#marcus alvarez

So here they were in this amazing suite in this amazing city. To celebrate their union properly.

“Enjoying the view mi reina?” Marcus asked, walking up behind her, hands on her hips as he looked out.

“Si, mi amor, it’s wonderful. I'm just glad I could enjoy it with you.” She turned her head to capture his lips.

“I bet we could really enjoy it.” Marcus purred and hitched her skirt up a bit, “I got your message.”

She grinned she’d purposefully not put her panties on and left them on the bathroom counter while he was in the shower.

“What message? This dress shows panty lines. I wanna look my best for dinner.” She teased.

“You are wearing underwear when we’re meeting Miguel and some other of his contacts.” He informed her.

She giggled feeling his hands smoothing her skirt up the rest of the way revealing her ass to him. As well as the tattoo across her lower back. His last name. He told her she didn’t need a tattoo to label herself his. But on a drunken whim she had gotten this. He would never admit how much he truly did like it.

But she could tell how much it turned him on that she had truly linked herself to him for life like that whenever he took her from behind.

“You think we’re high enough up that they won’t be able to see you from the ground?” He asked, groping her ass.

“Marcus?!” She exclaimed going to turn and smack his shoulder like he was playing.

“Hands on the window Mami, spread your legs, you started this game, I’m ending it.” He growled and smacked her ass.

She gasped but did as he said, “We’ll be late for dinner.” She tried to reason, though her heart wasn’t in her protests.

He didn’t reply, merely unzipped his pants. The sound of him stroking himself to make sure he was properly hard had her wetter than expected and when his fingers probed at her to be sure she was ready he chuckled feeling just how ready she was.

Without much more preamble he positioned himself behind her and thrust inside. She whined his name.

“That’s it Mama, take me like you always do. So perfect. My perfect pussy.” He growled as he began to thrust, gripping her hips harshly.

“Yes, oh Marcus yes!” She moaned loudly.

This wasn’t going to last long. They both knew it. But he would make sure she came as well. He always did. He moved one of his hands to reach around and toy with her clit. She whimpered and whined as all of these sensations drove her over the edge.

Marcus was quickly to follow behind her filling her with his white hot release. He pulled out after a moment and stepped back cleaning himself up before handing the panties he’d taken off of the counter to her. She was practically jelly legged and took the underwear before looking st him expectantly for a rag to clean herself out with.

“Oh no, you tease me, you go to dinner with my cum staining your panties. Put them on and get yourself together, Mama.” He told her.

She whined but did as he said. This wasn’t the first time she’d earned herself this kind of punishment in their games. But it was the first time when they’d be around Miguiel...so she didn’t realize he’d follow through. She should have known better.

She leaned against the window for a moment, catching her breath. Marcus chuckled and pulled her into a kiss.

“Te amo, (Name).” He said.

“Te amo, Marcus.” She murmured.

“Good?” He asked, she knew she could always back out from their game, he had to be sure she wanted to keep playing.

Chibs Telford

❀ ULTRAVIOLENT (reader insert, completed)

summary: A take on a scene from season 6, episode 1.

Y/N is a SAMCRO member and she ratted. Jax might have let it slide, but Chibs won't.

warnings: graphic description of violence

songs: Ultraviolence by Lana Del Rey, ecstasy by SUICIDAL-IDOL, Így hagysz el by Byealex ft Hiro (Hungarian song)

part I

part II

part III

Marcus Alvarez

❀ handle your own when you become a man (female oc, in progress)

summary: Veronica is a lone she wolf in the world of agressive and powerful men. She could always defend herself, always keep a straight face. Most importantly, they somehow always respect her.

Until one day.

