Fallon by Jessica Gadziala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

Fallon

 

 

 

We were ambushed.

That was the only text any of us got for an excruciatingly long time.

Which only happened to be ten minutes, but it might as well have been a lifetime.

We had no idea where our men were, in what shape they were in, if we'd lost anyone, if we'd have an impossible talk to have with someone's wife, with someone's kids.

The brothers who hadn't been at the clubhouse descended on it in mere minutes, everyone waiting on bated breath and in silent agreement that we weren't going to say anything to any of the women until we had more information to give them. We could worry enough for all of them.

Finn moved in at my side, casting a worried glance at me.

Because it hadn't been our father who'd sent the text.

It should have been.

In an emergency situation, it should have always been him sending the information. If he was able to.

It left us to assume he wasn't able to.

My stomach lurched at the idea. I couldn't envision a future without my father there, the strong, stable presence he'd always been, the man who'd snuck me drinks when I was a teen and my mom's back was turned, the one who'd bought me my first bike, who'd patiently raised me to be the man I was today, the fearless, unstoppable leader of this club, the man we all aspired to be more like.

It had been Repo, Seth's dad, who'd sent the text.

One glance at him said he was concerned, yes, but not sick with it like Finn, Niro, Malc, and I were.

The clubhouse was so quiet that when my phone started to ring, it startled me enough to almost drop it.

I didn't pause to see who was calling, just accepted, and brought it to my ear.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"It's me," Repo said, sounding winded. "No deaths," he said, making the tightness in my chest let up slightly.

"No deaths," I repeated to the club before switching the phone to speaker. "Any critical?" I asked Repo.

"Adler and Edison are rough, but they were conscious when the ambulance took them away. Slash... Slash was bleeding a lot," he said, making my gaze slip toward Sway and Crow, trying to gauge their reactions.

"He's tough," Crow said, shrugging.

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"Everyone is busted up," Repo said. "Fucking... everyone. Some of us crashed, others were hit."

"How? Where?"

"We're an eight-hour ride out still," Repo said. "North Carolina. I'll send you the hospital information as soon as I have it."

"Did you get anyone?"

"No, no. They shot from the top of an old building as we passed. By the time we dragged ourselves off the ground, they were gone. Nothing left."

"So they didn't take anything? This was just a kill mission?"

"Yeah, seems that way. I don't need to tell you Fall..." he started even as I was waving to the men gathered around, wanting some of them up on the roof, looking for threats.

"I know. I'm on it. What do you guys need from us? Do you want me to come?"

"No. No, Reign said to hold down Navesink Bank. Get the women safe. Watch for threats. Once we're sure that is handled, we will talk about getting us back there."

"Okay. Are you sure you're safe there? We can spare some men here."

"We'll all be in the hospital. Fuck," Repo hissed. "And the road doesn't seem safe for us right now. Stay there where you have strength in numbers. We'll be alright here until we can figure out the next move."

"Okay. Repo?"

"Yeah?"

"How's my dad?"

"He's alright. Physically restraining Pagan who wants to chase down the fuckers even with a bone sticking out of his leg."

"Okay. Updates as soon as you have them. On everyone's conditions. There will be worried women and kids."

"I will send them as soon as I have them. Gotta go. More ambulances pulling up."

"Okay. Be careful."

"Always," Repo agreed, ending the call.

There was one moment of silence as we thought about Edison, Adler, and Slash, each of us who believed, sending up a quick, silent prayer.

"Alright. We know this drill," I said, looking over at Finn. "Call Aunt Lo. She will organize to get the women and kids to Hailstorm. Malc, call the girls," I said, meaning our cousins. "They'll listen to you more than me. If you can't get them to Hailstorm, get them here. No one leaves this club without a crew of four. And only in the SUV. We can be picked right off on our bikes. Uncle Cash," I said, turning to him. "Maybe it is time to talk to the local allies. Mallicks, Grassis, anyone you can think of. They need to know what is going on."

What else? What else?

"West, call down to the Florida chapter. Tell them what's going on. If they offer, we don't need them up here yet. But tell them to be ready if it comes to that. Duke, we need some heavier artillery," I said, knowing he had access to the vault. "And some vests. Everyone else, go see Brooks for a guard schedule."

