“Delivered the package, Marcum,” Ghost says coming back in and looking like he could kill someone—most likely me.

I’m a twisted motherfucker, but I had him deliver Toi’s cut to her. I thought he would call me on my shit, but he didn’t. Which is good, but frustrating. I find the more I think of the way he looks at Toi, I want to punch his damn face in.

He sits down and stares at me, his eyes locked on me and there’s anger rolling off of him in waves. I look around the group of men that have assembled around the room. All of my officers are here, along with the ones that once held an office and have stepped down for younger blood. I’ve not. Being the President of this crew is what I was born to do. Stepping down isn’t in me, even if some of these young fucks think it’d be for the best. I’ve been challenged a couple of times and I handed them their ass on a platter. I might have some miles on me, but I got a fuck of a lot more to go.

My mind instantly goes to Toi. She definitely deserves better, but I’m not giving her up.

“Have we checked into seeing exactly what Weasel was up to his last days?” I ask Ride. He’s my second in command, and the fucker that I trust the most, with maybe the exception of Topper. It just happens that Ride has the muscle to back up what needs to be done. Topper is deadly in a fight, but mostly because of his weapons. Fuck, I’d say Ride could rip a man’s head off of his shoulders with one hand. The fucker is that big.

“I still have some checking to do. Whatever the fuck it was, he was keeping it quiet and being pretty fucking stealthy about it.”

“Shit,” I mutter. There’s a course of grunts around me, because we all know that’s trouble. Weasel didn’t get his nickname without reason. “I’m going to call an old friend. He’s had some dealings with Kuzma. Word is that fucker works closely with the Garcias.”

“That’s an ugly can of worms you’re opening boss,” String warns.

“That’s why I’m opening it slowly. I’ll talk with Anthes about it and see what he can find out. Now, everyone go and do the shit that needs to be done,” I growl, tired already of meeting with them. They all stand up, but my eyes land on Ghost. “All but, Ghost,” I order. Everyone stops. There’s an undercurrent going on, and though they may not understand all of it—they understand enough.

“Brother—” Ride starts.

“Stay out of it, Ride,” I warn, my gaze not leaving Ghost’s. His stare is just as fixed. The room clears out rather quickly, and the door closes, but Ride is the one who closes it. “I told you to leave,” I yell at him again, still not taking my eyes off of Ghost.

Ghost takes his cut off and I do the same. We know what’s about to go down. This isn’t about the club. This is man to man.

“Way I figure it, one of us around here needs to keep our head on straight so you two fuckers don’t kill yourselves.”

“It’s none of your business,” Ghost growls at Ride.

“There’s something we can agree on,” I answer and I take my rings off one at a time, seeing how he is too. I don’t want it said I loaded the fight when I have his ass packed out of here.

“Whatever happened to the old saying, bros before hos?” Ride asks sarcastically.

“She’s not a ho,” I growl, and I can respect that Ghost answers the same, right along with me.

“She’s not yours either,” I taunt Ghost when we start circling each other.

He makes an angry jab at me, that comes nowhere close. It was done out of anger, but he hasn’t lost control; he’s merely feeling me out and wondering exactly when I’ll attack.

“You shouldn’t touch her,” Ghost yells, taking yet another jab into empty air.

“You’re pissed ‘cause you didn’t get in there first,” I mock, defending his blow easily. He’s going easy on me. Does he think I’m so damn old that I can’t hand him his ass? He’s about to learn that’s a mistake.

“She’s been through a lot. She needed time to heal.”

“She needed a man. Trust me brother, I give Toi exactly what she needs,” I smirk and he swings at me again. He almost gets me this time, but I still manage to side-step the blow.

“Are you going to hit back or dance around like a fucking girl?” he complains, irritated when he can’t connect to flesh.

“I’m just telling you that I have Toi taken care of. She even begs me for it and takes it so fucking sweet your teeth would hurt,” I taunt.

“Fuck, that’s low, Marcum,” Ride laughs, shaking his head. It is. I’m a fucking asshole, but it’s also exactly what makes Ghost let go of what control he had. He charges at me head on, crying out like a fucking wild boar attacking prey. He hurls his body at me and sends us both careening through the damn air a good foot before we crash into the table. The hard pine of the table slaps against my back and fuck, that’s going to hurt in the morning. Ghost clamps his arms around me, but he can’t dodge my knee that comes up to sucker-punch the fucker in the nuts. When he curls into his own body from the blow, I raise both arms up and chop down on the asshole, connecting at the side of his neck. He goes down like fucking lead.

