“He’s got a few bumps and scratches, but he’s going to be just fine. Pretty excited about the new cast he’s sporting,” Doc said smiling.
“Leave it to Wyatt to be excited about wearing a cast. I give it a week. I doubt he’ll feel the same way when that thing starts to itch.” I felt him close off the last stitch, and then he covered the wound with a small bandage.
“Probably not,” he said as his hands dropped down to my ribs, checking for any breaks. “They aren’t broken, but they’re pretty bruised. You’re going to be sore for a couple of days. I’ll give you some pain relievers and something to help you sleep.”
“Okay,” I answered. “Hey… what about that guy that came to my house? I think his name was Clutch. Can you tell me how he’s doing?”
“Ah, it’d take more than a couple bullets to get that guy down,” he chuckled. “He’ll be back on his feet in a couple of days.”
“Good,” I told him. Feeling overwhelmed, my gaze dropped down to the floor as I thought about another man being shot. He was a friend of Griffin’s, and he’d been shot while trying to protect me.
“What’s with the look?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s all just a lot to take in,” I admitted.
“It is, but don’t make this into something it’s not,” Doc told me. “Been in the club since I was Stitch’s age. Met my wife and raised my children here. We’re all one big family… actually a better family than most folks have. Some pretty rough times have rolled through here, but sometimes you gotta go through hell to get to the good. And Wren, there’s a lot of good in this place. You’ve got a good man that cares a lot about you and your son.”
“I know,” I told him. “It’s just hard to believe that a man like Griffin could actually kill someone. It’s just a side to him that I didn’t expect,” I grimaced.
“He didn’t just go out and kill someone for shits and giggles, Wren,” Doc scolded. “These people that he killed… have raped, beaten and killed members of our family, and he did what he had to do to protect us. He’s got the ultimate job as our protector… we all trust him with our lives,” he explained.
I took a second to let it all sink in, trying to understand and accept everything he’d just said. After all I’d been through with Michael, I couldn’t imagine putting Wyatt or myself in any further danger, but deep down I knew Griffin was nothing like Michael. From the very start, he’d only been kind, protective and loyal to both of us, and from everything Doc had just told me, he was the same way with his brothers.
“I guess Henley was right about him after all… he is like Batman,” I muttered to myself.
“You’re all set. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks for patching me up… and for explaining things a little bit,” I told him with a smile.
“Anytime, darlin’. Wyatt’s out in the TV room with Dusty watching some cartoon,” he told me.
After taking two pain relievers, I walked out of the small room and into the main hall, searching for Wyatt. I didn’t really know my way around the clubhouse yet, so it took me a little while to find him. He was sitting on the sofa watching a little blonde haired boy play a video game. Wyatt was completely enthralled with the game, but the minute he spotted me, he jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to me as he shouted, “Momma!”
The power of Wyatt’s hugs never ceased to amaze me. As soon as he wrapped his arms around me, all of my worries seemed to just fade away. “Hey there, little buddy.”
He hugged me tightly and said, “I knew he’d find you. He promised that he would, and he did.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“He found me, too, and he took me to get my arm fixed,” he told me as he pulled back to show me his cast. “It’s blue like the one Thomas had.”
“Looks pretty awesome,” I smiled, thinking that Griffin had pulled through once again. Not only had he saved Wyatt from Michael, he’d taken him to the hospital, taking care of him when I couldn’t.
“You think Griffin will sign it for me?”
“I’m sure he’d love to.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked, looking at the bandage on my head and wrists.
“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. Who’s your friend?” I asked, trying to distract him.
“That’s Dusty. He’s been showing me all these tricks that some girl named Henley taught him,” he explained. “They’re pretty cool.”
“I’m sure they are. Have you had anything for dinner?” I asked.
“Dusty’s mom made us some chicken nuggets,” he smiled. “There was macaroni and cheese, too, but it wasn’t as good as yours.”
Laughing I said, “Good, I’m glad you got something to eat, but it’s getting late. It’s about time for you to get into bed.”
“Ah, Mom. It’s not that late. Just a little while longer. Please,” he pleaded.
“Please,” Dusty shouted from the sofa.