Stitch: Satan's Fury MC

by Wilder, L

  “There’s no doubt that there will be more. We can count on that, but you’ve got us. Been allies with your club for as long as I can remember, even back when your uncle was sitting in that chair. Best thing he ever did was passing the reigns down to you. Just let us know what you need,” Rip confirmed. “But if they have the kind of numbers I think they’ve got, you’re gonna need more than just us at your back.”

  “Aware of that,” Cotton answered. “Already talked to the Northern Caballero’s. They’re in.”

  “And with the Nomads we know in the area, we’ll be able to take them on,” Maverick added.

  “We’re armed and ready. I suggest you do the same,” Cotton warned.

  “Been ready. We’ll head over to the warehouse now and secure the perimeter. Just let us know what you want us to do from there,” Rip assured him.

  “Thanks, brother. We’re right behind you,” Cotton told them as they stood to leave. When the last of the Forsakens had pulled out of the gate, I set out to find Wren and Wyatt, figuring they were getting settled in their room by now. As soon as I walked through the door, I got a bad feeling as I scanned the room and didn’t see any sign of them. I reached in my back pocket for my phone and called Clutch. I called three times, but he didn’t pick up. It wasn’t like him not to answer, confirming my thoughts that something wasn’t right.

  Not wanting to waste any time, I headed straight to my bike. I’d almost made it to the parking lot when Maverick stopped me. “Hey, what’s the rush? Is something going on?”

  “Wren and Wyatt aren’t here, and Clutch isn’t answering. Headed over there now to see what the hell is going on,” I told him, trying not to panic.

  “I’ll go with you,” he told me as he motioned for Q’ and Two Bit to follow us.

  When I pulled through the gate, I didn’t look back to see if my brother was behind me. I knew he was there, same as Q’ and Two Bit; they were always there when they were needed. Maverick could see that I was worried, but there was no way he knew just how panicked I really was. Not knowing what was going on with Wren was killing me. I tried to push it out of my thoughts, trying to block the ‘what ifs’ that were racing through my mind, but it was useless. I knew in my gut that something was wrong, really wrong. I turned the throttle forward, pushing my bike to its limit. I didn’t care how fucking dangerous it was to drive at that speed, I had to get there. When I finally pulled up to her house, her car was still parked in the driveway. I got off my bike and hurried inside. When the door swung open, I found Clutch sprawled out on the floor, bleeding out all over the kitchen. Maverick and the boys came in behind me. Each of them rushing over to help with Clutch.

  “Oh shit!” Q’ blurted out.

  Maverick dropped to his knees and placed his fingers at Clutch’s throat, checking for a pulse as he tried to talk to him. “Clutch… brother, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me, man? Open your eyes,” he demanded.

  With a strained moan, Clutch tried to say, “Wr…en.”

  I knelt down over him, and inches from his face I pleaded, “What is it, Clutch? You gotta tell me.”

  When he tried to take a breath, his face grimaced in pain, but he finally managed to say, “Her… ex, and…”

  “And what, Clutch?” I shouted as I tried to get him to respond, but it was too late. He’d passed out from the pain and blood loss.

  “Call Doc and get the brothers to bring over a cage,” Maverick told Q’. “Tell them to make it fast. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  While Q’ made the call, Maverick did what he could to stop the bleeding. Clutch had two gunshot wounds to the chest, one close to his shoulder and the other was lower by his hip. Doc had dealt with much worse, so I had no doubt that he’d be able to help him. He’d have to.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told him.

  He nodded, and I headed down the hall to see if there were any signs of Wyatt or Wren. When I passed Wyatt’s room, I noticed that most of his things were gone. He’d packed up most of his stuff, but there was no suitcase. I left his room and walked across the hall to Wren’s. Her suitcase was still laying on the bed, but there was no sign of either of them in the house. I went back to Maverick and said, “No trace of them. That motherfucker came in here and took them!”

  “Just stop for minute. Take a step back, and think about this. This is your thing, Stitch. You’ve gotta treat this like it is anybody other that Wren and Wyatt, forget that this is about the people you care about. It’s the only way you’re going to be able to find them,” Maverick explained.

