Page 88 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

He rubs his jaw. “I don’t—“ His phone cuts off his words.

“Hey, Prez,” he answers. “They what? How the hell did that happen?” He pauses to listen to the other end. Then he rubs his hand down his face. “Fuck. Yeah, okay. I’ll head that way.” He nods to the phone as if Cole can see him. “I’ll send the prospects. Be back soon.”

He hangs up and looks at us.

“Good news and bad news.”

We stand, waiting for him to drop the bomb.

“What’s the good news?” I ask.

“We found them.”

“Great. So, what’s the bad news?” TJ asks.

“They’re in lockup.”

TJ and I exchange a look before I turn to Crash. “What the fuck for?”

“They got arrested for a drive-by shooting.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – JAIL

Billy—

The metal doors slam shut behind us as we are placed in the jail cell at county lockup. I’ve never been to prison before, and though this isn’t quite the real deal, the cinderblock walls and lack of windows still give off the same foreboding feeling. I’m surprised they put us in the same cell. They must be full.

“I cannot believe you made me call Mom.” I shake my head at my father and sit on the edge of what they claim to be a bed.

“I had to call the club lawyer,” he defends.

“Bullshit. You just didn’t want to tell Mom you got arrested.”

“Would you?”

“I literally just did.” I gesture in the direction of the calling area from which we just returned.

“What did she say, anyway?” My dad turns to look at me, his finger twisting around his beard. It’s a nervous habit of his. Funny how cops slamming us to the ground and dragging us to jail doesn’t make the man nervous, but telling his barely five-foot wife he’s been arrested makes him run for the hills.

“She sounded relieved we weren’t in a ditch on the side of the road.” I lift my eyes to my Dad. “But when I told her we were facing criminal homicide charges, she went straight nuclear. She started yelling in mandarin, and she called you a few choice words.”

“What? Why me?”

“Something about getting her baby boy arrested and being too chickenshit to call her yourself.”

My dad scrubs a hand down his face. “Well, I can’t wait to go home to that fight. Think if I stay locked up long enough, she’ll be so excited to see me she forgets to be mad?”

“Not a chance in hell.” I chuckle.

“Well, damn, there goes that plan.”

“So, what’d the lawyer say?” I’m eager to get out of this eight by ten box.

“She’s on her way, and don’t say shit to nobody.”

***

Marcus—

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