Page 16 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“Yup.”

“Why can’t you just come?”

“Because we’ve got orders to do it this way.”

“Oh, for the love—”

“Just stay put, Melissa.”

“Like we could go anywhere, moron.”

“Brat, I’ve got to make over a three-hour ride for your ass. Show some respect.”

“Right. See you soon, brother dear.”

TJ rolls his eyes and shoves his phone in his pocket. “Let’s ride.”

***

Billy—

We finally roll into the gas station at noon. It’s about thirty-five degrees this high in the mountains, so we had to stop at a rest area halfway up to put on our leathers. If we can’t get this car fixed, it’s gonna be a cold ride down for these girls. There are a few spots of snow here and there, but thankfully it's sunny and the roads are dry. It’s in the fifties in San Jose at the clubhouse. California—gotta love it.

I park at a gas pump, and TJ and Marcus follow suit.

“I’m gonna go find them,” TJ advises, leaving his bike at the pump.

I lift my chin and jam the nozzle in my tank. My eyes survey the area, and I spot Melissa’s white Mustang parked by the building. The car is too fast for her, and her father never should have bought it. I know I shouldn’t talk. I drive a ’68 Plymouth GTX when I’m not on the bike.

“There they are.” Marcus lifts his chin toward the door.

I glance over and spot the girls. They’re both stunners; Harley with her long brown hair like her father’s, and Melissa with her long blonde hair. But as they walk toward her car, I’ve only got eyes for Melissa.

She turns her head, her gaze searching until she finds me. We lock eyes and, just like always, we stare for several beats longer than we ought to. Whatever there is between us can never be. We both know that much. She’s the president’s daughter, and it can’t get more off-limits than that for a prospect.

I’ve known her since she was a three-year-old kid in pigtails, following me around at the clubhouse. There are a few years' difference in age between us, but some days it feels like a cavern. Melissa is pretty like her momma, and strong-willed like her daddy. It’s a deadly combination for a club princess.

There have been sparks between us since she became a teenager, and I suddenly took notice of how grown up she’d become. I’ve always known she was off-limits, though, and never more so than now that I’m prospecting with the club.

I slam the nozzle in its cradle and screw the cap on my tank. “Come on. Let’s get this over with and get the hell home.”

Marcus chuckles, making it clear he sees through my bullshit. “Get this over with. Right.”

“Shut up,” I snap, and stride across the lot with Marcus falling in beside me. He, TJ, and I have known each other since grammar school, where we became fast friends serving detention together. Marcus can read me like a book. There’s no putting anything over on him.

We approach the Mustang, and TJ has already got the hood up and is peering under it.

I lift my chin to the girls. “Ladies.”

They both smile at my greeting.

“Hey, Billy. Thanks for coming,” Harley says.

Melissa tucks her hair behind her ear, her head down. “Sorry you had to come all this way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I assure her. “So, what were you two doing up here?”

“Skiing at Donner. A friend of ours is dating one of the ski patrol guys,” Harley offers.

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