Page 27 of Tav

Marx’s gaze lands on me, tipping his head toward his office. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding, take Blanche’s hand and lead her down the hall. I’m glad he didn’t want to do this in front of everyone. My pixie is a private person. It took me months to knock down her walls before she shared a sliver of information about her past, and I know that what she told me didn’t even scratch the surface.

Pixie walks into Marx’s office, head held high, and I shut the door behind us, effectively shutting out my MC brothers and nosey siblings.

“Take a seat. Would you like anything to drink?” Marx asks, holding up a bottle of whiskey.

Blanche nods once, then sits in the leather chair across from Marx. I sit in the one next to her, resting my hand on her thick thigh. I’m not sure if the gesture is to calm her or myself.Blanche takes the whiskey from Marx, shoots it and gently puts the glass back down, her face screwed up as the amber liquid goes down.

“Ask me anything you like. I’m an open book,” she says, looking Marx square in the eye.

“How’s your boy?” Marx asks, leaning his large as hell frame back in his office chair.

I notice Blanche stiffen, then give me a quick glance. She didn’t expect this from the Pres. She expected the head of the MC. The gruff, grumpy fucker that barks orders. She’ll soon learn that Marx may be all those things, but he’s also a man that is utterly dedicated to the family he has made here.

“Oh, he’s OK. Thank you for asking. Thanks for letting us shelter here, too.”

“It’s what we would do for any of the Ol Ladies. We’re a family here. Because you are Tav’s Ol Lady that extends to your children. But make no mistake, just because Tav trusts you, doesn’t mean I automatically do. I have a lot of people depending on me for their safety.”

Blanche sits frozen in her chair, assessing Marx. She sits silently for what feels like an eternity, Pres staring straight back at her.

She nods once before addressing him. “I understand completely. That is why I am willing to make a deal with you.” Marx’s brow raises at this. “I will give you Hammer and some of the people involved in the trafficking ring.”

Marx runs his hand over his beard, tugging when he gets to the end strands. “What do you want in return?”

“I want to personally end the men in the council and all the men in my family line.”

Her thigh under my palm is tense, the only sign that she’s nervous.

Marx grunts. “How many men?”

“Luckily for you, the bulk of the council is made up of my family. Six. I get all six Landrys and the other two council members.”

“Why.” Marx states. Not a question, a demand. This is where Blanche is going to have to trust us with her past, her secrets.

She chews her lip, brow furrowed before she blows out a breath and murmurs “Fuck it,” under her breath.

“My father is Mercy Landry. He is the prophet of Eden’s Keep. It’s a compound hidden in a nondescript woodland about 3 hours from here, on the outskirts of Louisiana. It started off innocuously enough, like most cults. Then they got greedy. The ones with the power got all the wives, and the young fertile women. The boys got shunned, abandoned in their teens on the side of the road, left to fend for themselves. My brothers were some of the first. We communicated in secret until I was married off at 18 to Royal Landry.”

My head snaps around to stare at Pixie. “Hold up, isn’t he Mercy’s brother? He’s your uncle!”

“Yup. That doesn’t matter in the Keep. The woman I rescued last Sunday, she’s my half-sister. Also, married to our uncle.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right,” she says on a tired breath. “She needed outta there because Royal has a buyer for their three-day-old baby. That’s why he has to die.”

I curse under my breath, feeling anger and bile rising. Who the fuck forces their nieces, and I know it’s forced because no one would willingly fuck their uncle, but who forces young women to have sex with them and then try to sell their babies? I look at Marx, who looks cool, calm and collected, but I can tell he sure the fuck isn’t any of those things.

“OK, and why does he want your boy?” Marx asks after a moment, a frown marring his face.

“That I don’t know. He has other sons, like Valor, who, until recently was on the council,” she answers with a smirk. “He’s come after us a few times before, and he only ever asks for Niko, never the others. Not even Elio.”

Marx and I look at each other in confusion. “Wait, you told me you escaped to your brothers when you were pregnant at 19.”

“I did.” She turns to me, her large dark eyes darting between mine, trying to work out where I’m going with this.

“So why would he want Elio? Or the others, for that matter?”

“He’s their father. Sage, Cove and Elio aren’t my biological children. They’re all rescues.”

---