Fallon by Jessica Gadziala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

Fallon

 

 

 

I had feelings for her.

It was as simple—and complicated—as that.

I'd been suspecting it for a while, what with the way my mind kept circling back to her no matter what I was doing. And not just running a highlights reel about fucking her, but wondering what she was up to, what kinds of movies she was always running off to, what her daily life looked like in the club, if I would happen to run into her again.

Then when she showed up at the door, and I got to see not just the MC president, and not just a woman who I really liked to fuck, but the woman she was?

Yeah, there was no denying it anymore.

I had caught some feelings.

And they were unexpectedly soft in ways I never could have seen coming.

I'd never been a soft man. Not in life, and never in bed. Sex had always been a mutually fun exercise for my partners and me. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was just sex.

But I couldn't call what happened in my room with her the night before "just sex." It would be disingenuous. It would be lying to myself.

And all during and after her breakdown, I felt the unexpected urge to wrap her up, to protect her from the world.

Danny.

Protect Danny from the world.

When, really, the world probably needed to be protected from Danny.

And, quite frankly, I'd seen it often enough in my parents' generation as well as my own what it meant when a man suddenly felt protective and possessive and soft toward a woman.

Of course, I always figured I would settle down someday. It came with the territory. All my father's men did it. Mine were starting to as well. You let yourself wild out for a few years, and then the right woman came—usually at the wrong fucking time—and you wifed her up, you had kids with her. That was how it went. That was what I saw for myself.

Someday.

You know, way, way in the future.

I felt like I was just getting my life together.

It was the worst time.

"Fuck," I hissed to myself, realizing I was following the playbook my brothers before me had written out and lived by.

Right woman, wrong time.

Yep.

That sounded about right.

When I rolled out of bed the next morning, I found Dezi and Crow had been replaced by Niro and his father, the stubborn-ass who refused to slow down even with a pretty severe leg break. The man was full of pins for fuck's sake. But like my father figured out long ago, and I was beginning to as well, you couldn't keep Pagan down.

I'd offered them coffee, and they'd given me what was left of the bagels they'd picked up on their way over.

"Shit," I said immediately when I saw Danny—looking better than she had any right to in my t-shirt—peeking out into the kitchen from the hallway. Pressing a finger to my lips, I nudged her back inside my bedroom, closing the door, and randomly clicking something on the TV to create some noise.

"Guards," she guessed, nodding.

"Yeah. Gonna have to keep you in here and quiet for the moment. Did you need something?" I asked.

"Coffee," she said, sounding desperate. "To help me choke down some aspirin," she added. "My head is killing me."

She didn't need to say it was from crying. We both knew.

"How do you take it?"

"Black. Sugar. And was that a bag of bagels?" she asked, perking up a bit.

"Yeah. What do you like?"

"Anything but everything or garlic," she said. "And plain."

"No butter or cream cheese?"

"Nope."

"You're an interesting woman, Danny," I declared, moving off to get us each some breakfast.

Back in my bed, we both looked at the random movie on the TV, but neither of us seemed to be watching it, getting lost in our own thoughts instead.

"I can go if you distract the guards," she said what seemed like hours later.

"What?"

"I, you know, I busted in on you. I don't want to overstay. I had no money last night, but now that the bank is open, I have access to some. I can get a room somewhere, and—"

"No," I cut her off.

"No?" she asked, glancing over at me, face carefully guarded, giving nothing away.

"No. You can stay here."

"Fallon..."

"You're staying here," I insisted again. "First, you're safer here. Second, I get to watch more movies and eat shitty food with you if you're here. Can't do that if you're in some motel somewhere."

"Your men..."

"Yeah," I agreed, taking a deep breath followed by a sip of coffee, trying to force my thoughts to come out in a way that wouldn't freak her out. "I am going to have to handle that."

"Handle it how? You need them here to protect you."

"Us," I corrected. "But yeah, I agree. I can't just tell them to leave. Which is why I need to handle the situation."

"How though?"

"I'm going to come clean about us," I told her.

"What? No. You can't do that."

