Page 99 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“How the hell are we going to do that? Do the guys know what the truck even looks like?” I question as we make our way to our bikes. As a prospect, it’s not my place to question anything, but between TJ, Billy and me, we talk.

“I don’t fucking know. But they must know something because Cole, Crash, and Wolf are taking that job.”

Crash stops at our bikes on his way to his own, and we all straighten, giving him our full attention. “You boys ready?”

“Yes, sir,” we chime simultaneously. No other answer is acceptable. Not if we want an Evil Dead patch someday.

“Good. What you prospects do and how you act reflects on the Evil Dead. This is the first time you get to wear your big boy pants, and you’re doing it in front of other clubs. Don’t shit them.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – WARNING DELIVERED

Marcus—

It was a little over an hour’s ride toward Lathrop. We got here at about ten—two hours before pickup.

I can see why this is a perfect transfer location. It’s kind of like a triangle of interstates intersecting, making it easy to move any type of product quickly and in multiple directions.

It’s still disgusting these shitheads think of women as product to sell and do with what they please. I can’t wait for the Dead to teach them a lesson.

Cole and his small crew, including TJ with the van, had split off and made their way south to stop the supplier, while we headed north to the rendezvous point.

Jake and Shane make a lap around the trailer park, where the actual meet was taking place, scoping it out. It’s secluded and not visible from the side streets or interstate. Hell, if we didn’t know exactly where we were going, we would have missed it.

Jake and Shane roll to a stop at an outdoor storage unit where the rest of us wait, not wanting to tip off any watchful eyes in the trailer park of our arrival.

“Well, it’s only got one point of entry.” Jake glances toward Shane.

“Yeah, so it should be easy to cover and get the jump on them once they’re inside,” Shane confirms.

Jake stretches, climbing from his bike. “Have any of you checked in with Cole?”

“Yeah, they reached the truck stop our gun connection over the border tipped us off about.” Red Dog slides his phone from his pocket. “Should be locating the truck now. Let’s cross our fingers it goes well.”

Wyatt, the Dead Soul’s president, tosses his cigarette. “Amen. So, how do you guys want to handle this?”

“I’m thinking we need to split our forces. Half of us can hang out here. Is there anything on the other side?” Green looks at Shane and Jake.

“There was an old abandoned gas station a quarter mile down from the entrance,” Jake replies.

“That should work,” Green agrees.

Red Dog’s phone chimes, and he puts it to his ear. “Hey, Cole. You guys find it.” He nods. “Okay, yeah, good idea. I’ll let you know when they show.” He swipes his finger across his screen and slides it into his pocket. “They found the truck. Had twelve women in it.”

“Jesus,” I whisper under my breath.

“What’d they do about them?” Jake clenches his jaw as he asks.

“Bought ‘em,” Red Dog snaps, as if that should be obvious.

Billy and I exchange a look. I know we’re both thinking the same thing. How the hell is the club going to handle this? Where are we taking those women?

Either no one else is wondering, or they just don’t voice it, because nothing else is said about them.

“We’re going to handle the Death Heads until Cole and the boys get here. He didn’t want to ride up at the same time and blow this whole plan, so they’re going to hold back an exit until we give the word those assholes have arrived.”

“Good thinking.” Wyatt leans forward, adjusting himself on his bike, leather creaking as he does. “Cole’s a smart one. He’s been one hell of a President; really making Mack proud.”

“Yeah, that’s a fact, and we all love him.” Green grins. “Let’s get into position. They should be due soon, and we want to be ready. If we’re not, that president you’re so proud of will be skinning all our asses.”

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