Page 64 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Marcus—

I’m still pissed when I pull up to my place. It’s a one-bedroom rental house. It’s nothing great, but the area’s good, the rent is cheap, and it came furnished. I live near the community college, so most of the houses are filled with young college students.

I push through the door that leads straight into the living room, throw my cut on one of the wooden chairs in the dining room as I pass, and head to the hallway. One side holds the laundry, and the other is my small bedroom and bath. I twist on the shower.

After a quick nap, I realize I won’t get much more sleep. As soon as my eyes open, my mind starts racing over how wrong I’ve been about Brandy. First chance she got, she brought another man to her place. And not just any man. Holt, that dick. So much for her being Mount Everest.

I give up all notions of sleep, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and push to my feet. Stalking through the house, I nab my cut and slip it on.

I’d might as well head to the clubhouse. A hard drink is what I need to clear my mind. With all the shit going down lately, I’ve gotta get my head on straight. Brandy is not a distraction I need.

I thought our relationship would be easy and a way to relieve the stressors of this violent life I live, but instead it seems it was all a game to her. Well, screw that. I won’t be anyone’s goddamn toy. And I sure as hell won’t let her turn me into her fool. I’m done with women for the moment, at least anything more than a quick lay.

My focus needs to be on the club and getting my patch.

I need to fucking remember that.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN – PIPE DREAM

Marcus—

The clubhouse is full when I slip through the door.

I smooth my palm down the front of my vest, feeling nothing but leather. One day, by God, there’ll be patches under my hand. It’s all I’ve worked toward—all I’ve wanted.

Well, until Brandy.

My jaw clenches. What a fucking pipe dream she turned out to be. The pain slices through me again, almost as fresh as when I saw her letting that asshole into her place.

Shouldering my way through the crowd, the pounding rock music vibrates my chest. I try to lose myself in the party mood of the clubhouse.

I slip behind the bar and help Billy and TJ, who are both busy stocking beer in the icy coolers, and passing them across the bar almost as fast.

Cole and Crash sit at the end of the bar, their heads huddled together, talking club business like they often do. Cole spots me and lifts his chin, sliding his empty bottle forward.

I nod and plunge my hand into the icy water to grab a replacement. He murmurs something to his VP, and they both watch me approach.

“Here you go, sir.” I slide the beer across the bar.

“Thanks, kid.” He wraps his hand around the neck.

“What are you doin’ back so soon?” Crash cocks his head to the side. “I thought I gave you ‘til six to rest up?” He glances at his watch. “Few hours early, aren’t you?”

“I went to talk to Brandy.” Last thing I want to do is talk about it with my Prez and VP. By the cocked brow he gives me, I see my answer isn’t going to cut it. “She, uh, had better plans.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Crash snaps.

My eyes swing toward my sponsor. Christ, they’re both really going to make me spill this whole damn story. Could this night get any worse? I exhale a long breath. “Ass-wipe was there. Saw him heading into her home.”

“No fucking shit?” Crash whispers.

My throat closes, and I pick up a glass. My hands work the bar rag over it, no matter that the thing is already dry.

“Tough break, kid,” Cole mutters, and takes a slug of his beer, his eyes never leaving mine. “At least you’ll get to beat the shit out of him on Saturday.”

“You need another, sir?” I shift my gaze to Crash, hoping his answer is yes, so I can escape this interrogation. Before he can answer, Cole lifts his chin toward the door, drawing my attention.

“Hey, kid. I’m thinking she sent him home.”

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