"Wait... where are you going?" my uncle Lazarus called.

"I... I need to make the hard calls," I said, giving them all a nod as I made my way down the hallway to my room.

They weren't death calls.

I could comfort myself a little with that.

But calling any of the women with bad news about their men made my stomach clench. Still, it had to be done. And I was the one who needed to do it.

Adler and Edison's women—Lou and Lenny—were both deceptively calm on the phone, even if I knew their minds were spinning. They were likely a little bit in shock. Once they got to Hailstorm, I was sure they would start pitching a fit about wanting to go and be with their men. But that would be a problem for Lo and Chris to handle. If it was decided that Lenny and Lou could go to North Carolina, Hailstorm certainly had the vehicles and manpower to get them there safely.

Taking a deep breath, I made the next toughest call.

To my mom.

Who thought my father was out of the woods when it came to all of this since he was stepping down.

"Hey, bud, what's up? It's late."

"Mom, dad's fine," I started.

"But?" she prompted, voice sharp, knowing. This wasn't her first rodeo.

"But there was an ambush in North Carolina. Adler, Edison, and Slash seemed hurt the worst. Pagan has a bone sticking out. I should call Kennedy," I said, talking to myself aloud, thinking of Pagan's woman.

"I'll call Kennedy," my mom said. "I will get to her before the Hailstorm troops arrive to shuffle us off. That's the plan, right?"

"Right," I agreed. "We're still waiting for information on everyone's condition. As soon as we know, we are going to send a crew down to pick up our men."

"Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to need to breathe," she said, voice soft. "I know you're stressed. But you are going to need to take an actual deep breath every so often if you're going to be able to get through this."

She was right.

I felt like I'd been all but holding my breath since the first text came in.

"Thanks, Ma."

"You've got this, Fallon," she added. "I'm going to call Kennedy before the caravan shows up and scares the crap out of her."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Love you, bud."

"Love you too," I said, hanging up, feeling a bit of weight lift at getting the bad news delivered.

I took my mother's advice, and stood in my room to breathe for a minute, getting my mind together, then making my way back out into the common area to find that Brooks had given everyone their assignments, and they were already hard at work on them.

"What's up?" I asked Malcolm who let out a deep sigh.

"Billie."

"What about Billie?" I asked, stiffening.

"Hope said she is refusing to go to either Hailstorm or here."

"Why?"

"Well, there was a whole rambling speech about not letting violence win. I zoned out," he said, shaking his head. "But we're going to have to go pick her up."

"Take Rowe," I suggested. "She's less likely to embarrass herself in front of him," I added. "Rowe, Malc, Sugar, and Virgin are on a team to go grab stubborn-ass Billie," I called, watching Virgin and Sugar nod from where they'd been looking at weapons and vests spread across the pool table.

"What about the others?" Seth asked.

"Malc?" I prompted.

"Hope is coming here. I couldn't get through to Willa. But she's always working late. She'll probably want to come here too. The others are going to Hailstorm."

I would have preferred they all go there where I knew Aunt Lo and Chris could keep them safe no matter what, but I knew better than to argue with Hope. And if we let Hope come, then a few of the others were going to follow as well.

We had fail-safes in case we needed them.

My father had re-done the basement to act as a shelter if need be. And from there, if there was a breach, the girls could get up and into the glass room which was—for all intents and purposes—impenetrable. The glass was made by DARPA to withstand just about anything modern militaries could use against it.

It would be fine.

We would keep them safe.

"Okay. Suit up and head out," I said, nodding to the four of them. "I want updates as you pick up each girl, and when you're on your way back."

My dad's trusty SUV was bullet-resistant. No car was truly bulletproof, but it would do the job. And once that was handled, everyone would be secured somewhere where they could be kept safe, no matter how ugly this might get.

There was a collective held breath until we got word from Aunt Lo and Chris that the wives and kids were safe, and Malc and the others were parking the packed SUV in the garage.

A minute later, in walked Hope, Willa, Malc, Sugar, and Virgin.

"Where's—" I started, trailing off when the garage door was kicked open.

And there they were.

Rowe and Billie, making their way in.