When she has to do something that makes even herself question, what was she made for.

warnings: non-con discussion, extreme dubious consent, possible mature scenes

songs: Till it's gone by Yelawolf, what was I made for by Billie Eilish

part I

part II

part III

Happy Lowman

❀don't fall, just crash around me (reader insert series)

summary: As a woman in a motorcycle club there are some struggles unique to your femininity. However it gets to a point, where its unbearable. The only thing you can do, is lean onto your brothers for support.

warnings: attempted suicide, past rape, possible ptsd, aftermath of abuse

part I:

songs: Tears don't fall by Bullet for my valentine, City Lights by Motionless in White

part II:

songs: Down with the Sickness by Disturbed, lánc by Dzsúdló, Iris by Goo Goo Dolls

❀will be gentle (reader insert one-shot)

summary: You decide it's time to get your first tattoo, and who else might do it than Happy?

warnings: implied smut at the end, masochistic kink, slight dom/sub undertones, mentions of past abuse

Prologue

There weren't many memories from her childhood, and the ones that she did have seemed to be fogged with smoke, blocked out as a coping mechanism, and certainly not enough happy ones to cancel out the bad. 

Her earliest... her earliest was from when she was five, when dad had come into her room far too late at night. 

When he had touched her. 

She didn't remember much else, just his hands—calloused and large, a little damp and warm—running up her legs, touching her in places he most certainly shouldn't have. 

That became normal, his fingers on her body. Touching her in ways she noticed he did not do when anyone else was around. 

But mama never seemed to notice, never seemed to care. She certainly didn't care when she walked out the door and never came back. 

Her mother leaving only made things. Dad just kept coming into her room, more and more, until that night when she was twelve, when her legs had gotten longer, curvier. Her breast just starting to take form. 

That's when it had happened. 

She had cried for someone to help her, cried and begged for him to stop, but he didn't, and it hurt. Hurt more than her body, it hurt something in her soul. 

He had just covered her mouth and told her not to tell, that it was part of growing up, their secret. 

Their secret that made her nauseous, that sent tears to her eyes. Their secret that... if she ever were to tell, would get her in much more pain than she thought she was in at that moment. 

And so it had continued for years. Almost every night until that one day in the Clubhouse, that one rare day Dad had brought her along. 

She'd been sitting on the hood of a truck waiting as per her instructions, when he had emerged with the others. 

She couldn't help the way she flinched when he reached for her, pulling her legs away. 

That was the moment she knew trouble sparked, because Tio Donato noticed first, and his eyes never left her father, accusations behind their dark surface. 

A day later she found herself with the Presidente, and the VP inside her home, but Dad wasn't there. 

"Where's your father?" Tio Donato had asked, his voice a mix of business and casualty.  

"I don't know." she had answered honestly. "He should be back tonight."

Then the two men had looked to each other, some kind of confirmation flowing from one dark gaze to another, and Tio had kneeled in front of her. "Danika, is there anything we need to know?"

Her heart skipped a beat, but she swallowed and asked, "About what?"

"About your father." Alvarez asked, looking down at her with a tight expression she knew meant business.

Never lie to the club. Never disobey orders or ignore questions. Those were the rules... but...

"I don't know." she whispered, fear crawling up her heart. 

"You can tell us, mija." Tio whispered, setting a soothing hand on her shoulder. 

Maybe she had to... maybe this was her chance, and... this was the Presidente and VP, her father only ranked as the El Pacificador, which meant he was outranked here. 

She hadn't expected the tears that sprung to her eyes, hadn't expected to sob into her uncles shoulder for a good half hour as she explained everything. 

That, it seemed, had sealed her fathers fate. 

He was stripped of his patch that evening, though Danika had asked to let him live, the Club sending him away with nothing but shame. 

Under penalty of death Alvarez had threatened him to never come near Danika again, but Tio had sent her father away with bruises, broken ribs and a dislocated jaw. Along with the same promise. 

He had raised her after that, for years, through hardship and duty. Swearing she would not be hurt again. 

It was not until she was well a woman, and Tio had gone gray, that's when her world had gone to hell. 

Chapter One: SAMCRO

She was jostled inside of the truck as they moved around the corner, pulling up to the warehouse. The night was already far spent, but the movement was to be made now. 

And as much as she didn't want to be here, she was, acting under the only guise that would keep her alive for now. 

Danika tried to ease her racing heart, but knowing her possible fate was making it hard, especially when the swaying truck made her brush up more against the men at her sides, making them smirk and move their shoulders into her.  

She curled farther into herself, pulling her knees up, wishing there was a way to make herself smaller so that she wouldn't have to touch any more. 

"What's wrong, baby?" Whistler jeered. "I make you nervous?"

