Page 117 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

She nods against my shoulder.

Crash interrupts. “Where’s Harley?”

Brandy pulls back. “They had her in the room at the end of the hall.”

Crash bolts from the room.

My eyes move over Brandy as I run a knuckle gently across her cheek.

My jaw tightens at the sight of her face. She has dried blood smeared across her forehead, her cheekbone is bruised and swollen, and several small cuts and bruises mare her cheek as if she was hit with something.

“Who did this to you?” My voice comes out steely. “Did they, did they…” I can’t seem to get the question out.

She cups my cheek and runs her thumb over my lips. “They didn’t touch me. Not yet. One tried, but he was stopped.”

“Who?”

“The lady called him Trigger.”

“He do this, too?” I ask, brushing my fingers gently along her face.

“Some of it.”

“Who did the rest?”

“Jackal.”

I don’t ask any more questions, not wanting to make her relive it all. I take her hand and pull her behind me and out the door as we catch up to Crash.

He’s just managed to get the door open as we make it to him.

Harley stands in the corner, and when she sees her father burst through the door, her face crumbles.

He scoops her into his arms. “Baby girl, thank God. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He rocks her back and forth, stroking her head.

I tug on Brandy’s hand and nod toward the hallway to give them time alone.

We walk down the hall as several brothers troop up.

“You found her! What about Harley?” Cole asks as he nears.

“Crash is with her now. Room at the end of the hall.”

He nods and moves past us.

“Any more Death Heads up here?” Green calls as he moves down the hall.

“Not that we came across.” I glance behind him and see Jake and Shane clearing rooms as they go.

When we reach the first floor, Red Dog and Wolf stand over several bloodied Death Heads. They’re down on their knees, their hands bound behind their backs with zip ties.

I move Brandy to the kitchen and steer her to a chair, then move to the sink and wet a towel to wipe away the dried blood. Once it’s cleaned, I clearly see the deep purple bruising along her cheek bone. She also has a small knot at the top of her head with a gash.

“How’d you get this, babe?” I dab the cold cloth to it.

She winces at my touch. “I head-butted Jackal when we were at your place. We were trying to keep them from taking us, or at least stall until you got there.”

“I’m so sorry, Brandy.”

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