Marcus Baker Season 2 Novels & Stories

Marcus made his usual commentary, sharper than usual, more clipped, but present, still funny in the particular way he was always funny, finding the joke even when the joke was doing a lot of work to cover something else. It felt, almost, like a normal night. Almost. --- Later, alone in my room, I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling and did the math I had been avoiding doing out loud all evening. Marcus had one year of eligibility left after this season. One year. If he sat out the rest of this season to heal properly, he would be coming back for his final year having missed an entire campaign of game film, an entire season of visibility in front of scouts, an entire year of the kind of

The referee looked toward Sebastian for direction. Sebastian stood at the far end, arms crossed, eyes unreadable. He didn’t say anything—just glanced between Marcus and me. I stayed still, jaw tight. Great. Day two, and my babysitting duties were already getting in the way of perfectly good violence! Marcus glanced at me, then turned to the crowd. “Let’s not pretend I don’t need 24/7 protection. I trip on air.” A few chuckles rippled through the warriors. Some rolled their eyes.

Marcus set his coffee mug on the windowsill, and when he caught sight of the bruise darkening Sloane's temple, he straightened almost imperceptibly. He didn't speak immediately. For a long second, he just watched the two of them. Malik tried to bring back the usual light morning banter, but Lennox barely said a word. He just sat at the counter, as if the stool were pulling him down. Sloane tried to act like always—natural, light, a smile forced on her lips that somehow looked too thin, like a hairline crack in porcelain. Marcus didn't trust appearances. He waited until everyone was busy—Kenji battling the espresso machine, Diego going back for a second round of toast, Malik wrestling with a

The towering brick smokestack of the old Wonder Bread bakery looms over the rooflines of Corktown, its faded red lettering barely visible in the dark, a silent witness to everything. "This isn't over," Marks snarls. But he's already scrambling toward his SUV, his men retreating with him. "You haven't won." "We never lose," Julian says. "You should have absorbed that by now." Marks hurls himself into the SUV. The doors slam. The engine roars, and the vehicle screeches away into the frozen night. Julian spins toward me. His eyes blaze. "You recorded him." "Marcus taught me to be ready. I suppose some of her lessons took hold."

Beatrice Baker. The next morning, Marcus and Valerie left early for their appointment with Dr. Baker. Despite having a packed schedule, Marcus had rearranged all his meetings to be with Valerie, knowing how anxious she was about the visit. Sitting in the waiting room, Valerie was a wreck, her eyes glued to the clock on the wall. A few minutes later, Dr. Baker appeared and greeted the couple warmly. “Mr. and Mrs. Bartz,” the doctor said with a slight nod. “Please, come in. I can see those worried faces—am I right?”

Amusement. “You never do things the simple way, do you, Marcus?” Kane said, exhaling smoke. “Fine. We’ll keep him alive. For now. But you’d better make sure he doesn’t disappoint me again. Or next time, I’ll have you both buried together.” Marcus kept his face calm, but inside, his thoughts were a storm. Kane had let him walk away this time, but Marcus knew the man was suspicious now. One wrong step, one hint of hesitation, and Kane would unleash hell.

The golden scalpel didn’t hit her—it sank deep into Marcus’s chest. “Marcus!” June screamed. The baker fell back into her arms, the scalpel buried deep in his heart. But instead of blood, warm, golden light poured out of the wound. "I... I always wanted to be a hero in one of your stories, June," Marcus wheezed, smiling. "Is this a good twist?" “It’s a terrible twist!” June sobbed, pressing her hands to the wound, trying to use the Spark to heal him. "You’re a baker! You’re supposed to make bread, not be a shield!"

My boots hit the tile, dripping rain across the linoleum. Marcus was standing near the counter, hand on Tessa’s arm, too tight. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing when he saw me. “Well,” he drawled, that snake’s smile curling his lips. “The biker boy finally found his way back.” Tessa’s breath hitched. I could see her lips part — my name barely a whisper. “Let her go,” I said, voice low, steady, deadly calm. Marcus laughed, taking a step closer to her. “You think you can just roll in here and play hero again? You had your turn, Bishop. She came back to me.”

You have to appreciate the Aussies and their sense of humour, it’s top tier. I’m halfway through the first season when Marcus walks into the suite. He wasn’t at training today; he was busy dealing with the construction crews who are expanding the pack. And to think he thought the Luna role was a domestic one. “Oh, hey Yildiz, I thought you were at training,” he says with a tone of surprise. “I decided to call it a day when Evalyn knocked out Vitali.” “Wh… he touched her belly again didn’t it?” he says flatly.

"You've seen me try, multiple times. At the wedding, at that shitty party, and about half a dozen other times that you haven't been there for. "It's not like I can just swan into the mansion whenever the hell I want and corner the guy. He's hard to pin down, and he's not showing any interest. What do you want me to do, kidnap him and hold him hostage?" Truth be told, Becki is losing interest in Marcus. He's too much like Nicole – all upright and noble and goody-goody. Becki doubts if he's ever cracked a genuine smile, let alone had any actual fun in his life.