Page 93 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Hopefully, this information gets me off this crap job. One thing’s for certain. Cole is going to explode when he hears this news. A state assemblyman in the pocket of the Death Heads. Shit’s about to hit the fucking fan.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – CHURCH

Marcus—

I take in the scarred wooden table with the club emblem carved in the center. I’m a little in awe of this room. Church, the brothers call it. It’s sacred to the club, and usually only patched members are allowed across the threshold. If that didn’t signal the seriousness of the situation, the boom of Cole slamming his fist on the table sure does.

“Are you kidding me with this shit? The Death Heads are behind everything?” he roars.

Crash leans forward. “According to what Marcus heard, not only are they sic’ing their dog on us, but they’re also trafficking women right under our noses.”

Cole locks eyes with him. “Fuck, VP, you know how much I hate this shit? If Angel or Shannon find out, they’ll lose it.”

“I agree. It took me a hell of a long time to help Shannon overcome her debilitating fear of walking in a parking garage at night or seeing a white panel van. She and Angel cannot hear about this.” Crash glances around the table at all the brothers.

I’ve heard rumors of how Cole and Crash met their wives after rescuing them from a similar trafficking situation, but I’ve never heard the two of them mention it. The fury in their eyes tells me just how close to home this subject hits. I get why they wouldn’t want to put their women through reliving any part of something like that by hearing about another instance of the same thing.

“That means no pillow talk with your ol’ ladies or girlfriends,” Cole commands, glancing around the table. “Got it?”

All heads nod.

“Hell, no one’s supposed to be talking club business outside of us, anyway.” Jake slumps in his chair.

“Damn straight, but I also know sometimes the details slip out. This needs to be locked down tight. No one else knows.” Cole’s gaze connects with every man in the room.

“What about Marcus?” Shane lifts a chin in my direction.

Cole stands and walks toward where I lean against the wall. My arms unfold because I’m not sure what he’s about to do, but he opens the door and his voice bellows down the hall.

“TJ! Billy! Get your asses in here.”

Cole returns to his seat at the head of the table, and TJ and Billy troop in. They glance in my direction; I’m sure trying to decipher what the hell’s going on. Prospects aren’t allowed in church. This is my first time stepping foot in this sacred room and only their second. They must know it’s something big.

“If we’ve got the cops, state politicians, and the Death Heads working together, we’re going to need every man we can get,” Cole announces to the room.

I see the surprise flash across TJ's and Billy’s faces, but they quickly mask it.

After giving TJ and Billy a quick fill-in, the patches talk through all the options until we have some semblance of a strategy which begins with Cole and Crash paying my new friend, the state assemblyman, a visit Monday when he falls into his routine. He has a standing lunch date at Roscoe’s every Monday. This time he'll have company.

As soon as the meeting ends, the brothers disperse.

“Marcus, stay,” Crash commands from where he and Cole still sit.

The other brothers troop out, some glancing my way as they pass. When the last one exits and shuts the door, I turn to the head of the table.

“We need you to come with us on Monday.” Cole studies me.

The shock must be evident, because the corner of Crash’s mouth turns up. “You know the assemblyman’s every move. We don’t want to waste time figuring out where to go if he strays from his routine. You’ll be our chauffeur.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Be ready to leave tonight, nine o’clock. We want to be up there in the morning.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“That’s it. You can leave now.” Cole dismisses me and shifts in his seat, discussing details with Crash.

I shut the door behind me, and I'm making my way across the clubhouse when my phone lights up with Brandy’s name. I press it to my ear. “Hey, babe.”

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