"I can, actually. I'm going to."

"Do you want to lose your club too?" she asked, sounding choked. "I can't be responsible for that."

"It won't happen, babe," I told her, reaching out to give her thigh a squeeze. "Our club dynamics are different. These people are my family. They won't kick me out. They might have some choice things to say, but they're rational. They'll listen, and let me explain."

"Explain what, though?" she pressed. She needed to hear it. I needed to say it. It was just going to be confusing if we didn't clear this shit up already.

"Explain that you and I are a thing now."

"We're not a—"

"Aren't we, though?" I cut her off because she could convince herself otherwise. "I mean, yeah, it started as just fucking. But I think we are past that."

"Because we watched movies together?"

"Because, whether we understand it or not, we both want more than just fucking," I clarified. "Are you going to try to tell me you don't?"

"I... we can't want more than just fucking. I don't... I don't do more than just fucking," she added, looking confused.

"I don't either. But here we are. Look, I'm not getting down on one knee and shit, but I'm saying I think we have a connection here. And if we are going to explore that, my club needs to know. I can't keep them in the dark. It's not right."

"And what if they aren't as calm and rational as you think they will be? What if they want you to get rid of me?"

"Babe, my club and my family can give me all the opinions they want, but I'm a grown-ass fucking man, and they aren't going to tell me who I can or can't date. It's that simple."

"You hope it's that simple."

"You're a fucking headache, you know that?" I asked, shooting her a smirk.

"Yes, I do," she agreed, smiling back. "But you're the masochist who wants that pain all the time."

"That's true," I agreed.

"When are you going to talk to them?" she asked.

"Soon. Today."

"Oh, okay. Well, I will get dressed and head—"

"Babe, you're not heading anywhere but on the back of my bike," I cut her off.

"You can't be serious," she said, face twisting. "There's no way you want me to come with you."

"Actually, I do. For several reasons. One, to explain about us. And two, to explain about what happened with your club. Which is also something they need to know about."

"They're not going to be happy."

"They'll get over it," I said, shrugging. "After we handle that shit, we can get you your money. Don't want you feeling like you are stuck," I told her. "If everything looks alright after that, maybe we can drop by a store, grab you some shit since you had to leave it all behind. What?"

"I've spent my entire life around men," she said, brows scrunched. "I'm not sure any of them would realize it's important for me not to feel dependent on them. Or, you know, know that living in their t-shirts isn't acceptable."

"I mean, I'd prefer you live naked, but it's probably not practical. What?" I asked when she went from a smirk to a frown in a blink.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" she asked, looking up at me with round eyes, more than a little bit of vulnerability there. I liked that look on her. I didn't like that she had to go through hell to show it to me, but I was glad I got to be on the receiving end of her trust in that way. "I worked my whole life training to be a president. How the hell do those skills transfer to real-life situations?"

"Don't know, babe," I admitted, not sure what I'd be qualified to do if I hadn't been handed the job I had now. "But you'll figure it out. After we figure all this other shit out. Finish your coffee. I'm gonna jump in the shower, and then we will get going," I said, climbing off the bed.

I shot off a text before showering, asking everyone who wasn't hung up to come into the clubhouse for a makeshift church meeting.

After Danny got herself together too, I led us out of the front door and onto the porch where Pagan and Niro sported nearly identical looks of surprise.

"Yeah, I know," I said, nodding at them. "I only want to explain it once, so we will talk about it at the club," I told them, nodding toward the truck that Pagan had driven in since he couldn't exactly use his bike with his bum leg.

With that, we made the short drive into town, into the grounds.

"Come on," I said, urging Danny forward when she didn't immediately follow behind the guys and me. "It won't be that bad," I added, giving her hip a small squeeze.

"Yeah, okay," she said, rolling her eyes, but following me inside.

The clubhouse was packed. It didn't look like many of the guys had been held up. The ones who were must have been working bodyguard duty with the cousins.

Everything was normal—many separate conversations going on at once—until they heard the garage door close behind us. They turned. Looked at me. Then looked behind me.

