Cotton: Satan's Fury MC (9 page)

Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. I did what I could to push it to the back of my mind by busying myself in the bar, but every time one of the brothers walked through, it only confirmed my suspicions. Distress was written all over their faces, and none of them were talking, which worried me even more. I absolutely hated they wouldn’t share what was going on, but it was nothing new—club business was never shared with the women. I just had to deal and move on. It was almost ten o’clock, and I hadn’t heard anything from Cotton—no call, no text… nothing. If it weren’t for the girls showing up at the bar tonight, I think I would’ve lost my damn mind.

“I’ve never seen Guardrail like this,” Allie whispered. “It’s freaking me out.”

Remembering the look on his face when he charged through the bar earlier made my heart sink with the weight of my worry. I wanted desperately to ask him what was wrong, but I knew it was no use. I looked over at Allie and said, “Guardrail is great at what he does. Just give him some time to get it sorted.”

“What exactly does he have to
sort
?’ Henley snapped. “I just don’t get it. Why won’t he just tell us what’s going on? It’s obvious something’s wrong.”

“And it’s not just him,” Emerson piped in. “They are all acting like they’re ready to blow.”

“I can’t take this. What if something happened to Maverick?” Henley spoke softly with tears filling her eyes.

“Stop. We aren’t doing this. If we start the ‘what if’ game, it’s just going to make things that much worse. The guys will be back in a day or so, and then we’ll have a better idea of what’s going on,” I lectured.

“She’s right,” Allie said. “We’ve got to have a little faith here and trust that everything will work out.”

Trying her best to change the subject, Allie turned to Emerson and asked, “When are you planning to head back to school?”

“I was planning to head back tonight, but …” she trailed off. She took a drink of her soda, then said, “I’ll probably just head back tomorrow.”

“Let me know if you need any help getting your stuff together. I know you’re probably excited to get back to your old routines,” I told her.

Her eyes dropped to the floor when she said, “No… not really. I like it here, and I’m not sure I want to go back.”

“Then you should stay!” Wren smiled. “We’d love for you to stay…”

Before Wren could continue, Emerson shook her head as she said, “No… I can’t. I know I have to go back and finish what I started. But it’s going to be hard to leave everyone, especially Griff. I finally feel like I have my brother back, and I don’t want to lose him.”

“Honey, you’re never going to lose him. Your brother thinks you hung the moon. There’s nothing in this world he wouldn’t do for you. Go finish up your classes, and if it feels right, come back when you are done,” Wren explained.

“You guys really wouldn’t mind if I came back?” she smiled.

“Are you kidding me? Heck, I’d love it. Then I’d have a chance to reclaim my Pac-Man championship title,” Henley teased.

“Girl, you just don’t give up, do you?” Emerson laughed.

“It’s called determination,” Henley responded proudly.

“I don’t know about that,” I snickered. “I’d say it’s more like you’re a sore loser. Always have been.”

Henley turned to me with a horrified expression on her face and started spouting off all of her reasons why she wasn’t a sore loser, making us all roar with laughter as we listened to her try to deny it. Thankfully, it was just the distraction we all needed to get us through the night. We spent the next hour talking, and I was starting to feel better about things, until the girls started leaving one by one. Allie and I were the only ones left in the bar when Guardrail came in to get her.

He walked over to her, and with a halfhearted smiled, asked, “Hey, All Star. You ready to call it a night?”

“Ready whenever you are,” she answered. When he took a hold of her hand, she turned to me and whispered, “It’s going to be fine. It has to be.”

Just before they left the room, Guardrail spotted Clutch in the back of the bar. He stopped just long enough to shout, “Help Cass shut down the bar and do a final walkthrough.”

“On it,” he responded as he checked the back door and turned off the lights. I watched as he made his way toward the bar and quickly realized the man walking over to me wasn’t the happy-go-lucky Clutch I adored—not in the least. The man coming toward me was full of rage as he cleared the empty bottles from the tables, causing them to clank roughly together in his arms when he walked. He stopped at the end of the counter and dropped them into the large metal trash can, glaring angrily as they all crashed at the bottom.

“Feel better now?” I asked sarcastically.

Without warning, he grabbed a full beer of bottle from the counter and threw it, shattering it against the back wall. I could feel the anger radiating off of him as he stood there, staring at the mess. “Fuck!” he roared. “I’m sorry, Cass… Just go on to bed. I’ll clean it up.”

“Might be a little difficult with that sling. I’ll do it,” I offered as I reached for the dustpan.

“Go, Cass.
Now
,” he ordered. I could tell from his tone he wasn’t in the mood to argue, so I handed him the broom and turned to leave.

Just before I walked out of the room, I turned to him and said, “You know, I was worried before, but seeing you like this… now, I’m terrified.”

