Page 14 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

I nod. “Mount Everest. Right.”

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“How about on the second date?” I ask, with hope in my voice.

“Depends how it goes,” she teases with a tinkling laugh.

“I can’t help thinking we’d be really good together,” I murmur.

“You’re a good kisser,” she whispers against my mouth, then nips my lower lip.

God, this woman. I can’t wait until I can get her in a bed and take my sweet time adoring every inch of her body. But that time is not tonight. I groan again and raise my head. “Gotta go.”

She nods and steps back. I pull her driver’s door open, and she scoots in. Once she’s inside, I close it and lean in the window for one last kiss.

I climb on my bike and follow her down the street. She turns in the drive of the third house from the corner. I idle at the curb, my feet on the pavement, and watch her walk to the front door.

She unlocks it, then turns to wave. I lift a hand and wait until she’s safely inside. Then I make a U-turn, and hit the throttle, roaring down the street, wondering what trouble awaits back at the Evil Dead clubhouse.

CHAPTER THREE – SPARK PLUGS & DEATH HEADS

Marcus—

Billy and TJ stand to the side of the gate as I roll in. Their posture is stiff, and Billy is lighting one cigarette with the butt of another. Never a good sign. I park and jog across the gravel lot to them.

“Where you been?” Billy asks before I can say a word.

“With Brandy. What the hell’s going on? What happened?”

“No idea. Green didn’t tell me shit, just for the three of us to watch the gate and be on high alert.” Billy glances at the clubhouse and sucks on his cigarette.

“We were hoping you’d have gotten more details,” TJ adds.

“Not a clue,” I reply. We stand guard duty until well past sunrise; my muscles ache from the tension. I down a water and check the time again. It’s almost nine a.m. I toss the bottle in a trash barrel, wishing we knew what the fuck was going down.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I finally spot Crash heading across the lot toward us and lift my chin to the other guys. “Look alive, boys.”

Billy drops his smoke and grinds it under his boot.

When Crash reaches us, we all know better than to ask questions, even though that’s all that’s on our minds at this point. Crash will tell us as much as he feels the need to and nothing more. He meets each of our eyes, and I can see the seriousness of the situation written all over his face.

“We’ve had some reports of the Death Heads MC spotted in California. They know this is our turf, and we’ve never had this problem with them before.”

“Where?” Billy asks.

“In Truckee, north of Lake Tahoe, and also up where I-80 crosses the state line into Nevada.” He runs a hand over his jaw. “Look, this could be a mistaken ID. This comes to us through some hang-arounds. They might be mistaken about what patches they saw. We haven’t been able to confirm it, but they said they’ve seen them on multiple occasions.”

“How many?” I ask, and Crash swings his eyes to mine.

“They were traveling in a pack of four.”

“Wow,” TJ murmurs, knowing the significance of that. Anything over one could be trouble.

“Exactly.” Crash points at each of us. “Until we know what the hell’s goin’ on, I want every one of you on your game, understand?”

We all nod.

“You be aware of your surroundings. The club could go on lockdown at any moment, and if that happens, it means you three will be in charge of making sure all the ol’ ladies and families are brought to the clubhouse.”

---