Unwritten Rules (Filthy Florida Alphas 3)

Shit. I don’t know what Marcum is. I don’t know what we are.

Maybe there’s more than just two dark spots, after all.

I shake it off and take a quick shower. Marcum hasn’t showered with me again since that first time. Truly there isn’t room in here, but I always miss him now—which is annoying. When I get out of the shower I go to my bed and find a box laying on it. I had the door locked, so that in and of itself is worrisome. I tug my towel a little closer and look around the room, wondering if I should hurry and get dressed. I still seem to be alone so I open the plain white box. Inside there’s white tissue paper and a pink envelope. I take out the envelope and push the paper aside, finding a vest—or cut as Bab’s explained they’re called—that mirrors the one that Marcum had me wearing. It was his and it dwarfed me. It was heavy but it was warm and somehow comforting, because it smelled like him. I can tell right away that this one is my size. I pick it up, instantly missing Marcum’s scent on it. This one still smells like leather, though, and that’s close. It’s black, the front has my name embossed in white lettering and the club’s insignia beneath it. When I turn it around is when I lose my breath.

Property of Marcum.

Property… I don’t know how I feel about that. Everything in me should rebel, but I think I like it. My brain is such a mess, and I’m trying really hard not to think about my father. I just don’t think I can handle it all right now. So, I’m living in a world of denial.

I go to my dresser to find some clothes to wear. It won’t be hard. I only have a few outfits and I’ve interchanged the tops and bottoms a million different ways since being here. I hadn’t worried about it when I was planning on leaving. I don’t know what I’m doing in this new reality, so pretty soon I’m going to have to find a job—a paying one.

There’s a banging on the door that startles me. I turn around still clutching the towel.

“Toi! Harley and I need to talk to you!” I look at the clock and frown as I hear Desi. They should be in school right now. I grab an old robe that was here when I moved here, off of a hook on the wall and put it on. I barely have the waist cinched when the clamoring on the door happens again. I unlock it and it opens so swiftly that it almost hits me. Desi throws herself in my arms with such force that I stumble. I sit on the bed before we fall. Harley comes in behind her and Desi might be crying, but Harley looks mad. He’s got so much anger that I can almost feel it and it’s directed solely at me. Behind him comes Cherry and I immediately get a sick feeling in my stomach.

Whatever this is, it can’t be good.41Marcum“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.