“Cass!” I heard him call out, but I was already halfway down the hall. There was no point in trying to talk to him. I knew he couldn’t tell me what I wanted to know, so I ignored him and went to my room. I didn’t even bother changing clothes before I crawled into my bed. I pulled the covers over me and tried to block out all worries racing through my head, but every time I closed my eyes, I was haunted by Cotton’s face. I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt. I needed to feel close to him, so I threw the covers back and slipped down to his room. He’d told me he wanted me there, and it felt right as I lay down in his bed. I took a deep breath, letting his scent surround me, and I could almost imagine him there next to me, holding me, kissing me. Even though it was just in my mind, it was enough for me to escape my worries long enough for me to finally fall asleep.

I woke up early the next morning with Henley sitting at the foot of the bed. Her hair was falling loose around her face and it looked like she’d been crying. I sat up and said, “What’s wrong?”

“Maverick still hasn’t called. It’s around seven, and I haven’t heard anything from him. Something’s happened to him, Cass,” she cried.

I reached for her, pulling her into a hug as I said, “Oh, honey. It’s still early…
really
early. I’m sure he’s fine. Just give it some time.”

“I kinda suck at this,” she smiled. She wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Old ladies are supposed to be able to handle this stuff. They’re supposed to be tough… I’m not so tough.”

“You’re wrong about that, Henley. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Stubborn as hell. You’ll get through this just fine.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and said, “Why don’t we go to the kitchen and grab a bite to eat? I’m sure we’ll hear something from them soon.”

“Okay,” she answered. “Can we make pancakes and bacon? I’m craving bacon.”

“Bacon it is,” I laughed. “Just give me a minute to run to my room and change.”

After I changed clothes, I found Henley in the kitchen, where she’d already started mixing the pancakes. We spent the next hour cooking enough breakfast to feed an army, and just when I was about to put everything on the table, Clutch walked in with Hoss, Cotton’s youngest brother. Neither of them spoke as they filled their plates, and with the tension in the room bearing down on us, we all ate in silence. It was brutal, and when I couldn’t stand it a moment longer, I got up and walked out the back door. Boozer was there, talking to Smokey, and didn’t notice I’d come out. I tried to just ignore them, but when I heard Boozer say Cotton’s name, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

His voice was rattled and filled with concern as he explained, “He’s pretty bad off. Guardrail said the doctors don’t know if they can remove the bullet.”

I felt like someone had stolen my last breath. I was completely stunned and couldn’t make a coherent thought as I heard Smokey say, “He’s the Prez, man. He’s strong. Nothing’s gonna keep him down. Not even a fucking bullet in the back.”

“
Smokey
,” I whispered as I fought back my tears. “What happened?”

“Shit, Cass,” he answered, shaking his head with regret. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Well, I did. Is he still in Anchorage? Which hospital?” I asked. I had to get to him, one way or the other.

“I wish I could tell you, Cass, but you know I can’t.”

“Just nut up and tell me, Smokey!” I demanded. When he didn’t immediately answer, I turned and headed back inside, slamming the door behind me. Guardrail was my only hope of finding out what was going on and where Cotton was. I found him working in Cotton’s office.

He knew why I was there as soon as he spotted me in the doorway and said, “I don’t know anything yet.”

“Is he still in Anchorage?” I asked.

“Yes, at the county hospital,” he answered. “But, Cass. He’s sending Stitch home. Doesn’t want anyone there but Maverick.”

“But…” I started.

“Cass,” he warned. “Just let it go. He wants you here.”

I heard the words he was saying, but I wasn’t listening. I’d already decided I was going to him, no matter what anyone said. “Okay,” I answered. “Just please let me know if you hear anything.”

“I will. And don’t worry. He’s going to be okay,” he tried to assure me, but I could hear the doubt in his voice, and it damn near broke my heart.

It was late. The bar was completely empty except for Cass and me. The party had finally fizzled out, and the only sound that could be heard was the low rumble of a song playing on the jukebox. Cass stood by the doorway, looking sexy as hell as she waited for me to come to her. Even from across the room, I could see that spark in her eyes shining brightly, making me want her even more. There was no better feeling than seeing that look and knowing it was just for me. I walked over to her, and when I lifted her into my arms, her legs instinctively wrapped around my waist.

“You’ve been playing your tricks again tonight,” I warned as I carried her down the hall.

Smiling innocently, she asked, “What tricks? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I kicked the door shut behind us and continued to carry her inside my room, only stopping when her back was pressed against the back wall.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You know what this skirt does to me, woman. I can’t take my eyes off of you whenever you wear it, and neither can anyone else,” I growled.

“Oh, is that right?” she teased. Then she leaned closer, and just inches from my ear, she whispered, “Well… I may or may not be wearing panties under this favorite little skirt of yours.”

