With an audible huff, I sat back down on the sofa, pulling my laptop in my lap and grumbled, “Mr. Baggy pants doesn’t do threats.”
I didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smiling. I could feel it. His good mood radiated off him, making the entire room light. I felt so at ease with him, happy. We spent most of the afternoon just sitting in that living room, enjoying each other’s company while I worked on my paper. I loved that he was so patient, and how he understood that my classwork was important me, never making me feel like I needed to rush. As the day passed, he made himself busy with odd jobs around the house, quietly working on his computer or doing small projects outside. There were a couple of times that I heard him talking on the phone, and I became concerned when he raised his voice, growling at someone on the other end of the phone about a warehouse.
Moments later, he walked into the room, and I could see that his lighthearted demeanor had disappeared. He was wearing his cut and a pair of jeans that actually fit, and his body seemed tense. Something was weighing on his mind, and his good mood was quickly fading. Feeling guilty that I might be keeping him from something, I said, “You know, you don’t have to entertain me. If you have something you need to do….”
“I’ve got to take care of a few things,” he said, forcing a smile. “Maverick and a couple of the other brothers are coming by for a minute. We’ll be out in the garage, but you can call me if you need anything.”
“Okay,” I answered. Henley and Cassidy had already warned me about club business, so I knew not to ask him what was going on. It felt strange not talking about something that seemed so important to him, but I kept my mouth shut as I watched him fiddle with his computer. His eyebrows furrowed into a scowl when he read whatever information he’d pulled up on the screen. Something was going on – something that obviously concerned him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with that phone call.
He was still focused on his computer when the rumble of motorcycle engines drew his attention to the driveway. Without a word, he shut his computer down and walked over to me, giving me a light kiss on the lips before heading out the front door. I could hear their muffled voices as they greeted one another, and then everything fell silent. Curiosity washed over me, making me want to jump up and peek out the window, but I stayed put. Instead, I pulled out my phone and was surprised to see that I had several text messages from my mother.
Mom: I don’t want to worry you, Wren, but there is a strange man on a motorcycle outside of the house. He seems to be watching us. Do you know anything about this? 10:45 a.m.
Mom: He followed us to the Science Museum. 1:35 p.m.
Mom: Your father is about to go out there and ask him what he is doing. 2:15 p.m.
Mom: Your father asked him. He wouldn’t tell him anything. Said he was just doing what he was told to do. 2:35 p.m.
Mom: Your father was out there talking to him for a very long time. He thinks they are friends now. 2:36 p.m.
Mom: I think I should call the police. 2:38 p.m.
I had no doubt that Griffin had something to do with the biker in the driveway, and the last thing my mother needed to do was call the police. Thankfully her last text was just a few minutes ago, so hopefully there was time to stop her before she made the call. The phone only rang once when she answered, “Hello?”
“Mom, don’t call the police,” I demanded.
“Wren, this man has been sitting out there for hours, and he’s not the only one. I’ve seen other of these motorcycle men come and talk to him. It’s strange,” she explained. “Do you know these men?”
“Uhh… yeah, I do.”
“Are you going to tell me who they are?” she pushed.
“They are just trying to keep an eye out for Wyatt, Mother. It’s not a big deal.” I knew the minute those words came out of my mouth that I’d just said the wrong thing.
“Not a big deal? Seriously? There are men on motorcycles sitting in my front yard, Wren. They look like those men from those movies, and I’m pretty sure he has a gun. Then your father goes out there and talks to him, like he can do anything about it,” she huffed. “These men look dangerous!”
“I’m sorry. I know this is hard to believe, but I trust them. They are going to make sure that Wyatt is safe. That’s all you really need to know,” I explained.
“Safe? From what?”
“I don’t want to worry you about all ….”
“Wren, I am your mother!”
“Yeah… and you’ve got enough to worry about with Grandma Pip and Dad’s retirement. There’s no point in me…”