“I don’t have an ulterior motive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Marcus said. “I saw a kid show more courage in five minutes than most people manage in a lifetime. It made an impression. Call it wanting to pay forward something I wish someone had done for me when I was his age.”
Jennifer studied him for a long moment. “Mr. Brennan, your criminal record indicates—”
“I know what my record says,” Marcus interrupted. “Assault, theft, disturbing the peace, and a handful of other stupid decisions I made in my twenties. I’ve been clean for twelve years. No arrests, no violations. I work as a mechanic in Phoenix. I pay my taxes, and I’ve spent the last decade trying to be something other than what my record says I am.”
“And yet you still wear the vest of a motorcycle club with a reputation for violence?”
Marcus didn’t flinch. “The Iron Serpents are family. Yeah, some members have done things I don’t agree with, but they gave me a place when I had nowhere else to go. I don’t apologize for that.”
Jennifer made a note on her pad, and Marcus resisted the urge to grab it and see what she was writing. He’d come here voluntarily because Thomas had asked him to, because Ethan had looked at him with something like trust, and Marcus didn’t want to be the reason that trust was misplaced.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Mr. Brennan,” Jennifer said finally. “If Thomas wants you involved in his children’s lives, that’s his decision. You haven’t given me any reason to object beyond your association with the Iron Serpents. But understand that if anything—anything—puts those children at risk, I will step in. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
She stood, extending her hand. Marcus shook it, noting the firm grip that spoke of someone who’d learned to command respect in rooms full of people who didn’t want to give it.
As Marcus left the office and walked back to his bike—Rick had driven it to Flagstaff when the Iron Serpents had eventually continued their trip without him—he found himself thinking about the strange turn his life had taken. Four days ago, he’d been cruising through Arizona with his brothers, thinking about nothing more complicated than where they’d sleep that night and when the next rally was scheduled. Now he was tangled up in the lives of a family he barely knew, making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep, and genuinely caring about whether an eight-year-old boy thought he was worth trusting.
His phone buzzed. A text from Thomas. “Bringing Lily home from hospital today. Ethan wants to know if you’re still planning to show them your bike. No pressure.”
Marcus found himself smiling despite the autumn chill in the air. He typed back, “Tell him I keep my promises. When’s good?”