“Ironbound runs drugs through three counties. Much like your grandfather, they traffic women, only on a much larger scale.”
My mouth falls open.
He continues, “And not as a side operation, like Vulture did it. Trafficking is Darkness’ primary way of earning money. He’s ruthless about it.”
I start protesting, “My grandfather wouldn’t do something like that!”
“I’m only sayin’ what I heard. You’ll eventually have to make peace with that in your own way. But there’s something else you need to know about that family. Darkness has a biological brother. He’s currently serving twenty-five to life for domestic violence. He beat his wife so severely she wound up crippled for life. Rather than surrender when the police came to arrest him, he led police on a car chase across two counties,causing two wrecks that injured three more people. The judge threw the book at him.”
I listen, not sure what this has to do with my situation.
“Darkness is not the kind of man you want to end up married to or an enemy with. Trust me on this. He would take the inheritance of yours in a heartbeat and use those trucks to move drugs and illegal weapons. He would love to get his hands on your trucking company, but we can’t let that happen because he’d turn that hometown of yours into a dystopian nightmare within a month. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
I nod, feeling so many things at once that I can’t process them all. “I’d heard he was an extremely dangerous man. I guess now I finally know why.”
“People call the Sons of Rage feral. That description fits Darkness a hell of a lot better than it fits us. The difference is that we have lines we don’t cross. Darkness not only doesn’t have lines, but he’s also impulsive as fuck and enjoys cruelty. Whether you marry me or not, stay the fuck away from him.”
“So my choice is you or him, right?”
“Unfortunately, it looks that way from where I’m sitting,” he responds. “If you choose me, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you from him and keep him out of our new territory.”
“When you put it that way, then I guess I choose you. But I want some assurances that you aren’t gonna pressure me for sex, try to get me to quit my job or my online business classes or try to get me to sell the home he left to me. That’s my childhood home and I want to keep it.”
Something in Mica’s expression changes. For a moment he looks offended but then relaxes and seems less tense, relieved even. “I can do that,” he says. “I would never ask you to give up your home or do shit like that. I have principles.”
“Alright,” I say with a sigh. “I’m sure you have stipulations as well.”
“Of course I do. The respect of my family and club brothers is very important to me,” he states. “I’m not gonna be humiliated by you. So, for the duration of our marriage, I don’t want you flirting or hanging out with other men. No extramarital sex. In order for the council to even consider giving us Vulture’s territory, our marriage needs to be one hundred percent believable. In public we present as newlyweds in love. Our wedding will be a huge event at the Sons of Rage compound, and we’ll spend our wedding night together at the Sons clubhouse. You’ll wear my cut and allow me to protect you as I see fit.”
“That’s a lot,” I tell him, trying to imagine what all that would look like.
“I’m not finished yet. As my wife, you’ll spend my money. Save yours for college. And you’ll be at my side for all family and public events, no questions asked. All scheduling conflicts land in my favor. I want you at the meeting with the regional council and you’ll speak up, requesting that Vulture’s territory be awarded to your husband.”
“That’s enough,” I say. “More than enough actually.”
“I’m not finished,” he says.
“Good god, what else could you possibly want from me?”
“From now on, I’ll carry a helmet for you in my rear storage compartment, and you’ll ride on the back of my bike when we’re together.”
“I have a car. It’s a ‘69 Nova that my grandfather restored for me. I’m partial to driving it.”
I get another lopsided smile. “You were named after his favorite car? That’s interesting.”
“Don’t start. No one bats an eyelid when people are called Mercedes,” I mutter.
“Yeah, but the name came before the car,” he retorts.
“Smartass.”
“I told ya, I’m the smart one in the family.”
I bite the inside of my mouth to stop the smile forming. “I don’t care one way or another about that. I’m more interested in making sure all the things we talked about end up noted somewhere.”
“We can create a marital contract that spells it all out in detail,” he assures me.
“Is that like a prenup?” I ask, feeling a little more confident about the arrangement.