  I rested my back against the wall and took a deep breath. I knew he was right. I was letting my emotions get in the way. I tried to clear my thoughts, think only of the facts that I knew about Wyatt and Wren and all of their dealings with Michael. I was trying to think, but it was damn near impossible with my brother laying there on the floor, looking paler by the minute. Thankfully, the cage finally pulled up out front to get him. Two Bit opened the door for Doc, leading him quickly over to Clutch. Once Two Bit helped Doc load him in the SUV, they were both gone, leaving me alone with Maverick and Q’.

  When they pulled out of the driveway, Maverick turned to me and said, “Okay, brother. How do we find this kid and his mother?”

  “The cell phone. I gave him a cell phone a couple of weeks ago. It has a tracker in it,” I remembered.

  “I’ll call Mike,” Maverick told me.

  “What do you need me to do?” Q’ asked.

  “Just hold tight. Once, we know what direction they’re headed, we’re going after them,” Maverick answered.

  I paced back and forth, glancing periodically over at the pool of blood on the kitchen floor. Each time I saw it, the more infuriated I became.

  “Stitch,” Maverick warned.

  “I know,” I growled. He just didn’t get it. He had no fucking idea. He had a family – Henley, Gavin, and for most of his life, he had parents that gave a shit. I’d only had Emerson, and now, for the first time, I had a chance for more. I had a chance to know what love really was, to truly feel it and give it back in return. I couldn’t lose it. Not now, not when I was so close. Wren was mine, and I wasn’t about to let anything happen to her.

  “They’re out on 101 headed towards Clearwater. About an hour out,” Q’ announced.

  “Want me to call Gonzalez? See if he can help us out?” Maverick offered.

  “I’ll call him,” I told him as I walked out the front door and headed towards my bike. Before I started my engine, I dialed Gonzalez’s number. The Caballero’s were our allies, and Gonzalez owed me more favors than I could count. It was time for him to pay up.

  “Yell-o?” Gonzalez answered.

  “Need your help,” I told him. “Blue 2007 Toyota is coming through your area. Need you to stall him.”

  “Got an ETA?” Gonzalez asked.

  “Any minute. Be ready. Coming in on 101 headed to Clearwater. Slow him down,” I demanded.

  “On it brother.”

  “Good. I’m on my way,” I told him as I hung up my phone and started up my bike.

  Chapter 19

  Wren

  ‡

  Everything hurt. An excruciating, throbbing pain pulsed through my head, making it difficult to make a clear thought. I had no idea where I was, but my head was in such a deep fog that I couldn’t even make myself try. It was hard to breathe, my lungs burned with every single breath like someone was sitting on my chest. I just wanted to lie there, wait for the pain to go away, but something was gnawing at me. I needed to wake up. I had to wake up, but it was just too hard. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I had no idea what was going on with me.

  Breathe.

  Slow… steady.

  Damn. Why was it so hard to breathe? I inhaled through my nose, trying to keep my breaths short and shallow, so it wouldn’t hurt so much. It didn’t help. Nothing helped, and the darkness was pulling at me. I was about to just give into it, when it came to me. The one thing that could pu
ll me out of my haze… Wyatt. My chest tightened with panic, making my lungs burn even more. When I tried to move, a pain shot to my side, reminding me of the time that Michael had broken my ribs during one of his meltdowns. I stilled myself and tried to call out to Wyatt, but only muffled cries echoed around me. When I tried to move, I realized that my arms were bound behind me. I called out again, but something was covering my mouth. Duct tape was sealed across my lips, another reason it was so hard to breathe. I could feel my heartbeat pound against my chest as panic washed over me. I was losing it. I needed to focus.

  Breathe.

  Slow… steady.

  I couldn’t fall apart. Not now, not when Wyatt needed me. I twisted my wrists back and forth, trying to loosen the ties around my hands. Ignoring the pain, I rocked my body from side to side and quickly realized that I was confined in some kind of box or maybe the trunk of a car. Not only was I bound and gagged, I was locked away, all alone.

  Alone.