And then there was silence.

Absolute silence.

"Fallon, the fuck?" my father asked, one brow raised. "What is she doing here?" he added.

Danny moved out from behind me, chin lifting, shoulders squaring, refusing to show them how worried I knew she was.

I was just opening my mouth to explain when Dezi moved out of the kitchen with a giant serving bowl full of what looked like a combination of all the cereals that were in the cabinet.

He was just raising a spoonful to his mouth when his gaze landed on Danny and me.

"Oh, you're finally going to tell 'em you two have been fucking?" he asked.

The shock was a kick to the gut, nearly knocking me back a foot as a mix of stunned silence and hushed whispers broke out in the crowd.

"Well, thanks, Dezi. Always so fucking helpful," I said, shaking my head at him.

"You're fucking a rival president?" my Uncle Cash asked, uncharacteristically grim.

"Technically, no," Danny said, tone casual, even if I knew she was anything but. "I'm not president anymore."

"What?" my father asked, brows furrowing.

"It's a lot," I agreed, nodding at my men. "The short of it is this. Dezi is right. Danny and I have been..."

"Fucking," Danny supplied, shooting me a confused look, like she didn't know why I was trying to be delicate about the subject.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Since the night of the shooting. I mean, a couple times," I added, softening the blow of the betrayal a bit. "And we'd also agreed to share information on the threat coming for our clubs. But, of course, we haven't had anything to go on."

"Fallon, man..." Seth said, shaking his head at me.

"I know," I agreed. "I expect you guys to be confused and pissed or even to feel a little betrayed. But I am also here to tell you that whatever this is with Danny and me, it's more than casual now. But it is also important to note that Danny is no longer president of the Vultures," I said, giving her wrist a reassuring squeeze, knowing saying it was rubbing salt in an open wound.

"Break it down," my father demanded, jaw a little tight, but somehow less shocked or outraged than the others seemed to be.

"Danny's VP is a world-class dickhead. He'd been plotting a coup for a while. Last night, they kicked her out of the club."

"How?" my father asked. "How would that stand? This wasn't a stand-alone club. The other clubs wouldn't put up with that."

"Well, they will when they find out I'm involved with Fallon. This club might be able to accept your president fucking another MC president, but my club wasn't about to accept their president getting fucked by another president."

"That's sexist, is what that is," Dezi declared, clucking his tongue.

"Yes, it is," Danny agreed. "But it is how it is. And there's jackshit I can do about it now."

"So, what?" Renny asked, the resident club profiler, a guy who liked to poke buttons just to see you squirm. "We are supposed to accept that she's not some sort of plant? That she's not here to fuck things up from the inside?"

"If you recall," Danny said, unfazed by Renny's intense eye contact, "I didn't need to infiltrate your club to take what I wanted from you."

"Not helping," I grumbled under my breath.

"It's what happened," Danny said, rolling her eyes at me. "Pretending it didn't isn't going to make this situation any easier for your people to accept. Look, I get it," Danny said, exhaling a deep breath. "I told Fallon he was out of his mind to think you guys would just accept this. It's fine. I'll go," she said, sounding a little choked up. When I glanced down, her eyes were glistening.

"Danny..."

"Don't soft-voice me," she snapped, yanking away from me when I tried to reach for her. "I told you this would happen. I told you. And then you had to act all positive and certain that I was wrong, and you were right, and you made me hope, you asshole. You gave me a little hope. You made it worse. This is worse..." she choked out, pulling away, and rushing back out into the garage.

"Huh," Renny said, lips pursing, head nodding. "Yeah, don't think she was faking that shit. You?" he asked, looking over at my father.

"I know that woman is about five minutes away from a breakdown," my father said. "I'd expect the son I raised would be there for his woman rather than standing here and staring at us," he added.

"I can't go back out there without answers," I told them. "She'll rip my eyes out," I added, getting a snort from a few of the guys in the group who had similarly sharp-clawed women.

"Answers?" my father asked. "Last time I checked, you're the one in charge, kid. Who you're with isn't our business."

