saints and Lily’s father. Even though we hadn’t had many dealings with them, we’d always considered them to be an ally.
“Put a call into him earlier,” Cotton answered. We all knew Maverick wanted to know if Lily and John Warren were included in Rip’s file, but he managed to show restraint and didn’t push for more information. Even though Maverick’s brother, Gavin, had been declared John Warren’s father, Maverick would still want to make sure he was safe.