Cotton: Satan's Fury MC

“Well, I’d say whatever it is, it can’t be good. It’s been too fucking long, and she wouldn’t come all the way from Alaska just to catch up on old times,” Guardrail clipped.

Guardrail was there when Sara left for college. He’d just patched in around the time her father was killed by a member of a rival club. Like the rest of us, he was there to witness the fallout between her mother and the club. It wasn’t good. Needing someone to blame, her mother cut ties with everyone involved with the club and pushed her daughter to do the same. She wanted Sara to start a life outside of the Satan’s Fury MC, so she sent her off to college in another state, making her leave everything she cared about behind. Knowing in the end it was for the best thing for Sara, I never tried to stop her. She was beyond brilliant and had a talent with technology like I’d never seen. Hell, even Big Mike would have trouble going up against her, and I didn’t feel right holding her back, preventing her from being everything she could be. When I heard about her success in college and later with her own security firm, I knew it’d been the right decision. That didn’t mean it was easy. Hell, it damn near broke me to see her go, and Guardrail knew it.

I ran my hand down the back of my neck, trying to ease some of the building tension, and said, “You two stay close. I need to talk to you about what Big found last night when I finish up with her.”

Just before I turned to leave, Maverick said, “We’ll be here.”

“Cotton,” Guardrail called out.

I turned back to him and said, “Yeah?”

“Be prepared, brother. She’s was a beauty before, but now… she’s a total knockout,” he warned.

Trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, I turned and headed for the bar. When I walked in, Sara was sitting with her back to me. She was looking down at her phone, completely focused on the screen, and didn’t even realize I was standing behind her. Guardrail was right. She’d grown into a beautiful woman. She was still the same Sara, but there was an elegance to her that hadn’t been there before. Her chestnut hair was shorter than I remembered, cut in some trendy style that rested just below her shoulders. It suited her, just like the dark denim jacket and black leggings she was wearing. I cleared my throat as I sat down beside her, drawing her attention to me. When she finally turned to face me, a thousand memories came rushing back, slamming me right in the gut, and I had to fight the urge to turn away. Those damn eyes, so fucking blue you’d think they were plucked straight from the sky, were staring at me with such intensity I almost lost my breath.

“Hey,” she said softly. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah. Too long,” I clipped. I took a deep breath as I tried to sort through the blur of thoughts racing through my head. Fuck. I wanted to slam my fist on the counter and yell at her, releasing all of the pent-up feelings raging inside me. I wanted an explanation. I deserved to know why she hadn’t contacted me, not even once over the past twenty-five years. The only way I knew anything about what was going on in her life was Doc. Sara’s mother trusted him and confided in him from time to time, telling him Sara had gotten married and then divorced when her piece of shit husband cheated on her. But all that happened years ago. I wanted to know what had made her come back now, what was so damn important that she’d come to me after so much time had passed. But I couldn’t do it. She was Sara, the girl who stole my heart when I was a kid. She looked like the same girl, sounded the same… even smelled the same. I inhaled, and the familiar scent of her Channel No. 5 triggered an unwanted memory, making it difficult to even look at her. I cleared my throat and asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Sara?”

“I… umm…” she stammered. Her back stiffened with resolve as she continued, “I came because I needed to talk to you.”

“Ok. Then talk.”

“Don’t be like that, Cotton. It was hard enough to come here like this at all. I don’t need you giving me a hard time on top of it.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “I know I should’ve come sooner. I thought about it a hundred times, but always talked myself out of it.”

“It’s been twenty-five years, Sara. Twenty-five fucking years, and not so much as a damn phone call.”

“I know, Cotton. At first it was just too hard. I missed you so much, and I knew talking to you would only make it harder. Then, after so much time passed… I don’t know. I guess I just lost the nerve to pick up the phone. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk to me, much less see me,” she explained.

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