Page 118 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

She touches my face. “I knew you’d find us.”

“You girls did good. The way my place looked with you girls putting up a fight let me know to call for help. One of you must have knocked a card out, because we found a credit card that we tracked to the Death Heads.” I pull her into my arms. “You’re safe now.”

“I know,” she whispers against my chest. “How’s Harley? They haven’t come down yet. I hated that they separated us. I tried so hard to protect her.”

As if on cue, we hear the boots thumping down the stairs.

“Let’s go,” Cole calls from the front.

We all move outside to our bikes.

“What should we do with these assholes?” Wolf asks, gesturing to the few Death Heads still on the ground.

“Leave them as bruised as they left our girls.” Cole pauses. “Actually, leave them worse.”

He walks to his bike as Red Dog and Wolf lay a beat down on the Death Heads.

I lead Brandy to the van and spot Crash on his phone. I know it has to be Shannon he’s called. That fact is confirmed when he hands the phone to Harley. I can hear her assuring her mom that she’s okay.

Cole and Crash approach us.

“Hey Brandy, we need to talk to you for a few minutes.” Cole smiles reassuringly.

“Okay.”

“First, I wanted to say thank you,” Crash starts. “Harley said you stepped between her and one of the men to protect her. Said you ended up getting roughed up because of it, but your plan worked because you drew his attention away from my daughter. I’m grateful.”

“It was the least I could do,” Brandy murmurs.

I swallow the guilt I feel for having put Brandy in this situation. I brought her into my life and then I led the Death Heads right to my doorstep.

Brandy relates every detail for them, and by the end of it, my blood is boiling.

“Is Harley okay?” she whispers to Crash.

“Yes, thanks to you. No one bothered her.”

Brandy nods, relief spreading across her face.

***

Snake, President of the Death Heads Montana Chapter—

“Flick, call the Evil Dead down in Vegas and figure out why they just busted up our cathouse outside Reno,” I snap at the prospect behind the bar. He retreats to do my bidding, and I spot Jackal from the corner of my eye. He seems fidgety, like he knows something. I make my way to him.

He stares from his seat at a table, a drink in his hand. “Prez.”

“Jackal. You want to tell me why the Dead would be interested in our cathouse?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“It’s not Vegas you need to call. It’s California.”

I pick up his whiskey glass and chuck it against the wall behind his head. “God dammit, Jackal! I thought we were done with that shit. I’m not trying to start a war with the Dead. You said it’d be a one-time deal. In and out. Would save us money on paying girls. Now you’re fucking around in their territory again?”

He rises from his chair. “I wasn’t fucking around in California. I was teaching them a goddamn lesson. They don’t get away with what they did to my crew.” His eyes are bloodshot, and his face red with anger.

He’s becoming more damn trouble than he’s worth, and if I’m being honest, he’s been that way for quite some time now.

“What the hell did you do?” I bite out, wanting all the facts before I strangle the life from him.

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