“Fuck.” Just the thought of her not wearing anything under that skirt made me come unglued. I immediately slipped my hands under her skirt and was relieved to find she was in fact wearing underwear. I looked up at her, only to find a devilish grin on her face.

“I said, may or may not… geez,” she laughed.

“That’s how you get yourself in trouble.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” she grinned. “Maybe I like your punishments.”

Having her wrapped around me had my cock throbbing against the zipper of my jeans. When I couldn’t stand it a moment longer, I gave her lace panties a quick tug, ripping them free from her waist. I’d barely freed myself from my jeans when she tilted her hip, pushing herself down on my hard cock. She felt so fucking good, so tight, warm, and wet. I had to fight the urge to come right then and there. I put my hands on her hips, forcing her to remain still, so I could stop my dick from twitching for its release. She kept still for only a moment, but that was all I needed.

When I released my hands from her hips and planted them on the wall, she wound her arms around my neck and slowly began nipping at it. I eased back, then plunged deep inside of her, giving her every inch of my dick, and relished in the sounds of her whimpers next to my ear. Her head fell back as she started to rock her hips against me, groaning in pleasure as she tried to inch herself up and down my cock. I withdrew again, only to drive into her over and over again, my pace quickening with every stroke. My rhythm became more and more demanding
,
and her nails
raked across my back as tried to hold on. I should’ve slowed down, savored the moment, but my need for her was relentless and unforgiving. The moment her breath caught, silencing the little whimpers that always drove me wild, I knew she was getting close to the edge, which only made me want to fuck her even harder.

“Cotton,” she shouted as she clamped down on my cock, her orgasm pulsing against me.
Fuck, she felt so damn good. I couldn’t get enough of her. I could almost feel her tighten around me as her release jolted through her body.

Fuck. I wanted to stay lost in that memory of her coming undone, but I felt myself being pulled away. No matter how hard I tried to hold on, the warmth of her body was slowly disappearing, being replaced with the sounds of someone talking. When I opened my eyes, I saw Maverick standing at the end of the bed, talking to a doctor. Reality came rushing back, and so did the memories of being shot. I’d come back from surgery late last night, only to realize I’d lost some of the feeling in my lower legs, which made it difficult to move them. The nurse tried to explain how the doctors were unable to remove the bullet from my back, but got flustered when I grilled her for more information. The pain medication they’d given me made it difficult to stay awake, so I’d spent most of the night and morning completely out of it. I was finally coming out of the haze and tried to focus on what the doctor was saying to Maverick, but his voice was low, making it difficult to understand him.

“He’s stable for now,” the doctor told him. He coughed into his fisted hand and then continued, “Like the nurse said earlier, we managed to remove the bullet from his shoulder, but we were hesitant to do the same for the one in his back. During entry, the bullet grazed the lower cortex of his spine, and it has caused a great deal of swelling. It’s lodged next to his spine, and the surgery to remove it is risky.”

“Risky how?” Maverick asked.

“At this point, we don’t know if the numbness in his legs is permanent. There is a very slight chance it will dissipate on its own. There is a greater chance it is permanent.  In that case, the only hope would be to remove the bullet, which would be a difficult surgery. It could leave him permanently paralyzed, or it could solve the problem altogether. There is no way to be sure. We can leave the bullet where it is. With close monitoring and antibiotics, he should be fine, but without the surgery, he may not regain full use of his legs,” the doctor clarified.

“I’ll talk to him, but I already know what he’ll say.”

“It’s important he understands. It’s a gamble either way we go. Surgical decompression of the bullet from the spinal cord has been shown to improve neurological recovery, but there are no guarantees. We can’t be certain the surgery will improve his chances of walking. There may be localized nerve damage, but we won’t know until there’s been further testing.”

“What are his chances of walking without the surgery?” Maverick asked.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look good.”

I cleared my throat, drawing both of their attention towards me and said, “I want the surgery.”

“You don’t have to make that decision just yet. You’ve just come out of a pretty extensive surgery, Mr. Walker.” the doctor answered.

“Doesn’t matter. I want the surgery.”

Maverick walked over to me and said, “You sure about this? You can survive if they just leave the bullet where it is.”

“I don’t want to just survive, Maverick,” I snapped. “I’ve got nothing if I can’t walk. You and I both know that.”

Maverick nodded, then turned to the doctor and said, “He’ll have the surgery. Make sure he has the best surgeon available. Don’t care what it takes to get him here. Just make it happen.”

With an apprehensive look on his face, the doctor said, “Well… Dr. Clayborn is the best. I’ll have him schedule the surgery for three o’clock this afternoon. It should take six hours for him to complete. The nurses will be in later to prep you.”

“I’ll be ready,” I told him.

