Stitch: Satan's Fury MC

by Wilder, L

  When he mentioned Wren, my gut twisted with worry. “Do you know where your momma is, Wyatt?”

  “N-no,” his voice trembled as the tears continued to pool in his eyes. “I’m scared something happened to her, Griffin. What if my daddy hurt her?”

  “She’s going to be fine. I’m going to make sure of it,” I promised. Fuck. If she wasn’t with them, then where the hell was she? There was only one person that knew, and he was outside with Maverick. Before I could get my hands on Michael, I needed to get Wyatt to the hospital. “I want you to wait here for just a minute. I’m going to see what we can do about your arm. Okay?”

  “No!” he cried. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “I’m not leaving you. I’ll stay right here in the room, okay? I’ll stand at the doorway… it won’t take long,” I told him.

  “Okay,” he agreed.

  I was so torn. I knew Wren was out there, needing me to find her, but I couldn’t leave Wyatt, not when he was hurt like this. I knew better than anyone how scared he must be, and I wasn’t going to leave him until he was ready for me to go. In the meantime, I had to trust that my brothers would be able to find Wren and that they’d protect her until I was able to get there.

  I stuck my head outside the door, looking for Gonzalez and found Maverick standing there with Michael’s face crammed against the side of the building. He had a childlike smile on his face as he held Michael’s arm firmly behind his back, obviously enjoying himself. I nodded in approval, then motioned over to Gonzalez to come to the doorway. When he approached me, I asked, “Got a hospital in this town? The kid has a broken wrist that needs to be tended to.”

  He let out a breath of smoke from his cigarette and nodded. “Yeah. Got a surgeon we use from time to time over at the county hospital. She’ll let us bring him in without asking a bunch of questions. I’ll call one of my boys to bring a cage over,” he offered.

  “Good. Thanks, brother,” I told him.

  Maverick looked over to me and asked, “Did you find out anything about Wren?”

  “Not yet. Wyatt doesn’t know where she is,” I growled, glaring over at Michael.

  “Tell ya what… we’ll take care of the kid, while you tend to his dad,” Gonzalez smirked.

  “You’re wasting your time. I don’t know where that bitch is!” Michael panted. “And Wyatt’s fine… not a damn thing wrong with him. He’s just a pansy assed little shit,” Michael shouted as he tried to pull himself free from Maverick. Grabbing a fistful of Michael’s hair, Maverick pulled his head back and slammed it into the brick wall.

  Noticing the blood dripping from Michael’s nose, I told Maverick, “Take him around back. I don’t want Wyatt to see anything.” I looked over to Q’ and said, “I’m gonna need you to go with us to take Wyatt to the hospital. I want someone I can trust to be there with him after I leave.”

  “Not a problem,” Q’ assured me.

  “That kid in there means something to me, brother.”

  “Understood.”

  Once Maverick and Michael disappeared around the back of the building, I went back over to Wyatt and knelt down in front of him. His eyes grew as big a saucers when I said, “My friend Gonzalez is going to take us to the hospital so we can get your arm looked at. Once we know everything’s going to be okay with your arm, I’m going to go find your momma.

  “Do you know where she is?” he whispered.

  “No buddy. I don’t, but I’m going to find out.”

  “What about my dad? Do you think he knows where she is?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I think he might, so I need to go talk to him for a little while.”

  “My dad isn’t very nice.”

  “Already know that Wyatt. It’ll be fine. Let’s get that arm taken care of.”

  “You think I’ll get a cast?” Wyatt asked. I thought he was nervous about getting a cast until he smiled and said, “I’ve always wanted one. Maybe I can get a blue one like Thomas had last month when he broke his elbow.”

  “Yeah. I figure you’ll get yourself a pretty cool cast out of the deal. And when you’re all fixed up and the doc’s finished, Q’ will take you back to the clubhouse.”

  “I’ve got my bag packed. It’s in the trunk of Dad’s car,” he explained.

  “I’ll take care of it,” I told him. A car horn blew outside, letting me know that Wyatt’s ride had arrived. “They’re here. You ready to go?”

  “I’m ready,” he answered. He slowly stood up and walked over to me, carefully wrapping his good arm around my waist as he gave me a light hug. “Thank you for coming for me, Stitch.”

  Never realized how much a simple hug could mean to me. Having him there in my arms and knowing that he was going to be okay, healed a part of me that I didn’t even know was broken. Without thinking, I leaned down and kissed him lightly on top of his head. After a few seconds, I knelt down and lifted him into my arms, carefully carrying him out to the car.

  Once I had him settled in next to Q’, I headed over to my bike and followed them to the hospital. Thankfully, the doctor was waiting at the backdoor for us when we pulled up. As soon as she saw his wrist, she had him rushed to x-ray. When they returned, she let us know that his wrist was broken, but it was a clean break. She wouldn’t have to set his arm, and he’d only need to wear a cast. Relief washed over me when I realized he was going to be okay.

  I turned to him and said, “Looks like you’re going to get that cool blue cast after all.” Then, I cleared my throat and said, “Wyatt, I’m gonna need you to do me a favor.”

  “What kind of favor?”

  “I need to get going now. I need you to hang here with Q’ while the doctor finishes fixing you up so I can go see about your momma. Can you do that for me?” I asked.

  “Yeah, it’s alright. I like Q’,” he answered. Just before I turned to leave, Wyatt called out to me, “Griffin?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “Please find my momma,” he pleaded.

  “I’ll find her. Don’t worry,” I assured him. So much time had gone by, and I was beginning to worry that I might be too late. The thought of losing Wren tore at my heart in a way that I couldn’t comprehend. In such a short time, I’d come to feel things for her that I didn’t even know was possible for a man like me. I wanted her… needed her… loved her.

  I looked over to Q’ and said, “Call me as soon as you get done.”

  “You got it,” he answered, smiling down at Wyatt.

  I rushed back to the hotel, and when I walked back into the room, Michael was sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands bound behind his back. Maverick gave me a disgruntled look and said, “He isn’t talking.”

  “He will,” I told him, slamming the door behind me. I placed a crowbar on the table, and Michael’s eyes grew wide as he stared at it. I took a step forward, crowding him as I roared, “Where is she?”

  “Already told you. I don’t know where that stupid bitch is,” he grumbled. “I went to the house and got my son. As soon as I had him, I left.”

  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. S
he 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.”

  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.