She tried to ignore him, looking away and moving her shoulder closer, using the curb they turned as an excuse to tilt farther from him. 

The fact that he was even treating her this way was bullshit, the man (or cerdo blanco, as she had taken to calling him in her head) was part of the Nordics, strictly prejudice and hateful towards anyone without white skin. Certainly he saw her as nothing more than an animal. Which was exactly why he would continue to torment her. 

This "deal" between the Nords and Mayans? She knew it would end badly. 

Just stick with the plan... stick with the plan. It would all be worth it. 

The vehicle stopped and they turned to her, Whistler's hand locking onto her bicep. "Come on, sweetie." he said, pulling her up, practically shoving her off the tailgate and from the truck as the other man got out as well. And, because he could, he then shoved her into the metal door, grabbing the side of it to start pulling. 

"Open it," the other man said. 

"Hey, check the electric panel in the back." one of the ones from the cab of the truck said. 

Whistler acknowledged them, then pushed Danika back into the alley behind the metal fence. 

She grunted and slapped his hand off when he placed it on her waist. "Don't touch me." she hissed, only to receive a smack across the cheek and feel herself get pushed up against the fence again. 

"Come on, man." the other man told him, jerking his head to the side. 

"Yeah... you're right." Whistler muttered. "Wanna enjoy this pretty little Mexi treat thoroughly." He put his one hand on her chin, grabbing her face up, the other had his gun, slowly pressing the barrel to her neck. "But don't make me use this, baby. Don't."

She swallowed, her eyes still set in defiance in the yellow lights from the alley, pressing her lips tightly together. "You know what Alvarez would do to you?" 

He leaned in closer, his eyes reminding her of exactly what was at stake here, making her a promise in that hateful tone. "Fuckin' nothing, because he wouldn't find out, would he?" He then walked away, motioning her along. 

She followed reluctantly as he went to check on the panel as instructed, but was startled by the sound of a gunshot from the alley. 

Danika spun towards the noise, the men running instantly towards it. Whistler dragged her along in the opposite direction of the other man, who bolted back to the truck. 

It was a matter of seconds before the sound of squealing tires, then someone shouting 'I got him', was followed by a few more shots and a crash. 

She felt her adrenaline rush as more voices sounded, and Whistler pushed his hand against her mouth. "Don't you dare scream, bitch. Scream and you're dead. Move and you're dead." he hissed, emphasizing his words with prodding his gun into her forehead. 

Danika held still, choosing to do as she was told even when he jumped out of the alley and fired off a few shots into someone she couldn't see from her angle. 

There was a pained grunt, then shots from an opposite gun. 

She saw Whistler's body shake with the impact of being hit, once, twice... several times, then he yelled and hit the ground. 

The gasp that came out of her mouth was uncontrollable, and she instantly jerked her eyes over to the sound of the voice that came from the alley. 

"Come out now," some grating male voice commanded. "Hands on your head."

Her heart was pounding, but she slowly raised her hands upwards and stepped out of the darkness, into the amber light of the alley. 

Bringing her face-to-face with three men, one much older, white hair, a squared jaw, the other young, blond, handsome. And the last with piercing blue eyes, but that was the only feature she made out clearly with his hood. 

"You gotta be kidding me..." the hooded one murmured, lowering his gun. 

"Mary, mother of Christ!" some accented voice suddenly exclaimed, and she turned to see two others jogging forward. "I leave you bad boys for two minutes and it all turns to shit!" He stopped when he saw her standing there, hands still in the air. His dark eyes registered confusion, then he looked to the others. "What is this?"

"Figuring that out," the blond said, then looked to Danika. "Why you out here with them?" 

"I—"

"No lies," the oldest growled. 

"It was a deal they struck, I didn't want to be..." she hated the way she sounded desperate, hated the fear in her voice. Hated that she was doing this. 

Without wanting to, her eyes jerked down to Whistler's body, which had stopped moaning and moving by her feet. 

"You an old lady?" the older one asked. 

She shook her head quickly. "No."

The hooded one kneeled down to roll Whistler's body over. "Clay, look at this." he said. 

"Shit..." the oldest one—Clay, she guessed—said. 

"One of Darby's guys." the young one shook his head. 

Clay looked at Danika. "Darby workin' with Alvarez?"

