by Wilder, L
Chapter 5
Wren
‡
“I’m so sorry, Wren. I went over everything with the judge, but he just wouldn’t listen,” Mrs. Daniels explained. She’d called me right after she left the courthouse to let me know what the judge had decided about suspending Michael’s visitation with Wyatt.
“So that’s it?” I asked.
“No. We still have a chance to clear this up. The judge said he would make his final decision at the hearing next month,” Mrs. Daniels explained.
“I just don’t see how he could believe him! The judge saw the pictures, and he knows Michael’s history. It doesn’t make any sense for him to take his side, now,” I cried. I never dreamed that things would turn out the way they had. I felt so defeated, and my heart ached as I listened to Mrs. Daniels tell me everything that happened during their meeting.
“You know better than anyone how good Michael is at turning the blame around. He’s never admitted that he was at fault for anything he’s done. Why would he start now?”
“The whole thing is absurd. How could he blame me, especially with those bruises on Wyatt’s arm?” I snapped.
“His lawyer is really good. He twisted everything around and told the judge that Michael was trying to protect him when he grabbed Wyatt. He said that he was trying to stop him from running out the door.”
“That’s bullshit. Michael didn’t even care that Wyatt had ran away.”
“I told him all that, but his lawyer told the judge that you taught Wyatt to leave. He convinced him that you encouraged Wyatt to run away from him,” she continued.
“I did, but it was only for emergencies. I told him only to leave if something went wrong,” I explained.
“I know that, dear. It’s just that Michael’s trying to make it out like you’ve been trying to turn Wyatt against him, using his Asperger’s to your advantage,” she explained softly. I knew it was difficult for her to break the news to me, and she hated that she couldn’t help me. “Wren, I know this is hard, but we’ll get this all sorted.”
“I hate him,” I confessed.
“Don’t blame yourself, dear. No one would.”
“What now?” I asked.
“Talk to your lawyer and make sure she knows what is going on. Has Jenny made any leeway with Wyatt?”
“She’s tried everything during their sessions, but he hasn’t told her anything.” I felt my frustration building to an all-time high as I told her, “I don’t know what else to do.”
“It will be several weeks before the hearing. Hopefully, she will be able to get through to him before then.”
“God willing. Thank you for letting me know what happened. I appreciate all of your hard work. Please call if you hear anything else,” I told her.
“You know I will. We’ll get through this,” she promised.
When I hung up the phone, I was tempted to call Rachel to cancel our plans to go to the movies. With everything that had happened, I wasn’t in the mood for company, but Wyatt had been looking forward to going for days.
Just as I was reaching for my purse, Wyatt came to my doorway smiling and said, “It’s 11:11, Momma. Are we going to do this thing or what?”
“Yeah, buddy. Let’s roll,” I answered as I grabbed my keys. “We’ll get there in time to grab some popcorn before the movie starts.”
“With butter?” he asked with a pleading look.
“Yeah, with butter.”
“Awesome,” he answered as he bolted towards the door. “I want a soda with mine, too!”
When we got in the car, I motioned to Wyatt to fasten his seatbelt. As soon as it locked into place, Wyatt turned to me and said, “Did you know when Charles Schulz was a kid, he had a terrier named Spike? The dog understood over fifty words, and that’s how he got his idea for Snoopy.”
“Fifty words? That’s pretty incredible,” I laughed. “I’d like to have a dog like that someday.”
Wyatt continued to tell me one fact after the other about the Peanut’s characters, only stopping when we pulled up into the movie theater’s parking lot. Rachel and Annalise, dressed in their most fashionable fall outfits, were already waiting for us at the front door. I couldn’t help but smile when I noticed that they were wearing matching boots. Rachel always made the effort to look her best, even when she was just going to a kid’s movie, and she made sure that her daughter did the same. They both started waving when they saw us park the car. As I turned off the engine and started to gather my things, Rachel pointed to her watch and motioned for us to hurry.
When we finally reached them, Annalise greeted Wyatt with a big smile and said, “I’m gonna get chocolate covered peanuts!” She was a year younger than Wyatt, but acted so much older. Her wavy blonde hair was twisted into a loose bun that bobbed back and forth when she spoke.
Wyatt instantly turned to me and asked, “Can I get some, too?”
“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 focus
ed 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
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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.
“Doc, you need to get the med room fully stocked and prepared for anything. We need to be war ready. Stitch, have Q and Two Bit go through all the guns and ammunition with you. I want a full inventory of whatever either of you need ASAP,” Guardrail ordered, pointing to the four of us.
“I stay ready, but I’ll go through and make sure we’ve got whatever the women and children might need as well,” Doc responded.
“I keep the armory war ready, just plan on Q and Two Bit being unavailable until we’ve cleaned and rechecked all our ammo,” I responded. “I’ll get you a full report and a list of anything we might need to Guardrail, as soon as possible,” I assured him.
“It’s going to take some time to put a plan into action, so until we do, consider everyone on high alert… eyes on the women and children at all times,” Cotton ordered the table as he hit the gavel, ending the meeting.
“I’m heading out,” I announced as I stood to leave. “Going to get Emerson and bringing her back here.”
“I’ll help Two Bit and Q with the arsenal till you’re back,” Maverick offered.
I gave him a quick nod as I stood up to leave. I had to get a move on it. Every minute felt like hours wasted – I had to get to my sister.
Guardrail stopped me before I left and said, “I’ll have Cassidy get her a room ready.”
“Thanks, brother. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Even though it was just over an hour drive to Emerson’s apartment, it’d been almost six months since I’d seen her. She was in her final year at the University of Washington, and she’d been busy with her classes. I didn’t expect her to be happy about leaving her studies to come back to the clubhouse with me but unfortunately for her she didn’t have a choice. I had to do whatever it took to keep her safe, regardless of how she felt about it.
I knocked on Emerson’s door several times but got no answer. I was starting to lose my patience, so I pulled out my cell and sent her a text. Seconds later, her door flew open and Emerson
lunged at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck. “I can’t believe you’re really here! I’ve missed you so much!”
“Missed you, too,” I told her. “Need to talk to you.”
She pulled back, giving me a questioning look. It was a familiar look, one that I’d become accustomed to over the years. Emerson was a worrier. Guilt over our past troubled her, making it difficult for her to believe that I really had the life I wanted. Emmerson tucked her long brown hair behind her ear and said, “Something’s wrong.”
“Let’s go inside,” I told her. I followed her inside the small apartment. I glanced around, noticing how much the place suited her. It felt like a home, comfortable and inviting.
She sat down at the kitchen table, crossing her arms as she prepared for the news, and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Gonna need you to come back to Clallam with me. The club has run into some trouble and taking you back with me is the only way I know to keep you safe.”
“What? I can’t go anywhere right now, Griff. I’m in the middle of the semester!”
“I know, Em, and I get that your classes are important to you, but there’s no other choice. You’re not safe here, and I’m not leaving here without you.”
“Just wait a minute. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would I need to come back with you? I don’t have anything to do with your club.”
I reached in my pocket, pulling out several of the pictures that were included in my file and placed them on the table in front of her. She leaned forward and her eyes grew wide as she studied all the different images of her around campus. “Who took all of these?”
“Someone who knows you’re important to me, so they’ll try to use you to get to me. I’m not going to let that happen, so you’re gonna need to stay at the clubhouse until we get this thing sorted out,” I explained.
“How long is that going to take?” she huffed with defiance.
“No idea. Could be a few weeks. Could be more.”