As soon as the doctor walked out of the room, I turned to Maverick and asked, “What about Derek?”

“He’s dead, Cotton. We heard the SUV start up, and Stitch raced outside to see what was going on. He saw them leaving and kept shooting until the truck ended up sideswiping a tree and flipped down a ravine. Before he could make it down the hill, the entire thing blew up in flames.”

“So you’re sure he’s dead.”

“The entire thing was up in flames, Cotton. No way he survived it. With you bleeding out, we didn’t have time to wait for the fire to go out,” he explained.

"Understood. And Delaney?”

“No sign of him. We think he was the one driving,” Maverick answered. “So it looks like we got them both. Sara’s team is looking into it, so we will know for sure soon.”

I didn’t like it, but for now, I had to believe Derek had died in the explosion. It was the only thing I could do, so I said, “Just keep on top of it. Go back and check the vehicle, and let me know if you find anything suspicious.”

“You know I will.”

We talked off and on for hours while we waited for the nurses to come in to prep me for surgery. Even though Maverick tried his best to keep me distracted, it was hard to fight back the dark thoughts raging in the back of my mind. I knew it was bad—very bad—and the uncertainty caused a thousand ‘what if’ questions to bombard my thoughts. What if I couldn’t ever walk again? Ride again? Fuck again? What if I was to be damned to a wheelchair for the rest of my life? What if I lost my presidency? What would that mean for me and the club? I just couldn’t fathom any of it, and if there was any chance they could give me back my life with surgery, I was determined to try it, no matter the risk.

It was getting close to three o’clock when Maverick asked, “You sure about this?”

“Absolutely. No doubt in my mind,” I assured him.

There was a light tap on the door, then Sara stuck her head inside the room and said, “I just wanted to come by and see you before surgery.” She walked over to the bed and asked, “How are you doing?”

I could see she was worried, but I wasn’t in any place to reassure her or anyone else for that matter. I let out a deep breath and said, “I’m fine, Sara.”

She brushed the hair from my eyes and said, “That wasn’t very convincing, Cotton.”

“I said I was
fine
,” I snarled. She sighed with defeat as she walked out into the hall with Maverick.

I heard him tell her, “He’ll be alright. He’s just tired.”

“I don’t know,” she said, just loud enough for me to hear. “I think he’s in there feeling sorry for himself, thinking he may never walk again. And he’s gotta stop thinking like that. He’s got to get mad about this. He’s got to get mad enough to fight, because he’s going to have to fight with everything he has if he ever wants to walk again.”

Maybe she was right, but that didn’t change anything. I was still lying in a hospital bed with a bullet stuck in my fucking back, and until the surgery was over, I wouldn’t know if I had anything to even fight for. Everything hung in the balance—every-fucking-thing. I tried to stop the doubts from consuming me, but it was damn near impossible.

Just like the doctor promised, the nurses came in at three to take me to surgery. In a matter of minutes, I was back in the operating room, fighting for my life. It was almost nine before I made it out of surgery. The doctors examined me time and time again and felt confident the surgery was a success, but I still had my doubts. Even after everything they’d done, I couldn’t feel anything below my waist and was panicked I would never walk again. After spending an hour in the ICU, I was finally taken back to my room. I was still coming out of the fog of my anesthesia when I noticed Cassidy sitting quietly in the corner. She looked beautiful sitting there, staring at me. Her long, brown hair was cascading down her shoulders, and even though she was just wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater, I’d never seen her look so good. I wanted to reach for her, pull her close to me, so I could feel the warmth of her body next to mine. I wanted to feel that charge she gave me, get that lift I needed to set my mind at ease, but I knew I couldn’t do it. It was like a double-edged sword—I had no idea if the surgery had worked, and I had to do whatever it took to protect her from the hell that lay ahead even if that meant hurting us both in the process.  

“What are you doing here, Cass?” I growled.

She walked over to me and reached for my hand as she said, “I came as soon as I heard about the shooting. I wanted…”

“Weren’t you told to stay at the clubhouse?” I snapped, hating to see the hurt that filled her eyes when she realized I wasn’t happy to see her.

“Yes, but…” she mumbled.

“You were
told to stay put
, Cass. If I wanted you here, you’d know it.” It killed me to say those words to her, but I knew it was the only way to protect her.

A dejected expression crossed her face as she whispered, “I’m sorry, Cotton. I just wanted to …”

“That’s just it. This isn’t about
you
, Cass. I’m the one who’s been shot, and the last fucking thing I need to worry about is whether or not you are doing what you’ve been told,” I roared.

With her voice strained as she was obviously trying to fight back her tears, she whispered, “I was worried about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. If you wanted to be an old lady…
my
old lady, then you should’ve done what you were
told
. Get back to the club, Cass,” I ordered.