Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(136)

In a few minutes, I hear the door to the room close. Then and only then, do I give in to the tears that have yet to fall. I cried some in front of, Max. These are nothing like that. These are rivers of tears. A torrential downfall and each one is yanked, ripped and torn from my very soul.

I’m so f*cking, stupid.





31


Max


“Who the f*ck is the mole?” I yell punching my fist down on the table. If I weren’t Marcum’s flesh and blood, he’d have my ass, and he’d be within his right to do it. I can’t help it. All I can remember is Tess’s face and the pain staring back at me in those green eyes of hers.

“Cool it, Dawg,” Dusty says, and I barely resist the urge to tell him to f*ck off.

“Who is it, Marcum?”

He knows. I can tell by the look of him. He’s pissed, and he’s breathing fire. He’s madder than hell, which is good, but I need to know who the f*cking * is so I can end him myself.

“You need to sit down, boy,” Marcum says. I ignore him too, and remain standing there—just waiting. He crosses his arms and matches me stare for stare. It’s a battle of wills, but I’m too f*cking exhausted to wait him out. I cave and sit down.

“Jenna.”

My blood runs cold. That f*cking bitch. “Where the f*ck is she?”

“I have Ride and a couple of the boys out trying to locate her. She’s hiding.”

“She better be hiding deep,” I growl.

“Boy, you need to learn to control your shit. You can’t end every f*cker that messes with you. That’s what got you into this mess to begin with.”

“Fuck off, Marcum.”

The old man stands up in front of me. I know what’s coming, and I could fight it, but I’m not going to. I want the f*cking pain. It’ll give me something to worry about besides letting go of Tess. I wasn’t expecting Dusty and Bramble to grab me from behind though and drag me out of the chair. There’s a look in Marcum’s eyes that I’ve only seen one other time. The day they closed me up at the pen, and I told him not to visit me or have anything to do with me again. I blamed him for Renee. I shouldn’t have. I’m a sad ass f*cker. Hell, a part of me is blaming Marcum for Tess being shot.

“I allow you to do shit I’d kill other men for, Dawg. I love you, boy. You’re my blood, but you need to get your head out of your f*cking ass,” he says, and the hush in the room is huge.

He’s claiming me as his, even after I told him never to do that shit. The secret is out, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m too messed up in the head right now. His fist comes in contact with my jaw and my head jerks back violently. It’s a f*cking loaded hit, and I stagger against my captives as a result. I’m unsteady as hell from the direct hit, but even I can tell he held back. There’s a reason Marcum leads the roughest bunch of bastards in the South.

“Leave us alone,” Marcum says, sitting back down. Dusty and Bramble let me go, and it takes everything I have not to fall to the ground like an untried pup and embarrass myself. I manage to sit down and breathe through the pain.

The room clears quickly. When Marcum demands something, there aren’t a lot of men who wait around and question it—none that are alive anyway. He sits there with his fingers tapping against the table. His fingers are large and beefy; they are covered in ink, and he has huge rings on three fingers. One is of a skull, the other an insignia, and the third an eagle. The man is intimidating as hell, but his hands are f*cking scary. They would make a lesser man tremble and probably have; too times to count.

He relaxes in his chair and pulls out his smokes. He doesn’t speak but motions with the pack. Right now, it sounds like an excellent f*cking idea, and I take one. He pulls out his silver lighter. The cap flipping back and clicking into place is the only sound in the room. He holds the flame out for me. I lean in and toke as he lights. The nicotine blasts my senses, as I watch him light his own and close his lighter, putting it away.

“You’re being a stupid fool,” he eventually says.

“Probably.”

“Fucking hell, at least own it. Goddamn! Did that rotten blood on your mother’s side destroy you? Son, you need to start thinking with your head.”

“Lay the f*ck off, Marcum. You’re the one who put your dick where it shouldn’t have been.”

“That doesn’t mean you follow my path. Jesus H. Christ.”

“I f*cked up. I get it. But there was no way that motherf*cking piece of shit was going to draw another breath after taking my child from me. I squeezed the life out of him and rejoiced while I f*cking did it. You can’t tell me you would have done it differently.”

“I would have done everything different!” he growls, and he barely gets it out before I interrupt him.

“No, you wouldn’t have. You would have…”

“I would have sent that son of a bitch to hell piece by piece! What I wouldn’t have done was ended my own f*cking life in the process! Always cover your ass, Maxwell. You do not leave your ass swinging in the trees.”

“I…”

“You went off half-cocked, like a stupid motherf*cker and…”

“And did what a man does!”

“Really, *? My way, you’d be with the woman who is in the other room crying her heart out over you. The kind of woman who supports a man and makes him strong. Not tears his ass down.”