Page 108 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“Home? How about my place? It’s only a couple miles from the mall, and I want to see you.”

“Okay. Will you be home soon?”

“I will now.” I can almost hear him grinning on the other end. “It’ll take me about thirty minutes. Key’s under the mat.”

“Sounds great.” We hang up, and I look over at Harley with a smile. “Take me to Marcus’s place?”

She smiles back. “Only if I get to see it? I’m a nosy bitch.”

“A quick peek. You’re not messing up my lay.” I waggle my eyebrows at her.

She chuckles. “Deal.”

Harley pulls into a parking spot right out front and climbs from her car, surveying the place. “This is not what I expected. It’s actually kind of cute.” She glances up and down the street. “Looks like he’s right in the heart of campus housing.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of college students, but the noise doesn’t bother him.”

We walk up the few steps to his door, and I pull the mat back to find the key he told me about.

“Real original,” Harley scoffs.

“Yeah, he probably should hide this in a better place.” I slide the key in and twist the knob. It’s dark inside with all the curtains drawn, and it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting.

I freeze, fear zinging through me when I notice the man sitting on the couch half a second before the door slams shut behind us.

The light flips on, and Harley gasps next to me. My heart is pounding when I glance her way and see recognition flash across her face, but she stays silent.

My first thought is to bolt, but a muscular beast of a man stands in front of the door and another blocks the exit to the kitchen.

Oh, crap.

“Well, look what we have here,” the man on the couch drawls. He has a crooked nose that seems as if it had a break that healed wrong. His black scraggly beard covers his face, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The gold tooth that reflects the light off the lamp gives him the appearance of a pirate.

My eyes dart around the room, seeing a man leaned against the counter in the kitchen and then there’s the two blocking our exit. All of them are wearing leather cuts, but these are not Evil Dead. These guys are something else, and it’s crystal clear they’re to be feared. I try not to let that fear overwhelm me, and I push it aside with anger.

“Who the hell are you?” I practically spit out.

“I’ll ask the questions here, sexy.” The man on the couch licks his lips suggestively, and it makes me want to vomit.

He points at Harley. “I remember seeing you.” Then he points to me. “But you’re new.” He looks between us. “Which one of you is with the prospect?”

When we don’t answer, he snaps his fingers at the man in the kitchen.

I glance that way and see the man lift a piece of mail. “Marcus Pritchard,” he reads the name off the front of the envelope.

“Yeah, that’s the little asshole. Marcus. Which one of you is his?”

I shift, but see Harley’s barely perceptible shake of her head. I know we’re in a dangerous situation, but Harley is more aware of how this world works than I am, so I decide to follow her lead and keep quiet.

“No one going to answer me? Do I need to teach you some goddamn manners? They allow this shit in the Dead?”

Still, we remain silent.

“What should we do with them?” one of the men behind us asks.

Normally I’d turn my attention to whomever is talking, but I can tell the man on the couch is my biggest threat.

“Well, now.” He scratches his beard. “Seeing as we came here to kill that piece of shit who ruined our deal, I’m thinking taking their women may kill two birds.”

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