Page 1 of Marx

Prologue

Marx

Fuck.

I shake my head, trying to get the ringing to stop, but it doesn’t clear anything. My eyes feel gritty every time I blink and I can barely hear my brother’s shouts over the ringing in my ears. I feel disoriented, expecting the shouts to be in the foreign language that usually comes with these scenes, but no, these are words I understand. I’m not in the middle of a shitty sandbox far from home. I AM home. Fuck.

I take stock of my body. I’m flat on my back and aside from the ringing in my head nothing feels broken or busted. My head lolls to the left and I get my first look at the clubhouse. It’s devoid of screams and cries even though I know that there are women and children inside. Rolling over, I get my feet under me, shaking my head again, this time clearing things a little. But not the sound of gun fire, ringing out around me, the shouts of my brothers as they rush to the front gate, guns drawn.

“Pres! Get Lovely and move the fuck outta the way!” Judge barges past me, his large form moving with a speed I’ve not seen since we served together.

I stare at his retreating back for a moment before his words reach my brain. Lovely. Looking around I pay no mind to the destruction surrounding me, not when my gaze freezes on Lovely lying on the ground, blood staining her pink sweater.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Dropping to my knees, I feel for her pulse with one hand, the other pressing into her chest, blood bubbling from her wound, warming my fingers. My forefinger finds a light flutter of a pulse and I let out a breath of relief, but it’s only for a moment. I need to get Lovely to safety, fast.

Lifting her in my arms I turn, ready to take her into Switch’s clinic before I stop, eyes on the carnage in front of me. The back half of the clubhouse has been destroyed, the roof caved in. Electrics are sparking off and I need to find my men. My family.

An SUV fishtails, screeching to a stop, blowing up dust into my still gritty eyes before Nat shoves the backdoor open.

“Get her in here!”

Peering into the vehicle, Sage’s wide eyes meet mine. She’s in the trunk, holding the throw Mama Debs bought for the new couch over Fox’s stomach, her hands stained red as Nitro cradles his head in his lap.

“Pres! We need to get them to the hospital, NOW!” Nat shouts in my face.

I gently move Lovely into the backseat, Nat’s open arms welcoming her, ready to put pressure on the wound that is bleeding far too much.

“Just put press-”

“I got this.” She nods, eyes full of determination.

“Where’s-”

“Chewy has the kids and women. The men are stationed around the compound.” Blanche says from her place in thedriver’s seat. She turns her body to meet my gaze. “Give them hell.”

I have time enough to nod before Blanche peels out, heading toward the back of the compound, likely taking the back roads to the hospital. Turning my head to the sound of my men fighting I move like death himself. Rage consumes me. Someone came intomytown. Attackedmycompound. Hurtmyfamily. And they’re going to pay with their lives.

Chapter 1

Marx

Her luscious curves jiggle as she helps Jazz herd the kids onto the short bus. She’s smiling and joking with them, some of the kids fight to hold her hand as they walk to the bus steps. Of course she lets them, she’s Lovely. Shit. I need to apologize. I don’t know what the fuck came over me that had me running my mouth like that. No, no I do know. I want that woman more than I can say and a fuck load more than I deserve but she deserves more. Better. Someone not fucking 10 or so years older. Someone gentle and understanding or something. I don’t fucking know. The only thing I do know is that she doesn’t deserve me speaking to her like she’s just some hang around.

She turns in my direction, her smile dimming a little as she walks toward the clubhouse. It’s now or never I guess so I carefully step toward her until we’re standing just outside the clubhouse, flanked by my brothers rides.

“Lovely I-”

“Marx, it’s OK.”

“No, Lovely, it’s not. I didn’t mean to spout that shit,” I scrub my hand down my face, looking for the words. I’ve led men into war and I’m getting shaky and nervous trying to apologize to a little lady whose dark gaze is locked somewhere behind me, probably watching the school bus leave through the gates.

“Marx-”

“No I need to get this out -”

“MARX!” her scream shocks me and then I’m moving backwards, stumbling, falling, my head hitting the ground, ringing bursting in my ears along with the shouts and screams and the -

“Pres?” Nitro’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, taking my mind off what happened and bringing it back to the present and the damn hard chair I’m sitting in.

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