Or, rather, Rowe making his way in with an uncharacteristically irate Billie thrown over his shoulder.

"Put me down. I have plans this week. I have a job. I have clients!" she shrieked, banging her fists on Rowe's back.

"Keep it up and we're going to chain you in the basement," Rowe said, tone calm, casual, as he pulled my cousin off his shoulder, and put her down in front of me.

"Sugar couldn't talk any sense into her," Rowe supplied, meaning Billie's father that I'd sent on the mission. "So we had to fucking kidnap her," he said, shaking his head.

"This is how you run things?" Billie asked, jerking her chin up. "Letting your people manhandle me? I lost one of my pussy flower earrings!" she hissed, waving toward her bare ear.

"I need a drink," Sugar declared, closing his eyes at his daughter's outburst for a second before making his way toward the bar.

"Pour me a glass," Rowe agreed, watching Billie's profile for a long moment, but she refused to even acknowledge his presence.

I had no idea what had gone down between the two of them, but I had a feeling there was a story to tell there somewhere.

But there were more important things to think about, to work on.

It wasn't until we finally heard back from the guys—my father this time—that we felt like there was some calm in the club.

Repo had been right.

Edison and Adler had each taken several shots. Adler had skated death by a half of an inch, according to his doctors. Slash had needed a couple transfusions, but was on the mend too. Pagan had been rushed to surgery for his leg, but was healing up after. And everyone else had taken outright hits to minor areas, or had merely gotten grazed. Wolf had a broken arm from landing on it when he flew off his bike. And my father had a concussion and road burn.

But everyone would live.

And once they healed up, and we figured out who'd done it, they would go right ahead and risk those lives again to take the motherfuckers out.

After we got that call, the guys who weren't on guard duty finally dragged themselves off to catch some sleep before it was their turn to take over.

"You gotta get some sleep too, boss," Cary said, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he moved past to go catch a few winks.

I would.

Eventually.

When I could shut my mind up.

As it was, I felt wired.

So I went downstairs past the sleeping girls, then up into the glass room, releasing Brooks to go get a couple hours of rest while I looked around.

It was only while there that I reached for my phone again, seeing a notification for a missed text.

From Danny.

My heart seized in my chest, suddenly remembering that the Henchmen weren't the only targets of these fuckers, that the Vultures were at risk as well.

Danny was at risk.

Stomach twisting, I swiped through my texts to find hers.

From a few hours before.

All she'd sent was a question mark.

Maybe she'd heard about our men, was trying to ask if I was alright without giving herself away.

I don't know what possessed me, but my finger slid to the call button before I raised my hand to my ear as Iclosed the door to the glass room.

"Fallon?" Danny asked, voice alert, tight. Worried? She sounded worried, even if that went against everything she usually projected to the world.

"Yeah, babe."

"You're alive."

"Yep. You heard?" I asked. "I should have texted to warn you."

"I heard. I've been..."

"Worried?" I supplied for her, knowing she was tripping over the word.

"Concerned."

"Means the same thing," I told her. "Are you and your club battening down?"

"I don't know. I'm not there."

"What do you mean you're not there? Where are you?"

"On top of the laundromat," she informed me, making me turn in that direction as though I could see her. The sun was starting to come up, but it was too dark to see anyone.

"What? Why?"

"I was watching to see if I caught sight of you," she admitted, voice small, like she was afraid someone might overhear.

"It's not safe for you to be out in the open."

"I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing."

"My men knew what they were doing. They've been doing this longer than we've been alive. Doesn't mean a bunch of them aren't in the hospital right now."

"Did you lose anyone?"

"No. Thank God. We have a couple of close calls, but everyone is going to be alright after some time to heal."

"I'm glad to hear that. It's... it's not easy to lose men. And then try to keep the morale up after a loss. It's good you don't have to deal with that. Did they get any of the bastards?"

"No."

"Damnit," Danny hissed, frustrated. "Sorry. I mean, I'm not mad at your men. Just the fact that these fuckers have managed to do as much damage as they have already without us figuring out anything about them."

"We're working on it. Hopefully, some of our contacts can find some cameras or something. You need to get back to your clubhouse," I insisted.

I wanted to offer to drive her back. But there was no way for me to get away, not with all the men on high alert.

