Cotton: Satan's Fury MC

Sara had come by to check in. We’d been talking for several minutes when Dr. Clayborn came in. We were discussing my status, and just as he was about to leave, my phone started ringing. I nodded over to Sara, letting her know to take care of it. But instead of silencing the call, she answered it.

“Hello?” Then she paused for a few seconds. A strange expression crossed her face as she lowered the phone and looked down at my screen. When she read the name displayed, she quickly brought it back to her ear and asked, “Cassidy? Are you there?”

The second I heard Cassidy’s name, I shouted, “Sara, hand me the damn phone!” But by the time she put the phone in my hand, Cass was no longer on the other end. I immediately tried to call her back, but she didn’t answer. I dragged my hand through my hair and groaned, “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Sara told me. “I was just trying to help.”

“No telling what she’s thinking now.”

“She wouldn’t be thinking anything if you’d just been straight with her from the beginning,” Sara snapped.

“You know why I did what I did,” I barked.

“Doesn’t mean it was right. Cass had a right to make up her own mind, but you didn’t trust her enough to let her do that.” She stepped closer and said, “You took that away from her. It was selfish, and it isn’t the way love works, Cotton. You have to respect her feelings. They are just as important as your own.”

“I was protecting her!” I shouted.

“Keep telling yourself that, Cotton,” she said sarcastically and then walked out, letting the door slam behind her.



I knew there was some truth to what Sara had said. I thought I’d sent Cass away to protect her, but I never took the time to consider how my actions would affect her. She’d always been a nurturer, always taking care of the people she loved, and it was one of the things I loved most about her. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how badly I’d fucked up. I was more determined than ever to talk to Cass. I’d been trying to call her for two days, but she wouldn’t pick up the damn phone. I was becoming more and more frustrated by the minute, and I was taking it out on everyone around me. Hell, the nurses had all but stopped coming into my room, and Maverick was doing what he could to keep his distance. I couldn’t blame him. Hell, I didn’t even want to be around me. It would’ve been better if I could just talk to her. I just needed to hear her voice, to know I hadn’t lost her by sending her away. I missed her—all of her—and as I sat there alone in that room, thinking of all the things I loved about her, I knew I’d do anything to fix things between us. The only thing that was keeping me going was knowing that the doctors were going to let me go home in a few days, so I wouldn’t have to wait much longer to lay my eyes on her. I just had a few more sessions with Melody, and then I’d be on my way.

When I came in from my workout, I had a ton of emails to sort through. My brothers and mother wanted to hear about my progress, and Guardrail wanted to give me an update on things at the club. He and the brothers had been busy preparing for our Charity Run for children with Down’s syndrome, and he wanted to go over the final details with me. It was just a few weeks away, and I wanted to be there—it was something that meant a lot to me. It wouldn’t be our first charity run, but it held special meaning for us all. When our brother, Skidrow, was killed a few months back, his wife, Dallas, had a hard time getting back on her feet. Her youngest, Dusty, was diagnosed with Down’s before he was even born. Skid had always been there to make sure his son had whatever he needed, and after he died, the club decided to start an annual fundraiser to help families in our area that had children with special needs. We were expecting a large crowd, so hopefully, we’d be able to raise a good deal of money for some pretty awesome kids.

I’d just responded to his email when Maverick walked in with a handful of sandwiches and drinks. Until I saw him, I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t eaten. He set the bag of food down beside me and said, “Figured you might want something to eat.”

“Yeah, food would be good.”

“How did things go with Melody today?” he chuckled.

I shook my head and said, “That girl is going to be the death of me for sure, but I can’t complain. Haven’t had to use that damn walker in a couple of days.”

“Give it a couple more days, and the cane will be gone, too.”

“That’s the plan,” I told him as I reached for my sandwich. “Guardrail messaged me. Things are all set for the Charity Run.”

“Yeah, he’s been busting his ass trying to get everything sorted.”

“Need to be there,” I grumbled.

“We’ll be there soon enough.”

I tossed the bag of food back onto the table and said, “I need to get the hell out of here for a little while. The walls are closing in on me.”

“Can’t blame you there. Hell, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years just sitting in this place over the past few weeks,” he laughed.

L. Wilder's books