“If the state takes you, at least you’ll get fed,” Wrath said.
Marcel started shaking his head before Wrath finished.
Something wasn’t right. I tapped Wrath’s elbow and we waited in silence for the kid to spill.
Marcel seemed to be weighing his options. From my vantage point, I had to admit, they were all pretty shitty.
“I can’t get separated from my sister,” he finally answered. “She needs me.”
Well, fuck if that wasn’t the one thing the kid could say that would flick Wrath’s kill switch to off. He lifted his chin. “How old is she?”
“Almost two.”
“Ah, Christ.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Who’s with her now?”
“My buddy.”
“What’d you need the money for?” I almost feared the answer. Desperation made people do reckless things.
Marcel balled his fists and stared at the floor. “Groceries.”
Admitting that cost him. He was a proud kid. I respected that.
“You got any other family?”
“My grandmother, but she lives about forty-five minutes away, and Blake needs me too.”
“That’s your buddy watching your sister?”
“Yeah.”
“How do I know you’re not full of shit?”
Marcel lifted his head, a spark of insolence returning to his eyes. “Guess you don’t.”
I chuckled and pointed to the box still on the floor. “Give it to me.”
He hurried to pick it up. Slowly, he handed it over, as if he expected me to lash out.
The lock on the box hadn’t worked in years. I flicked open the box and shuffled through some cash, pulling out a few bills. I handed the box to him. “Put it back where you found it.”
While he did that, I jerked my chin toward the parking lot, and Wrath followed me outside.
“You got the keys to the cage?” I asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
I glanced inside the garage. “I'm gonna give him a ride home."
He cocked his head. “Why? You plannin’ to adopt him? Thought you didn't want kids?”
“Very funny. I like him. Think he’d make a good prospect in a few years.”
Understanding sparked in his eyes. “You wanna start stacking the club with people loyal to you.”
“Loyal to us,” I corrected. We both knew our current president had to go. In the few years since Ruger had taken over the MC, our quality of life had gone to shit. He didn’t value any of the qualities that had drawn me to club life—loyalty, honor, brotherhood. The reasons I’d brought Wrath and our friend Zero into the club. The things my mentor, Grinder, had taught me club life should be about. Eventually, Ruger would get one of us killed. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here.”
“He’s not a coward, that’s for sure.” Wrath glanced inside again. “He puts on a few pounds of muscle and works on that scowl, he could be your mini-me. We can call him ‘Rock Junior.’”