“Kara’s father was killed in jail.” Marcos ran a hand over his head, his fingers sliding through the hair that was growing out.
My heart hammered in my chest at the news. Kara had to be devastated. I got up on my knees and walked across on the mattress toward Marcos, taking in his messy bedhead hair and scruffy beard thinking he never looked so hot. It wasn’t the time, but I needed to say something, anyway. “Hey,” I murmured, reaching out for him.
He wrapped his arms around me immediately. “Hey,” he murmured.
“I know it's not the time, but I gotta tell you before you do something rash,” I started, rubbing my hand over his bare chest while I looped my other arm around his neck.
“Tell me what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I like the longer hair and beard. They’re sexy as fuck. Please don’t cut or trim them,” I told him.
The devilish smirk he gave me had butterflies erupting in my stomach. My heart skipped a beat as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for an open mouth kiss. I moaned pressed closer into his shirtless body.
He pulled away before things could grow more heated and slapped my ass. “Get dressed, they’re already here,” he said, as a truck rumbled into the driveway.
I got up and finally looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was already after nine in the morning. “Fuck, I didn’t get up with Luke!”
“I’m sure Nico got him up and ready. Don’t worry,” Marcos said as he walked out of the bedroom.
I headed into my walk-in closet and pulled on the first outfit I could find. A pair of jean shorts from the day before and a clean bra and tank top. I dressed quickly before I walked into my attached bathroom. Running a brush through my hair, I sighed in defeat at unruly curls before I grabbed a hair tie and put my hair up in a messy bun.
My body was feeling better after my ordeal. It had been over a week since I’ve been home from the hospital and my stomach didn’t as much hurt now. Besides my mind being all fucked up, my body was mostly healed.
I left the bedroom and headed down the stairs to the first floor. I could hear the rumble voices as I descended. Johnny Taylor, Kevin Adams, and Derrick Halson of the Ravager Knights MC stood in the kitchen in their menacing leather cuts. Kara was with them, her baby girl in the car seat carrier on the floor at her feet, the little lady wide awake and cooing softly.
Kara looked up when I walked in and all conversation stopped when they realized I was standing there. “Hey,” Kara smiled. “You’re looking better.”
“Bitch, I look like shit,” I grumbled, earning laughter from the guys, but I walked over to her and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry about your dad,” I murmured.
“Thanks.” She whispered as she hugged back.
“How you doing?” I asked softly, as I pulled away from her.
Kara sighed heavily and gave me a watery smile. “I didn’t think I would feel like this, you know?”
“It’s a hard situation all around,” I muttered, “Things with your dad were never easy. It’s natural to be upset.”
Kara wiped away a tear and nodded. “They weren’t, that’s for sure.”
Nico walked over and handed us both a cup of coffee.
I smiled gratefully and kissed him softly. Turning back to Kara, I asked, “What happened?” I glanced at Marcos over my shoulder too.
“He was killed in prison,” Kara said.
I turned to face the rest of the room, leaning back against the counter and sip my coffee as I watch them, waiting for someone to say something. “Who was it?”
“Hillcrest,” Marcos answered. “One of his guys.”
My face paled and my heart sunk into my stomach. “Was it retaliation for me?”
“No, Maya, don’t think that,” Kara said immediately.
“Retaliation for a lot,” Marcos nodded his head once. “We killed a lot of his men that night.”
“Did any of your men die?” I asked, feeling foolish for not thinking of it sooner.
“None,” Marcos said immediately. He walked through the kitchen toward me, the other guys stepping out of his way, so he could stand in front of me and grip my jaw between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted my head back, so I was staring up at him. Marcos eyes were intense, but I held his gaze. “This was not your fault.” His voice was a low gravel that rumbled through his chest. “You hear me? This was not your fault.”