“Get up, motherfucker,” I growl, kicking his sorry ass with my boot. He climbs up and he’s not bleeding and that needs to be rectified. I want him bleeding.

“You’re too fucking old for her and she sure as hell ain’t your kind of woman,” Ghost barks. I pop my hand out quick and hit him in the mouth. That’s what he gets for saying that kind of shit to me. Especially when it’s the same old shit I’ve been using to stay away from her.

His lip starts bleeding—not a lot, but enough that the deep red running from the corner makes me way too fucking happy.

“You don’t know shit!” I growl, even though he does. He’s not wrong. I am too fucking old for Toi and shit, she’s not like any of the other women I’ve messed with. She’s better than me, she’s better than any fucking other person in my life that I’ve had. She’s the kind of girl that can stand toe to toe with Tess and not be less. She fits. She’s the kind of mother I wish my kids always had.

“I know she’s younger than Dawg. I know that you have her tending to all those fucking kids like a damn slave. Fuck, half of those kids aren’t even yours,” he growls wiping the blood from his lip and succeeding for a minute, but only a minute because more keeps coming.

“They are mine.”

“Fuck. You took most of them in, knowing it wasn’t you who made them. Treated those whores like you thought they were worth something. Which is fine. You want to claim a hundred kids that you didn’t father, then whatever, but you don’t need to pass them off to Toi to take care of. She deserves better!” he growls and then he throws a punch.

I don’t dodge this one. I’m frozen, because his words surprise me. I didn’t realize my brothers knew that most of my children weren’t mine. Hell, even the twins aren’t mine biologically. At least that’s what the mother said. But they needed me and the mother was a fucking dime-bag whore. So I took them. Same with the others. Shit. If I want to be technical, the only child I’m sure I fathered was Maxwell. It doesn’t matter. I love them all and I claimed them the moment I knew they were growing. The kids don’t know, and I’ll never tell them. I’m their father and I dare anyone to tell them differently.

I fall back a few steps with the savagery of Ghost’s hit. Now he’s drawn blood too, but he drew more than me. The blood he drew isn’t visible, but it’s there. There’s only three people—besides the women involved—who know I didn’t father most, if any, of the children. They are people who I trust—or trusted—with the secret. At this point, I doubt it would hurt the older kids, but it might destroy Harley and Desi. I don’t like that my secret is out and eventually I will find out how the motherfucker knows. Right now, I just want him to hurt.

I push myself up and I throw a punch connecting with his stomach, and then another, another, and yet another. I let my rage fuel me. I try to concentrate in the area of Ghost’s ribs and I attack him as if my life depended on it. He gets in a few good punches of his own—enough that I know I’ll be wearing bruises tomorrow.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I warn him, though the words come out ragged and winded as we continue our fight. “Those are—” I take a deep breath and deliver one more shot, this one harder, meaner, and aimed for the fuckers face. I uppercut him and it’s so hard he instantly drops, his face going to the side at an odd angle. “—my children!” I growl with the hit, anger vibrating through me. I stand over Ghost and he’s out. He’s moving his head but he’s definitely down. I spit at the ground as blood begins to pool into my mouth. “You don’t talk about my kids. You don’t know jack shit, and you don’t go spouting off about them. Fuck, you know nothing about when it comes to my life,” I warn him and he better fucking listen. The next time I’ll end the motherfucker. No one brings my kids up in this shit. No one.

I rub the back of my hand against my busted lip, looking down at Ghost. He stares at me, but he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he’s taking my warning in. He fucking better.

“Marcum, man,” Topper says. He’s standing at the door.

“Motherfucker, doesn’t anyone know what stay the fuck out of this means?” I growl, turning to look at him.

“I hear you, dude, but we have a situation.”

“What in the hell is it now?”

“Harley and Desi are upstairs in Toi’s room and Harley, man, he’s freaking out.”

“Fuck…”

“It gets worse, man. Cherry is with them.”

“I told you sorry fuckers she wasn’t to get around my kids,” I growl, grabbing my cut and throwing it on, leaving my rings where they are. Even now, my knuckles are swelling.

“That’s just it, man. We were keeping Cherry under control. Harley followed String down the hall and we didn’t know it until it was too late.”

“Fuck. I should fucking beat every one of you dumbasses,” I growl, perhaps unfairly. Right now, however, I don’t give a rat’s ass about being fair. I take off toward Toi’s room, hoping I can stop it before whatever is going on becomes a shit storm.