If you want a Bad Boy

Chapter 8

Brantley's POV:

I hung up my phone and slung it onto Roz's coffee table. I was furious now. This guy was bad news. Turns out, he wasn't just some run of the mill creeper. "What's wrong? You look angry?" Roz asked as she walked into the living room. I crooked my finger at her and motioned her to sit. She did so without complaint. "Marco Vincent. That's who that truck is registered to." I grabbed my phone, pulling up the picture my buddy sent me of the guy. "This your creeper?" I asked her. She nodded. "He's got several warrants out for his arrest. Assault with a deadly weapon, distribution and possession,, arson, aggravated rape... This guys got a criminal record that reads like a psycho start up kit. Turns out he tried to patch in and join up with one of the local MC's. That was a no go." I explained. Roz looked at me confused. "Patch in? MC? In English please, I don't speak biker B." She huffed. "To patch in means to join. MC, stands for motorcycle club. We've got a handful of clubs around these parts. Flying Aces, Road Warriors, the Atlanta chapter of Hell's Angels, and my boys, the Sons of Perdition. I'm gonna put a call in to some of the big dogs of the clubs. Put the word out to keep an eye on this guy. All our local clubs turned him away, there's seriously something not right with this guy honey." I explained. Roz sat there quietly. She blinked a few times, then sniffled. She tried to stop it but a single tear rolled down her cheek. She looked up at me, and my chest physically ached. "Brantley, I'm scared." She whispered. Hell. The tears were bad enough, but the fact that she was scared, openly telling me so, nearly killed me. I knelt down in front of her. "I'm going to ask you to pack a bag, and come stay at my place for a while. I'd feel a hell of a lot more comfortable if i could keep an eye on you. This asshole targeted you, and I'm not ok with that." I growled. She nodded. "Ok." Was all she said. I missed her head and helped her up. When she went to pack, I sat and decided to make a few calls. I was on my last one when Roz came back in. "Hey Snake, what's going on brother?" I asked the president of the Flyin Ace's. I had the phone on speaker. "Not much Boss. What's up? You don't ever call unless there's a problem." He said. "There's a situation. Marco Vincent tried to patch in with the Warriors awhile back and they ran him off. He's batshit crazy. Got a list of felonies as long as my arm. He's targeted a woman that I know, and I'm not ok with that. I'm putting the word out." I growled. I didn't like this asshole, but he was good for his word. "She yours? Or a bitch lookin to make her rounds?" He asked. Roz gasped. "Yeah she's mine. She's a good girl, she definitely ain't makin rounds Snake." I growled. "Easy big man, I was just askin. I hear what your saying. I'll keep eyes out for this guy, and you'll have a room at the clubhouse if shit gets real." He said seriously. "Thank you brother. I owe you." I told him. "Nah Boss. You don't owe me anything. If it was my ol lady in that situation, you'd do the same. Get me a picture of your woman and her information. We'll have eyes on her." Snake said. I thanked him again and we hung up. "I'm sorry." Roz said, she was standing with her arms hugging her waist, head down. "For what darlin?" I asked. "For being so much trouble." She sniffled. "Roz.. You're not any trouble sweetheart. Come here." I stood and pulled her into my arms, holding her while she composed herself.