"I don't know everything, all I know is Darby struck a deal to tell the Mayans where to get your guns, part of it was Alvarez handed me over to Whistler for a few days... as... payment."

The blond looked genuinely disgusted, and turned to Clay. "What the hell is this?"

"Looks like Darby did make some new friends in Chino." Clay said. 

"Nords crew up with the Mayans, gives 'em numbers, access to guns."

"And a common enemy—us."

"Darby wants Charming." 

"And the girl?" the Scottish man asked. 

"I had nothing to do with it," she said, shaking her head. "Alvarez just sent me to seal the deal, they'll kill me if they find out I talked to you."

"You know who we are?" the blond asked. 

She swallowed. "Sam Crow."

"Alvarez's your pimp, or what?" the other hooded one asked, the one who seemed young and tan skinned. 

"He... it's complicated."

"We gotta get out of here." Clay said, then stepped forward and shot Whistler's already-dead body in the head, making Danika's eyes widen. 

"What about her?" the blond asked. 

"What about her?"

"Can't just leave her here." the Scotsman said. "Ye heard what she said about Darby, she ain't safe."

"Not out problem."

"Please..." Danika said, looking between them. "I have no loyalty to the Mayans or the Nords, I can do anything you need me to, just... don't let them take me back."

"What've you got to offer that we don't already got?" Clay asked, turning to her. 

She held his stare, willing strength into her voice. "Information. I was on the inside. I can feed you things you won't hear other places."

He scoffed, turning to the blond again, by now, she was beginning to piece together that he might be the heir of the SAMCRO club, the prince as some people called him. 

"Come on, Clay." was all he said. 

The old man shifted his weight, looking agitated, then pointed in the blond mans face. "If she becomes a liability, this is your problem to clean up." he looked at the Scotsman. "Both of you."

To her surprise, the Scotsman sided up to her, nodding. "Aye."

Clay just watched them a moment, then shook his head. "Let's move."

"What's your name, love?" the Scotsman asked. 

"Danika." she said, folding her arms up. 

"Chibs." he answered. 

"Jax." the blond added, nodding in her direction with a charming smile, then he jogged off after Clay. 

The next several minutes were a blur, between the brief introductions to the club dragging the bodies into the truck and into the warehouse and wiring it... Danika was dazed, to say the least. 

More so when she was instructed to get into the van they had loaded their stolen-back guns into and wait for them. 

She was leaning out when they came running, watching as they all hurried into the van, but not before Clay shot up the sign above the warehouse. 

It blew up moments after they were clear, erupting into a pillar of orange fire in the night. 

Her face reflected the flames as Clay leaned out and smiled at the destruction, then they were leaving. 

Leaving behind the destruction, the bodies, the criminalizing evidence. 

And her life. 

As the van pulled away, she realized heavier, that her old life had just gone away in the matter of less than an hour, for how long, she wasn't sure. Maybe forever. And now, whether she liked it or not (there was really no other choice) her life and just became entirely different. 

That reality hit hard as she was taken away from everything she knew by the men she had been raised to see as rivals, as she went home with Sam Crow. 

Right into the heart of her enemy.

Taglist: @itstoolateforroses

They talked themselves in circles pretty quickly and realized that nothing was getting solved this way. Creeper- ever the voice of reason- called a halt to the discussion.

"We ain't gettin' anywhere right now and it's lunch time. Time to feed the little princess. Give us time to think."

Angel nodded while the tios sighed heavily. "It's waited this long. Another few hours won't make a difference," Megan pointed out.

"Alright. Fine," Bishop agreed. " Let's see what we can find for lunch."

Megan laughed a little. "Spaghetti or mac and cheese?" she asked. "One or the other was the plan today anyway."

Angel perked up a little, but was interrupted by Marcus. "You don't have to cook, Poquito. We could order in..."

"Psh. I've already got everything thawed. If I don't use it, it'll just go to waste."

Bishop grinned. "C 'mon, then Poquito. I'll help you chop. Let's make spaghetti."

In the kitchen, Megan put Bishop to work chopping onion and bell pepper. She asked Hank to start the pasta and put the garlic breadsticks from the package into the oven. While they worked, she started making meatballs. She grinned as Creeper leaned on the counter next to her to ask about what she was doing.