  I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I couldn’t stop the panic from setting in as the memories came rushing back. My heart started to beat rapidly in my chest as I thought back to the night Michael had locked me away in that damn closet. It was just once, but it made a lasting impression on me. I’d told him I was going to a movie with a friend. When I headed towards the door, he slapped me… hard. Before I had time to react, he pushed me into the closet and kicked me in the side with his boot when I tried to fight back. Seconds later the door slammed shut, and not only did he lock it, he propped a chair against the doorknob to ensure that I couldn’t get out. He had a thousand reasons why he’d gone to such an extreme, but that night I’d seen the light. There were no limits to Michael’s abuse, and the thought of my son being alone with him scared me to death. I had to get to Wyatt before Michael hurt him. Nothing else mattered. I fought against my restraints again, determined to get my hands free, but it only made it harder for me to breathe with that damn tape across my mouth.

  Breathe.

  Slow… steady.

  I moved my wrists slowly, back and forth, until I felt my skin begin to tear against the rope. I stopped and rested for a few minutes before trying again… and again… and again. After what felt like forever, I finally started to feel the rope give around my wrists. Blood trickled down my hands as I twisted them back and forth, making them slippery. It was just enough for me to pull one hand through the rope, letting it fall free around my other hand. I quickly lifted my hand and removed the blindfold and the tape from my mouth. I laid back and took a long, deep breath, letting my eyes adjust to the dark surroundings. I was no better off without the blindfold; I still couldn’t see a thing.

  I tried to lift myself up, but the stabbing pain in my head forced me back down. I reached up along the back of my neck, searching for the source of pain. I carefully ran my hand over the large knot on the back of my head, and blood covered my fingertips. I was bleeding, but it wasn’t bad enough to keep me down. I had to get the hell out. I had to get to Wyatt. I felt along the curved edges of the wall, and I quickly determined that I was indeed in the trunk of a car. Now, I just needed to find a way out.

  Chapter 20

  Stitch

  ‡

  As soon as we pulled into Clearwater, I pulled over and gave Gonzalez a call. “What’s the word?”

  “I got ’em,” Gonzalez told me over the phone. “Got lucky when the prick stopped for gas. Added a little agua to his tank when he went in to buy a pack of cigarettes,” he laughed.

  “Where is he now?” I asked.

  “Guess they figured it was gonna take ’em a while to fix his car, so they gave him one of their rentals. Followed him to the hotel down on Lumbar Street. It’s gonna take ’em a few hours to fix his car, maybe longer if Dan isn’t working in the garage today. His son, Billy, don’t know shit about engines. It could take him forever to figure out it was just water in the tank,” Gonzalez laughed.

  “Did you see who he had with him?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Had a kid in the backseat.”

  “You didn’t see a woman with them?” I asked.

  “Nah, just the kid from what I could tell,” he answered.

  “I’ll be there in five. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere,” I demanded.

  “Sitting right outside his room, brother. This guy ain’t going nowhere. He’s been in there cussing and screaming for the past fifteen minutes. Just came out to the car and grabbed himself a fifth of bourbon, so it won’t be long ’till he’ll settles down,” he chuckled.

  I didn’t like the sound of that, not one fucking bit. I knew very well what Michael was capable of, and I hated the thought of Wyatt and Wren in the room alone with him.

  “If he starts in again, distract him,” I ordered.

  “You got it,” he chuckled.

  Wren should’ve been in that car and not knowing where she was gave me a sick feeling in my gut. When I couldn’t shake the feeling, I made a call to Cotton. As soon as he answered, I asked, “Need eyes on the warehouse. Gonzalez didn’t see Wren with Michael.”

  “We’re here now,” Cotton confirmed.

  “Have you seen any sign of her?” I asked anxiously.

  “Not yet. Only one of the cameras is still working, and there has been no sign of anyone coming or going since last night. We’re securing the perimeters before we go in,” Cotton explained.

  “Fuck,” I roared. “We need to get in there. See if she’s there!”

  “We’ve gotta be careful with this Stitch. Don’t know how many guys they’ve got with them,” Cotton started.

