Free Stitch: Satan's Fury MC by L Wilder

explained. “You saw how he acted when he showed up at the movies the other day. Wyatt was so excited to see him.”
    “Yeah, he was pretty tickled.”
    “I was sort of thinking… maybe this biker guy could get Wyatt to talk about everything.”
    “You’re going to ask some stranger to talk to your son? Oh, Wren, I don’t know… I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
    “I know it sounds crazy, but think about how Wyatt looked at him, how excited he was to be talking to him. I’ve never seen him like that with anyone before,” I explained. “Rach, I’m desperate. At this point, I’m willing to try anything. Wyatt may never open up to me and this may be my only chance to get through to him. I have no idea how this will play out, but I have to try, Rach. I have to do something. Just tell me how to find him… please. I promise to be careful,” I pleaded.
    Long seconds passed before she finally exhaled a heavy sigh and said, “He’s a member of the Satan’s Fury MC, and from the patches on his cut, it looks like your guy is one of the leaders.”
    “I have no idea what any of that means. Just tell me what I need to do.”
    “The clubhouse is just outside of town out on Highway 113. You’ll have to keep an eye out for it. Trees block the entrance, and they’ll have a man guarding the gate. You’ll have to get past him first. If you make it that far, you shouldn’t have any problem finding him,” she explained. I didn’t bother asking how she knew so much about these men, knowing she’d have some wild story that would only make me more nervous about going.
    “I’m going to head over there now, so I’ll need you to pick up Wyatt from school.”
    “Okay, just be sure to call me the minute you leave there,” she demanded. “And please, please, please be careful. Promise me!”
    “I will,” I promised.
    I tried to block out all the nagging doubts that were bombarding my brain as I followed Rachel’s directions to the Satan’s Fury clubhouse. The not knowing was driving me crazy. I had no idea what it was like inside a motorcycle clubhouse, or what these biker people were like. If I took the time to dwell on my uncertainties, I would definitely chicken out. I just had to believe that the people at that club were just like anybody else, that they wouldn’t try to kill me on the spot. I was doing pretty well until I pulled up to the gate and a young heavy set man walked over to the car door. He was wearing one of those leather vests with a white patch along the side pocket that said prospect, and his arms were covered in brightly colored tattoos. He tapped the glass with the barrel of his handgun, letting me know he wanted me to roll down the window. Damn. I was so screwed.
    “You lost, darling?” he chuckled. He towered over my car, resting his free hand on the roof while he stuck his head in my car and looked around.
    “Umm… no sir? I am looking for Griffin. I’d like to talk to him for just a minute, please?” I explained with apprehension.
    “Griffin? Sorry, darling. There’s no Griffin here.”
    “Are you sure? He has one of those leather vests like yours, and he’s kind of tall with a beard.”
    “Yeah, you just described about half of the members of the club. I’m letting you in, but you need to leave everything in your car – no purse, no phone, no nothing. Someone will meet you at the door.”
    “Okay?” I answered. I eased up to the main lot, and just like he’d said, there was a man there waiting for me by the back door. He was older than the man at the gate and much more attractive – tall, muscular with beautiful green eyes. I stepped out of the car and said, “Um… hello. The man at the gate said you might be able to help me. I’m looking for a man named Griffin.”
    He cocked his head to the side and looked at me like he was sizing me up. After an uncomfortable moment of silence, he answered, “You mean Stitch?”
    “Honestly, I have no idea. The only name