"You know this is more complicated than that."

"I know you were raised right. I know everyone else in this club had a hand in doing that raising," he said, waving a hand toward the OG members who'd acted as uncles to me for most of my life. "And because I know that, I know you would never do anything to put this club in jeopardy. If you say Danny is on the up-and-up, we'll believe you."

"I don't just need you to believe me," I told them, even as I felt some of the weight shifting from my shoulders. "That woman just had every single person she trusted turn on her in an instant. She doesn't need everyone here treating her like everything she does is suspect. So, you need to believe me. But you also need to accept her."

"We can do that," my father said, nodding. "Right?" he added, waiting for everyone else to start nodding.

"You're on your own with the girls, though," Malc said, shooting me a smirk.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and not mention that to her yet," I told them, grimacing.

"Probably smart," Malc agreed.

"Sounds like she's going to punch her way through that garage door if you don't get out there," Pagan said, smiling big. "Like her spirit," he added.

"Go on. Get your girl. We'll accept her," my father reassured me.

And to the sound of something slamming against the garage door, I turned around and moved out there.

"Don't," she snapped, lowering the chair she was hauling at the locking mechanism. Like brute force would make it disengage.

"Babe—" I started.

"Don't 'babe' me," she hissed, breath heaving hard. "You made me trust you, and you fucked me over. I'm so sick of getting fucked over. My entire fucking life," she raged, tossing the chair, not even flinching when it slammed into a pile of crap stacked in the corner, making half of it scatter. "I thought you were different. And your people. I thought they were different too. But all they see is—"

"Danny. Christ. Shut up," I said with a smile.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?" she growled. Oh, and it was a feral sound, too.

"Yeah, 'cause I need to get a word in."

"I don't give a fuck if you need to deliver a speech to the human race about fucking aliens invading, you don't tell me to shut up. Ever."

"Aliens, huh? You're one of those tin-hatters?"

"Don't look at me like that. The Pentagon pretty much just said they're real and they've been here, so I'm not the crazy one in this instance."

"Okay, we're going to circle back to that in just a minute," I said, barely able to hold in a laugh. "But right now, I need you to let me talk, okay?"

"So long as you understand that if you tell me to shut up again, I'm going to cut your tongue out."

"My mom would hand you the scissors. My aunts would hold me down for you," I added, watching as she struggled to hold back a smile.

"Okay. Fine. Talk," she said, folding her arms over her chest, so used to guarding herself that it was knee-jerk.

"If you'd have stayed in there instead of trying to destroy the garage, you would have heard them say they trusted my judgment, and that they would accept you."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit."

"If it looks like bullshit and sounds like bullshit, then it probably is bullshit," she said.

"Christ," I sighed, reaching up to rub my temples. "If you don't believe me, come back in, and let them tell you themselves."

"I can't go back in there," she said, shaking her head.

"Come on, don't be so chickenshit," I said, goading her on purpose, knowing it was the easiest way to get what I needed out of her.

"Did you just call me chickenshit?" she asked, voice deceptively calm.

"I did. Because that's what you're being." When all she did was glare at me with small eyes, I made a low clucking noises under my breath. "Where are you going?" I asked as she charged past me. "I thought you said you weren't going back in there," I added, following her into the clubhouse.

"I have to go back in here if I'm going to find a knife to cut your tongue out with," she said.

"I didn't say to shut up," I reminded her as she moved behind the bar.

"Yeah, well, it looks like there is going to be a long list of things you're not allowed to say to me under the threat of cutting out your tongue. Or, you know, you can try not to be such a dick."

"Yeah," I agreed, smiling. "But what are the chances of that?"

That did it.

That broke through that hard shell, making her let out a choked laugh, and shoot me a big smile.

"Yeah, I guess that's a pipe dream, huh?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Kind of like hoping you would stop overreacting to shit."

"I think it was a perfectly appropriate amount of reaction, given the circumstances."

"What circumstances were those?" Cary asked, moving up to the bar.

"He called me chickenshit," she said, raising a brow at the prospect. "And then made clucking noises at me."

