Read Stitch: Satan's Fury MC Online

Authors: L Wilder

Tags: #Romance, #MC

Stitch: Satan's Fury MC (9 page)

“Umm… Wyatt’s fine.”

“Then, what are you doing here?” he questioned. I couldn’t tell if he was mad that I was there, or if he was just worried. Either way, my heart couldn’t stop pounding.

“I’d like to talk to you for a minute, if that’s okay?”

“About?”

Damn. One word… that’s all I got. Embarrassment washed over me and I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming back to the men at the end of the bar. They’d stopped talking among themselves and were now totally focused on us, a couple of them were getting a kick out of our little show. I instantly questioned coming to him for help, and the thought of being wrong about him, made me feel hopeless.

Feeling overwhelmed and scared, I stuttered, “I don’t know. Maybe I’d like to know why you’ve found it necessary to follow my son around and give him a phone without even telling me about it.”

Before I had time to register what was happening, he took a hold of my hand and pulled me out of the bar towards the parking lot. When the door slammed behind us, I started in on him again, “It’s just not right. You can’t just do that without asking me first, or at least having the common courtesy to tell me what the hell is going on. I don’t even know you!”

His fierce expression faded when he asked, “He didn’t tell you?”

“Uhhh…
No
!” I answered sarcastically. “That’s why I’m here. I have no idea what the hell is going on between you two, and any time I ask Wyatt about it, he says, ‘it’s in the vault!’” The corners of his mouth slowly curved into a sexy grin, and the tension he was carrying in his shoulders seemed to instantly melt away.

“Your boy did good; he keeps his word,” he said sounding pleased. “I told him to keep the phone in the vault… no talking about it, but I meant to his father. Not you,” he explained.

“He said that he’s supposed to call you if he needs help?”

“Yeah… that’s why I gave him the phone.”

“You didn’t think that maybe you should talk to me about that first?” I asked.

“Not at the time. Wanted him to be able to reach me if he needed me and knew that giving him that phone would be the easiest way to do it. That’s why I told him I was giving it to him… so I could be there… make sure nothing else happens to him or you.”

“What? Why would you do that? You don’t even know us! You can’t make promises like that to a boy like Wyatt. He’ll think you meant what you said.”

“I did mean it,” he clipped. “Meant every word.”

I was lost for words and stood there stunned with disbelief. I looked up at him, studying the determined look on his face, and for some strange reason, I believed him. “But why? Why are you doing all of this?”

“I’ve seen the police reports… your medical records. I know what your ex did to you. I know you were able to fight your way out, but you couldn’t do the same for Wyatt. I can see the fear in your eyes. I know you’re worried that he’ll hurt him like he hurt you. I’m going to make sure that he doesn’t.”

There was a storm raging behind those beautiful gray eyes – a storm I could see myself being pulled into, even though part of me thought I should fight it. I stared at him in awe, realizing that I knew nothing about him, but there was something that drew me to him. Why was he so touched by Wyatt? What had happened to him to make him want to protect a little boy and his mother? I wanted to ask, but I was afraid. All I knew was I needed help, and for some inexplicable reason… I trusted him. I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly had an all-consuming need to touch him. His eyes widened with surprise when I placed my hands on his shoulders, standing high on my tiptoes, and pressed my lips against his cheek.

Chapter 8

Stitch


I
’m not one
to be taken by surprise – ever – but seeing Wyatt’s mother sitting in my bar… that got me. I should’ve seen it coming. I saw the way she looked at me at that movie theatre, all wide-eyed and totally freaked out. There was no way she was going to let that shit go and that was on me. If I was going to keep my promise to Wyatt, then I’d have to remember that he had a mother that actually gave a damn about him, and she’d do whatever it took to protect him – even if that meant coming to my clubhouse to bust my balls for trying to help.

I hadn’t realized just how beautiful she was, though. Maybe it was the way she looked at me… I don’t know. I just knew she was a knock-out in a totally out of my league, untouchable sort of way. Her hair was pulled up away from her face, exposing the soft curves of her face, and her clothes were classy, but sexy at the same time. With her hands on her hips, she stood there staring at me with those coal black eyes, giving me hell for trailing her kid. I liked that she didn’t back down from me. I couldn’t think of a time that a woman had gotten to me the way she did, and I was finding it more and more difficult to ignore the strange pull I felt towards her. The woman was tough, but there was a delicate, almost fragile side to her – a side I felt an overwhelming need to protect. It’d been three days since she’d paid her little visit to the club. Three days since she pressed her beautiful full lips against my cheek, and I still couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Emerson stepped out into the hall, blocking my path to the backdoor and asked, “Where are you running off to now?”

She’d only been at the clubhouse for a couple of days, but she was already adjusting. She’d finally gotten the chance to meet Cass and Henley, and she spent most of her time hanging out with them. She seemed to be getting along pretty well, but that didn’t mean she was happy about how little I’d been around. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be helped. When I wasn’t busy handling club business, I was gone seeing about Wyatt and his mom. My time was limited and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” I responded without really giving her an answer. Discussions about the club or Wyatt were off limits. Period.

“Look… I know you’ve got
shit
to do and all that, but I’d like to spend some time with my brother.”

“I hear ya.”

“So, tomorrow? Can you spare some time to hang with your sis for a little while?” she asked with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Yeah. I can do that,” I promised. “You settling in okay?”

“Yeah. It’s actually pretty cool here. Everyone has been really nice, and Cassidy and Henley have been really great. I see why you love it here so much,” she smiled. “I’m really happy that you have this – the club, your brothers. It’s good to see you doing so well.”

“You got something to keep you busy while I’m gone?” I asked her.

