“Just get in the car, Emerson,” I ordered.
“You know Grandfather is going to have a shit fit if he finds out about this,” she warned.
I didn’t have time to worry about his bullshit, so I decided to ignore her comment and head to my bike. By the time we made it back to the clubhouse, most of the guys were gone, busy tending to their families. Emerson reluctantly followed me down the hall, obviously feeling nervous about being here. Her eyes anxiously skirted around the room as she tried to acquaint herself with her new surroundings. I was pleased to see that Guardrail had kept his promise, and Emerson’s room was ready when we walked in. There wasn’t much to it – just a bed, TV and a small desk in the corner, but I hoped that she wouldn’t be here long. When things settled down, she could get back to school and finish her classes. After helping her get everything sorted, I headed for the door and said, “Got something I need to take care of.”
“Wait! You’re leaving me?” Emerson asked, her eyes wide with worry. I knew she was overwhelmed with everything, and it would take her some time to get adjusted to being at the club. But in time, she’d figure things out, and my brothers would be there to make sure she had everything she needed.
“Won’t be gone long.”
“Can I go with you?” she asked. “Please.”
“Can you keep your mouth shut? No questions?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but I’ll try,” she said smiling.
She wouldn’t be able to stop herself, but I still agreed to let her tag along. I hadn’t had much time to sort through the entire envelope of information Big Mike had given me on Wyatt and his mother, but I’d seen enough. I’d read the report on what had happened the other night when Wyatt turned up at the diner, and even with all the bruises, his dad had managed to keep his visitation. Just like I promised, I planned to be there to make sure nothing happened.
We’d been sitting outside of Michael’s house for almost twenty minutes when Emerson finally asked, “So who’s in the house? Is it the guys that are after you club?”
“No.”
“Okay, then, what are we doing here?” she pushed.
“I said no questions.”
“Come on, Griff. You gotta give me something here. I mean, really. You’ve got to admit that it’s kinda weird that we’re just sitting out here in the dark, staring at this house like we’re waiting for some bomb to go off,” she fussed.
“Just keeping an eye on things,” I explained.
“What things? A drug deal? A possible shoot out?” she asked, nudging me with her elbow.
“You watch too much TV.”
“You are a pain in the…” she started, but clamped her mouth shut when she saw Wren’s car pull into the driveway. She watched silently as Wyatt opened the front door of the house and ran over to his mother. Her face lit up when he wrapped his little arms around her waist, giving her a tight hug. My chest tightened as I watched them together, realizing how much they both cared about one another. Wren kissed her son on the top of his head and led him to the car. Neither of them acknowledged Michael standing at the front door as they pulled out of the driveway. He finally shut the door, and without missing a beat, Emerson turned to me and asked, “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“No,” I answered as I started up my bike. How could I explain it to her, when I didn’t understand it myself?
Chapter 7
Wren
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