Marcus sat in a chair nearby to chat to all of them and help where he could. Angel, on the other hand, answered his phone religiously. The big man seemed to be texting someone a lot.

About the 5ᵗʰ message that came through drew Bishop's attention. "You good, Angel? Your pop need you or somethin"? he asked as he started on the sauce.

Angel started a bit-surprised to be addressed. "Yeah. I'm good, Bish. It's Adelita wanting to set that meetup is all."

Marcus nodded. "Go if you need to. We can call you if we get anywhere later."

Angel glanced down as his phone buzzed again. "You sure? Cause the meet up is later, but it's further out than last time."

Bishop waved him off. “Go. Don't screw it up by being late.”

Angel looked to Megan with a grin. “Save me some leftovers, Shorty?"

She laughed and finished the last meatball before popping them in the oven. “Maybe. If you behave."

Angel scoffed. “Fat chance."

A few seconds later he was out the door and they heard his bike start up. Hank frowned a little. " He seems to be in close contact with the LO..."

Taza shrugged. “I think he's just petrified of screwing it up."

Once the food was done, they settled around the table to eat with Rex laying under the table with his tail wagging. They were discussing Megan's quince again when Taza's phone rang. It was his burner so he quickly answered it. After what sounded like a brief explanation, he laughed a bit."Yeah- Send him out here." He grinned as he hung up.

"What was that?" Hank asked as he slid his arm around the back of Megan's chair.

“That was Gilly. He got a call from the Reaper. Apparently, Happy is in the area and was giving a ride through call to stop in at the clubhouse," Taya explained.

Marcus frowned. “Isn't he supposed to be up north on business?"

Tazs nodded again with a shit eating grin. “He was. Apparently he ended up with Samdino and decided to check-in."

"On what?" Creeper asked."His president was just here..."

Marcus suddenly caught on and laughed, too. "Exactly. The Scot was here and so was Tig- for Megan's party." He looked at Bishop amused. “The Tacoma Killer seems to have adopted our princessa."

All of the men chuckled as Megan looked on in pure confusion. “What do you mean, Tio Marcus?"

Marcus smiled at her and lit himself another cigarillo. "Nothing bad, Poquito. Just amusing is all. Happy is known for being standoffish at best and often downright hostile. But when it comes to you- he just seems to have taken a liking to you. That's all, Babita."

Hank grinned and guided Megan to sit on his knee before pressing a kiss to her head. “As he should."

Megan shook her head and stood to start tidying the kitchen. “I think he's nice."

Creeper snorted softly and glanced around the table. "I vote we don't tell her," he said, quiet enough that Megan wouldn't hear over the clanking of dishes.

Since they were expecting company, the discussion of what to do about Galindo was tabled for now. Instead, after lunch, they all moved back out to the round pen. Taya saddled Rocket again so that Megan could ride while they all waited on the Sargent at arms of SAMCRO to arrive.

Once she was back in the saddle, Megan completely relaxed again. The men either sat in the patio furniture or leaned against the cattle panels to watch her and chat.

Creeper and Hank were talking about the next run as they leaned on the fence, when the big buckskin suddenly startled at something on the ground. He crow hopped and spun on his hind feet before rearing to stomp something in the arena sand. They both froze. Megan clung to his back and brought the squealing gelding back under control with the reins and her voice as all the bikers started to barrel towards her. “Stop!" she yelled, making them freeze a second. “There's a snake in here. I think Rocket got it, but be careful coming in."

Hank started forward anyway with Creeper right behind him, but was stopped by Taza's outstretched arm. “You okay, Chica?"

Megan sat up straight in the saddle from where she'd been soothing her horse. “Yeah, Papa. I'm good. Not sure if it got Rocket though."

Taza nodded. “Alright- Ride him to the gate. We'll check him out once you're on the ground."

“Yes, sir." Megan rode the shivering animal to the gate in the round pen where Bishop stood to open it for her. As soon as she was officially out of the round pen, Hank was right there reaching to pull her from the saddle. Megan allowed it when she saw her father with the horse's bridle in hand.