Emerson looked over her shoulder towards the back of the bar and smiled when she saw Henley playing that old Pac-Man arcade game. She was wearing one of her classic, old t-shirts and jeans with her hair pulled back into a pony tail, and we both smiled as we watched her body jolt from side to side as she tried to beat the game.

Laughing, Emerson shook her head and said, “Yeah, I’ve got some studying to do, and Henley and I are about to finish up a Pac-Man battle. I think she’s kind of obsessed with it.” She leaned in closer and with her hand covering her mouth, she whispered, “I beat her high score last night, and let’s just say that she didn’t take it very well.”

“Let’s go, chica!” Henley shouted. “It’s your turn. Let’s see if you can beat that!” Henley danced around excitedly as she waited for Emerson to take her turn.

“Give her hell,” I told Emerson as she gave me a quick hug and headed over to Henley.

“You’re going down, Vintage!” Emerson mocked, just before taking over the controller. It was good to see her happy here. It made it a little easier to leave her knowing that she had something to keep her occupied.

The parking lot was busy tonight. Some of the brothers were making a fire and having a few beers to let off some steam. I was just about to get on my bike when Cotton called out to me.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“It’s about the warehouse,” he started. “We now know that’s where they wanted to set up their deliveries. They’ll be looking for an alternate location, and there are several warehouses in that area for them to choose from. I want us there first.”

“We’ll check the area, see if we see anything suspicious, and get the surveillance set up. If they show, we’ll know about it.”

“I got Big Mike on it. I told him I want the best he’s got,” Cotton informed me. Cotton was the kind of man that wanted things done right the first time and accepted no excuses for anything less.”

“You got it. Has he gotten back to you with anything?”

“He’s still gathering intel on the King Pythons Syndicate and any club that they might be affiliated with,” he explained. Their club has the numbers, but not the kind to pull off a hostile takeover like this.”

“Yeah, they’ve got some help. We’re going to need to pull in some resources,” I suggested.

“Won’t be a problem. We’ve got our allies for a reason. They’ll back us,” he assured me.

I started for my bike and said, “I’ll get them going on the surveillance.”

“Good. That where you’re headed now?” Cotton asked, grinning at me like a fucking Cheshire cat.

“No,” I answered as I got on my bike and started the engine. “I’ll get back to you.”

It was still early. There was no reason for me to be there, but I needed to check on them, see for myself that everything was okay. The sun had gone down, and the chill of the night bit at the back of my neck as I parked my bike at the edge of the driveway and killed the engine. Just knowing they were on the other side of those four walls made the tension I’d been carrying around all day begin to subside. Her house was just a small brick house, nothing out of the ordinary, but Wren had done her best to make the place look like a home. There were fresh mums sitting on the porch, and she had some kind of fall decoration hanging on the front door. The lights were on in the kitchen, and I could see her standing at the window. She was talking to someone, but then stopped when she noticed me sitting there. Seconds later the front door opened and Wren was walking over to me.

Her lips curled into a warm smile as she approached me and said, “Thought I might have scared you off.” Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of black leggings with a sweater. Even without trying, she was gorgeous.

“I’ve been around.”

“I’m sure you have,” she laughed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this whole stealth protector thing you have going on, but I’ve decided to just take it for what it is. I mean, it’s not every girl that has her very own macho motorcycle guy sitting out in their driveway, waiting to save the day. Oh, I wonder if the neighbors have spotted you. I’m surprised they haven’t called me about it.” I must have made her nervous, because she was rambling. Too damn cute. “So… um, I’m making spaghetti. Would you like to come in for some?”

“No, that’s not necessary,” I told her.

“It’s just spaghetti, Griffin. Besides, I know Wyatt would be excited to see you.” I’m sure she could see that I was considering it, so she pushed a little harder. “You don’t want to pass this up. I make a mean pot of spaghetti and my meatballs are homemade.”

“You don’t get told no very often, do you?” I poked.

“Not really. It’s a character flaw of mine,” she admitted.

I’d barely made it off my bike when Wyatt came barreling out of the front door and shouted, “Hey Stitch!”

“Hey there, dude. Heard your mom made spaghetti.”

“Yeah, but I’m not really a fan of spaghetti,” Wyatt admitted. Then he leaned in closer to me and whispered, “You should come eat some with us, then you could eat some of mine.”

“I think I can help you out with that,” I laughed as I followed them inside. A hint of garlic filled the air as I walked into the small kitchen and sat down. It wasn’t a new place, but Wren had done a good job in making it a home. The cabinets had a fresh coat of paint, and she’d hung plaid curtains over the windows. It was nice. I watched as she walked over to the old stove and pulled out the bread, quickly placing the hot pan on the counter.

“What can I get you to drink?” Wyatt asked.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Mom makes me drink milk at dinner time. She says it’s good for my bones. I’ve told her that there is calcium in my Flintstone’s vitamins, but she still makes me drink it.”

“Milk will be fine.”

Quietly, Wren started filling the table with food while Wyatt poured me a large glass of milk. I was mesmerized watching their little dinner time routine, and I wondered if it was always like that with them. Even though it was just the two of them they were a family and I was curious how the whole thing worked. I couldn’t even remember sitting down to a meal without being afraid that something would set my grandfather off. It was different with them. It was nice, really nice.

When everything was ready Wren said, “Okay, boys. Dig in.”

“Looks really good, momma,” Wyatt told her. Then, he cut his eyes over to me and gave me a mischievous smile. I was liking the kid more all the time.

“I saw that, Wyatt,” Wren told him, nudging him playfully with her elbow.

“It’s messy, Momma, and the noodles are hard to get on my fork,” he complained. He placed his fork in the center of his plate and started to twirl it around, trying to gather up the noodles. When he lifted his fork, most of the noodles dropped back down to his plate. “See… it’s hard.”

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