Page 9 of Marx

“Hit me.”

“Well, from what I’ve seen, and learnt since I’ve been back, the smartest plan would be to let Chewy come up with the plan.” His eyes twinkle as he grins at me.

I huff out a laugh, “Yeah, you’re probably fucking right, old man.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Speaking of, I want to run something by you,”

“Hit me,” he answers, echoing my words from a moment ago.

“I’m going to call Church. The women will be there.”

He runs a hand down his salt and pepper beard. “Of course.”

“Even though it’s in the club bylaws that women aren’t allowed in Church?”

“Marx, you have a woman as the icer. Chewy attends Church, and don’t you tell me she’s different.” He raises his brow, “When shit went down it was the women that jumped into action first. Getting the children and wounded to safety. It’d be a goddamn insult to them to leave them out.”

A smile grows over my face, making my dad frown at me. “My thoughts exactly, old man.”

A whistle carries on the breeze and I look toward the sound, Rhodie standing over Rider who looks to be bitching about something. We head that way, still scanning the ground for anything that may come in handy.

“Look, Rider’s ass saves the day again!” Rhodie says, holding up a shell casing while Rider glares up at him.

“You’re a cruel fucker! I was shot three days ago and you’re meant to be gentle with me. I’m in pain!” Rider whines.

“What happened to him?” Judge asks, massive arms folded across his chest, staring down at my SAA.

“I was chasing him and he tripped and fell on his ass. And this casing.” Rhodie drops it into my outstretched hand and I bring it up to the light to see better. White hot rage burns in the pit of my stomach.

“Find as many of these fuckers as you can. Bring them to me,” I bark, storming off to scan the ground for more shell casings.

Within three minutes I have a small handful, the others the same.

“What are we looking for?” Tank asks, emptying his handful into my palm.

I rifle through them all, taking note of the outside of the casing. “Get back to the farm, I’m calling Church.”

“Why? What have you found?” Rhodie asks, on high alert now.

“They’re carved.”

“And?”

“With our names.” I meet his green gaze, shock morphing to a hard look.

“Our road names?”

“And the names of our women and children.”

Lovely

“You good there, girl?” Switch yells in my face.

A grin pushes my cheeks up and I could blame the pain killers, but it’s less that, and more Switch is back to his normal loud self. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he keeps us all well and good, but the quiet, measured Dr Hansen is not the man I know and love.

“Well, that grin is a good sign.” He beams down at me. “Not long to go now and we can get you all settled on the couch with a blanket and the kiddies around you.” He pats my hand and I wrap my fingers around the rough warmth of his.

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