"I will," she said. "Has anyone asked you how you're holding up?"

"My mom," I admitted.

"Yeah, but you try not to worry your mom, right? I wouldn't know. I never had one. But if you need to vent, president to president, I'm here," she offered.

I didn't vent to anyone, not really. Because it was important to me that my men and my family saw me as strong and capable.

No one else besides from my father could truly understand anyway.

Well, no one but my father and Danny.

She should have been the last person I confided in. She was still the woman who stole from my club.

"I feel like I don't know what I'm doing," I admitted, leaning my forearm on the glass wall, looking in her direction like I could see her, like we were having an intimate conversation.

"Maybe that's just because there is nothing to do," she said. "You got your people safe, right?"

"Yes."

"And you are prepared and on-guard."

"Yeah."

"That's all you can do until you have more to go on."

"I feel like we're sitting ducks."

"So is my club right now," she said, and there was comfort in the solidarity. "But we are trained and aware. That's all we have right now. As soon as some information trickles in, there will be plenty to do."

"True," I agreed. "We need to figure this shit out. We can't stay on lockdown indefinitely. We already practically had to kidnap my cousin to get her to come here. All the others have jobs and shit. They can't just abandon their lives.

"Well, so far, it seems like they're only targeting us. Actual members of the club. I know you don't want to take chances, but once your men are back home, I'm sure the ones who need to go back to work, can. Even if some of your men go with them."

"Yeah," I agreed, taking a deep breath.

"Just a couple more days," she assured me. "Did you find out anything else about them?"

"Not a fucking thing yet. Do you have any contacts in North Carolina?"

"Yeah, actually," she said, interest piqued. "I'll reach out. I mean, it's just a couple of retired bikers, but this would be big news to them. They'd have already asked around just because old-timers like to be know-it-alls about this shit."

"Good. Anything would be helpful."

"I will text you sometime before nine p.m. tomorrow. Depending on when I can catch one of them on the phone."

"If I'm free, I will find a quiet place to call you back. Less of a text trail," I explained.

"Right. Yeah. It would be weird to be texting my gynecologist all the time," she said, making a tired smile tug at my lips.

"Right," I agreed. "You need to get home."

"And you need to get some sleep."

"Text me when you're back."

Shit.

That sounded a fuck of a lot like something a man would say to his girlfriend, not a president to his rival, or even a guy to a chick he was fucking.

"I... okay," Danny agreed, likely picking up on how ridiculous the request was, given our situation.

With that, she hung up, and I stayed up in the glass room, watching the roof of the laundromat like I might see her leaving. I couldn't, of course, but I did hear her bike when it purred to life, then headed off in the direction of her part of town.

My stomach didn't un-knot, though, until I got a thumbs-up text from her a couple minutes later.

Then I got to spend the next few hours until one of my men showed up to relieve me wondering what the fuck was going on with me. Or, more specifically, with Danny and me.

It should have been nothing at all.

Short of that, simply two people in charge sharing pertinent information that might save both our clubs.

But then shit got physical.

It should have stopped there as well.

Yet there was no denying that I felt something else growing between us. Sure, maybe an argument could be made for us being able to relate to each other because of our similar positions in life. But wasn't that true of all relationships? You got together because of some sort of connection.

"Christ," I hissed as I dropped into bed, reaching for the bottle of aspirin on the nightstand since my knee and shoulder still pitched fits after long days.

I needed to stop thinking about her in conjunction with anything about relationships. We weren't in one. We never could be. Even if I wanted that. Which, obviously, I didn't. I wasn't a relationship guy. Even if I was, I could never settle down with a rival club's president.

And I liked my women soft, for fuck's sake.

There wasn't anything soft about Danny.

Well, maybe that wasn't fair either.

Because a completely hard person didn't climb on the top of a building to watch your club to hope to get a glance of you, so they knew they didn't have to worry about your well-being, did they?

Maybe there was some soft under all that hard.

Which would make cracking open that hard shell all the more rewarding.

For someone else.

Not me.

As I was drifting off to sleep, though, all I could think about was what was under the surface, what I'd yet to discover.

As it would turn out, I'd get a chance to see.

But not until after the worst happened for her.