Cotton: Satan's Fury MC

“If you aren’t feeling better by tomorrow, you should let Doc check you out.”


“Okay. Enough about me. You gonna tell me what the Old Man had to say?” Henley smirked. I rolled my eyes at her, and when I didn’t immediately answer her, she kept at it. “You know, you took the whole old man thing to another level,” she laughed.

“Stop it, Henley. Cotton is not old!”

She leaned forward and with a mischievous grin, she whispered, “Don’t get me wrong. The man is hot… and since he shaved that god awful goatee, he’s smokin’… but yeah… he’s still old.”

“He’s only forty-four years old. That’s not old!” I knew she was just trying to mess with my head, but I couldn’t help but feel defensive. I was crazy about him, and since she was my sister, a part of me needed her approval. “And I kinda liked the goatee.”

“No, you didn’t! He looks way better without it. Besides, now I’m not so tempted to call him sir,” she laughed. Feeling frustrated, I grabbed a towel and started cleaning the counter. My mind instantly went to Cotton, remembering some of the moments we’d shared together over the past year, and I realized I never really thought of Cotton as old—far from it. I’d seen glimpses of another side to him—a fun, youthful side—where he was truly happy, and I actually got to see him smiling. I can still remember the deep rumble of his laughter when he took me out on an unexpected day of exploring. It was one of the last warm days before winter, and we were just supposed to go for a quick run for the club, but his little detour took me on an adventure I’ll never forget.



“Got something I want to show you,” he announced as he turned down a gravel road. His SUV jolted from side-to-side when it hit one of the many potholes along the old road, but Cotton never let off the accelerator. I had no idea where he was taking me, but he was obviously eager to get there. When the truck started climbing up the mountain, making the engine hum as it resisted the steep incline, curiosity started to get the best of me.

“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.

“A special place,” he announced, and when he smiled, I could see the kid in him, carefree and ready for anything. “It’s somewhere I used to go with my brothers when we were kids.”

When I was hit with the familiar scent of the ocean, I realized we were headed to Cape Flattery. I’d been there many times with my family, but we’d never taken the route Cotton was taking. It was filled with sharp turns, and once we’d made it to the top of the mountain, we began our descent. It was fast, but I felt safe with Cotton. Even back then, I trusted him with my life and knew he’d never let anything happen to me. It took almost forty-five minutes for us to reach our final destination, and it was worth every second.

As soon as he put the truck in park, he got out and walked over, quickly opening my door. He took a hold of my hand and helped me down out of the truck, quickly leading me toward an old dirt path. I’d been on several trails at the Cape, but never like the secluded trail Cotton was leading me down. The path was winding and steep, and covered with fallen leaves and branches, and I was captivated by Cotton’s smile as he rushed us toward our destination, dodging and jumping over any obstacles that blocked our way. We were like two kids searching for lost treasure on a deserted island, both of us excited by the thrill of the hunt. The path was less than a mile long and ended abruptly at the edge of the Pacific Ocean. The view was spectacular. We were just a few steps away from the crystal clear water when Cotton reached for me, wrapping his arms around my waist so I wouldn’t fall.

“Whoa,” he laughed. “It’s farther down than it looks.”

I looked out at the rolling waves and crystal clear water, and I couldn’t wait to put my feet in. “Can we get down there?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered with a devilish grin. “But it isn’t exactly easy. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Are you doubting me, Cotton?” I asked as I placed my hands on my hips.

“Not for a minute.”

He took a few steps forward and then eased himself down onto a large rock. As soon as he had his footing, he reached out his hand and helped me down. It took several tricky moves before we made it safely down from the cliff. When I was done brushing the dirt from my shorts, I looked up to him and said, “You’ve done that a time or two, haven’t you?”

“A time or two.”

The waves were too rough for a swim, so I just took off my tennis shoes and walked along the edge of the water. When he walked up next to me, I asked, “Do you come out here often?”

“I used to when I was a kid. My brothers and I would spend most of our summers out here exploring. I just don’t have the time to come down much anymore.”

“It’s really beautiful. I can see why you like it.”

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