Her feet never touched the ground. In a few strides, her caballero had her sitting on the patio loveseat as he visually checked her over. “Are you alright, mi reina? Does anything hurt? Did you pull your collarbone?" he asked as he ran gentle hands over her.

Marcus stood just to the side listening intently as Bishop and Tazs checked her horse.

Rex padded up to sniff her all over as well and she soothed the giant dog with pets as she answered. “I'm fine. My saddle is made for me to be able to hold on when my horse rears or moves quickly. Besides, I had the reins in my bad hand. I caught the saddlehorn with my left."

"Are you sure, Babita?" Marcus asked.

“I'm sure, Tio. All good."

Hank sank to his knees in front of her and laid his head in her lap as he caught his breath. Megan gently ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to kiss the back of his head. “Easy, Baby. I'm alright. Breathe."

Hank found himself shaking a bit as he attempted to ground himself in her touch. “That was terrifying, mi amore."

“I'm sorry. I didn't think anything about it. A horse spooking is natural. Especially at a snake." She kissed his hair again. “I really am alright, though."

Hank nodded and sat up as Creeper approached with the stomped carcass of the snake on a shovel. “Good thing you stayed up, Little Princess. It was a rattle­snake."

"Shit," she sighed before raising her voice to catch Taza's attention. "Did it get him, Papa? It was a rattlesnake. We'll need the vet if it did."

Taza stood from checking the horse's legs and hooves. "Nah. I'm sure it missed or Rocket got it before it got a shot off. No swelling or heat. We'll keep an eye on him for the next thirty minutes or so just in case though." He patted the gelding. "You alright?" he asked-trying to be casual.

"I'm fine. Caught the horn with my left. I'll probably be a little sore from the jostling, but no damage." She smiled.

"Good, but I think you're done riding for the day. Don't think any of us can take another heart attack." Taza took her bridle off her horse to replace it with the halter and lead before tying it off to a hitch nearby. By the time he and Bishop made their way back to the patio, Hank had gotten himself settled down and now firmly had Megan in his lap.

They kept it casual, and talked about the bar and the scrapyard for about a half-hour before Taza confirmed that Rocket was fine and went to turn him out with the others. Before he returned, Rex- who had been just as firmly attached to his mistress as Hank- perked his ears up. A few seconds later, the sound of a bike in the distance cut through the conversation.

Megan grasped Rex's collar to keep him from going to investigate as Creeper stood. “Probably the Reaper. I'll go get him. Bring him back."

Marcus nodded and lit a cigarillo while Bishop sipped on the beer he'd just retrieved from the fridge. “Good. Let's see what Happy has to say about la princessa's CEO problem."

It wasn't long before Creeper returned with the other bald biker. Greetings were exchanged casually, but Happy's shrewed eyes kept coming back to Megan. "Outta the sling, Little Girl."

She smiled. “Yeah. Just yesterday. Down to a soft cast too."

Happy grunted. “Good."

Megan released Rex so that he could go greet the Son. He bounded forward to have his ears scratched.

After several minutes of casual conversation between the two clubs, Bishop sat forward. “We've got ourselves a bit of a conundrum, Happy. Wonder if you've got any insight to help us out.”

Happy chewed the toothpick between his teeth a moment and just nodded. He was sipping on a cold beer and perched on the patio table.

"We've got a problem with Galindo. He's way too interested in la princess. He keeps breaking protocol and seeking her out. Even interfered with her date last night," Taza explained.

"He been warned?" Happy growled.

"Several times," Marcus said.

Happy looked carefully at Megan. "How bad?" he grunted.

Megan shrugged a bit uncomfortably. “I'm okay."

Hank pressed a kiss to the side of her head where she was still perched on his knee. "Bad. He scares her."

Happy nodded and sipped his drink. "Time for a show of force. When do you see him next?"

Bishop shrugged. “We could call a meet."

"Do that. Got somewhere you can shoot without 5-oh on your ass? Meet there." Happy drained his beer. and looked at Megan again." You and me- we're going shooting."

Taza grinned at his friends before clearing his throat. "We can do that. Any particular reason?"

Happy tapped his kutte. "Sometimes they've gotta fear the Reaper. Sometimes-" he smirked "-they need a dose of the Unholy."