  “There’s no time to be careful. They might have Wren!” I let out a deep breath and said, “You just gotta see where I’m coming from here, Cotton.”

  “I know damn well where you’re coming from, but you need to reign that shit in, brother. We’re playing this thing smart. Period,” he answered.

  “I’m claiming her, Cotton,” I told him. “I can’t lose her.”

  “And you won’t. If she’s there, we’ll get her,” he assured me. “First, we get eyes on them… see what we’re up against. Then, we’ll make our move.”

  “Understood. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I told him before I hung up the phone.

  With Maverick and Q’ following behind me, I pulled back on the highway and pushed the throttle forward. I couldn’t stop thinking about Wren, and the way that she looked at me when we were standing in her driveway. Until that moment, I hadn’t been sure how she truly felt about me, but seeing her standing there, pleading with me to come back to her… I knew. And knowing I felt the same way about her, I was even more determined to get to her. I sped through traffic, weaving through the cars that lined the street. Even though Gonzalez was there to keep an eye on things, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking the worst, and by the time we pulled into the hotel parking lot, I was on the brink of losing it. As soon as I parked my bike, I headed over to Gonzalez. He was standing under the stairway smoking a cigarette, and he hadn’t changed a bit since the last time I’d seen him. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing his cut with his handgun noticeably tucked away at his side.

  “Long time no see, brother,” he smirked. “Yo, Maverick, good to see you, man.”

  I had no intention of wasting time with small talk, so I looked over at the door behind him and asked, “Is that the room?”

  “Yeah, it’s been pretty quiet for the last few minutes,” Gonzalez told me. “This guy’s a real asshole, if you ask me.”

  I nodded and made my way over to the door. I took a deep breath and knocked. When I heard a commotion inside, I covered the keyhole so he couldn’t see me standing there. After several seconds, Michael called out, “What do you want?”

  “Room service. Got you some extra towels,” I answered. With one good shove, I could’ve knocked the door down, but I didn’t want to frighten Wyatt. I had to be patient. As soon as the door opened, I reached in and grabbed Michael by the throat, lifting him off the ground as I hauled
him outside. He tried to fight against my hold, but then, I reared back and slammed my fist into his gut, completely knocking the breath out of him. He barreled over as I shoved him towards Maverick. “Hold on to him,” I ordered as I walked into the hotel room, quickly searching for Wren and Wyatt.

  At first the room looked empty. The bottle of bourbon was resting on the table next to the bed, and the TV was blaring with some old war movie. After checking the bathroom, I was about to go back outside when I finally saw him. Wyatt was crouched down in the corner, partly hidden by the window drapes, and he was cautiously cradling his arm in his lap. My gut twisted into knots when I caught sight of the swelling and bruising forming on his obviously broken wrist. I couldn’t take it. Seeing him look so damn scared, all balled up in that corner took me right back to that godforsaken barn. All the hell I’d been through came rushing back to me, and I wanted to scream for it to stop. I didn’t want to remember, didn’t want to think about how I’d spent night after night terrified out there in that fucking barn. I loathed that feeling of being weak and scared and so fucking alone. I wanted those feelings gone, to stay forgotten. But there sat Wyatt, feeling exactly the same way I’d felt all those years ago. Rage coursed through my veins, and I had to fight the urge to slam my fist through the wall. I took a deep breath trying to push back the anger, knowing the last thing I needed to do was scare him even more. He didn’t even notice me standing there as he stared down at his arm.

  “Wyatt?” I called out to him.

  His head quickly lifted, exposing more cuts and bruises on his face, and when his eyes met mine, tears began to roll down his cheeks. “Stitch! You came! I knew you’d come,” he cried.

  He tried to stand, but grimaced with pain when his arm shifted to the side. Before he had a chance to try again, I rushed over to him and picked him up off the floor, carefully sitting him down on the bed next to me. I glanced down at his arm and asked, “Your dad do that to you?”

  “Yeah… it hurts,” he cried. “I tried to get away from him so I could get back to Momma. But, he grabbed me and held on real tight. I think he broke it,” Wyatt whimpered. “I want my momma.”