Creeper chuckled and looked to Marcus and Bishop who both nodded. "I'll make the call."

Marcus ashed his cigarillo. "Let him know I need a conversation."

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It’s been horrible couple of days, for him, for the MC, for his family, because that’s what you are to him, family. His daughter, born of fire and blood, the one that Ramos had tried to murder in her sleep, all over a grudge from something that happened when you were a child. Something you have no knowledge of, that’s he’s determined you’ll never have any knowledge of.

This book it plays a part in that.

As he reads it, he recognises the ramblings of the angry, violent man he used to be. The monster he calls it now, when he talks to Izzy.

He raises his head as Bishop enters through the stained-glass door. In each of his hands he holds a mug of coffee, the real stuff. Marcus would know that aromatic scent anywhere, it’s the same brand he keeps in his house. He sets one of the mugs in front of Marcus before he takes up residence in the V.P’s seat.

“Hell of a day.” Bishop says rubbing his hands over his weary features.

“Yea.” Marcus says as he picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “I’m just hoping they got the message otherwise things are about to get real fucked up.”

“Stockton was already fucked up. Things will change now Ramos is gone.” Bishop assures the other man. “Smokey’s tough, he’ll rein them in and the ones that don’t fall into line…I won’t shed any tears for them.”

Marcus shakes his head.

“I won’t either.”

There’s silence between the two of them for a moment, each man lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn’t have come down to this, they should have dealt with this problem long before Ramos had ever laid eyes on you.

“I haven’t seen that for a while.” Bishop utters, gesturing towards the book.

Marcus sighs heavily.

“Probably for good reason.” Marcus says before he turns the book towards Bishop.

The other man studies the words before shaking his head.

“It was a different time back then.” Bishop says, removing the cigarettes from inside of his kutte. He taps the box upon the table before removing one and placing it between his lips.

“We talk about women as if their property, something to be owned, to be traded when we get tired of them.” Marcus jabs his finger at the paper. “This book tells us their only good for sex or serving, it doesn’t talk about love or respect. Is it any wonder that charters like Stockton act the way they do when these are the values, we’ve instilled in them?”

Bishop lights up his cigarette, he takes a drag.

“The world is changing El Padrino. We have to adapt.” Bishop says as he taps the ash off the end of cigarette. “We care about our women here; we cherish them but other charters… It needs to be a message that goes out across the club. What happened the other day can’t be allowed to happen again, not to anyone. There needs to be repercussions for that type of shit.”

Marcus nods his agreement, his hands wrapping the mug.

“I’m proud of that you’ve done here primo, legitimising the MC, supporting the community.” He tells Bishop earnestly. “This charter’s become more than I could have dreamed of.”

“And all it took was for me to pull my head out of my ass.” Bishop remarks before he takes another drag on the cigarette as he watches Marcus withdraw an A6 notebook from the interior pocket of his kutte. He pushes it towards the other man with his fingertips.

“This is what I’ve put together, a revised edition of the by-laws.” Marcus tells Bishop before he drains the rest of his coffee.

Bishop reviews the changes before tapping his fingertip upon the paper and raising his eyes to meet Marcus’s.

“We need to talk about Taza.”

Marcus clasps his hands together, his lips pursing into a grim line.

“We have to lead by example El Padrino,” Bishop tells him, his voice gruff as he stubs out his cigarette. “He has suffered for so long under the weight of this secret, putting the club before himself over and over again. I can’t help but wonder how many other Tazas are out there, how many other brothers are struggling with something just like this and what happens to the ones that aren’t as strong as him.”

Marcus knows what he’s talking about, the suicides that leave no notes, the members that are quietly taken care of for an infraction that can’t be discussed.

“We have to do better.” Bishop tells him, picking up the cigarette box and tapping it upon the surface of the table.  “Every single one of us deserves to love who we love and not be punished for it.”

“You’re right.” Marcus says finally, picking up his pen and adding the amendment. “I’ll get this drawn up and sent out to the other charters.”

Marcus raises to his feet, tucking the notebook back into his kutte. His hand comes to rest upon Bishop’s shoulder, clasping it tightly.

“You’ve been leading the way for a while now, primo. It’s time for the other charters to get in line and follow.”

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