"And his balls are still attached?" Dezi asked, moving forward too, shaking his head in sympathy.

"Don't give her ideas," I said under my breath. "She's homicidal enough," I added.

"So, Danny, I'm—" Dezi started.

"Dezi," Danny supplied. "And Cary," she said, giving him a small smile. "Prospects. Actually, I think I know everyone here except, ah, those three," she said, pointing to Slash, Crow, and Sway.

"Kind of prospects too," I supplied. We were leaning toward the new chapter, but since it wasn't a done deal yet, it didn't seem worth it to mention.

"What did the boss man tell you about me?" Dezi asked, impatiently tapping his fingertips on the bar top.

"He didn't say much. But, judging by your reputation, you're probably a pain in his ass."

"She's not wrong about that," Brooks said, coming up. "Brooks," he introduced himself, extending his hand.

"Danny," she said, giving him a small smile as she took his hand.

The next couple hours were much the same with various members of the club walking up to say hello. She shared slightly heated conversations with a few of them, but nothing too bad, nothing worse than Hope or one of the other girls would say to any of us.

It wasn't until we were back in the SUV after the bank, on the way to the store with Cary and Seth that we got to have any sort of private conversation.

"What?" she asked, sensing something.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about Brooks," I said, shrugging.

"What about him?"

"He's a stickler for rules," I said, shaking my head. "He doesn't like when anyone gets away with anything. It's why Dezi rubs him the wrong way. Which is why it feels weird that he walked right up to introduce himself."

"That's not weird," Cary said from the front seat. "That's a sign of respect," he added. "The way he sees it, you're the boss. And if Danny is your woman, he has to accept her. That's how the rules go in a club. And if I'm not completely mistaken, you're eyeing him for a position, so he wants to make sure he stays on your good side."

"Makes sense to me," Danny said, shrugging.

"It doesn't bother you that he might just be nice to you because of me?" I asked.

To that, Danny snorted a little. "I get that I am... difficult," she decided. "Not everyone is going to like me right away. Or maybe ever. That's been true my whole life. I don't expect it to change. It's okay if all your men don't like me. I just don't want them to have an issue with you because of me."

"You're not as difficult as you think you are," I told her as Seth pulled into a parking spot at the store.

"I threatened to rip out your tongue a couple hours ago."

"I deserved it."

"Yeah, well, that's true," she agreed, hopping out of the SUV.

From there, we all followed her around the store as she tossed various shampoo, conditioner, razors, creams, and makeup into her cart before making her way back around to the clothing department.

"You're not going to try anything on?" I asked after watching her toss a bunch of tees and long-sleeve tees into the cart, then grab some pants, before finally making her way to the underwear department. "How are you sure this is going to fit?" I asked, fingering a baby blue bra with a set of matching panties.

"I'm usually the same size," she said distractedly as she wrinkled her nose at the selection.

None the wiser to my plan.

Which made it all the better.

"Yeah, but with that fancy lingerie shit," I said, hoping I was making a little bit of sense. Women's fashion was not my strong suit. "This might be different." I was pretty sure that was accurate, that I heard the girls bitching about how their jeans never fit the same across different brands.

"Yeah, you're probably right. And we can't just keep traipsing to the store all the time with your club being on like a partial lockdown."

"Exactly," I agreed.

"Fine," she said with a sigh, grabbing a handful of the bras as well as the jeans, and making her way back toward the fitting room.

Cary was looking around the men's department, gaze moving around every so often as he looked at clothes.

"Seth," I called, making his head snap over.

"Yeah?"

"Fitting attendant. Kind of hot, no?" I asked.

"Christ, don't let Danny hear you say that," he said, giving me wide eyes.

"Not for me, obviously," I said, shaking my head as the woman in question grabbed a handful of discarded clothes, moving from behind her desk to start putting them away.

And Seth, completely clueless, went ahead and followed behind to chat her up.

While I snuck past undetected.

"Hey, someone's in here," Danny said, voice raised, a little panicked after I'd made short work of the lock.

My father was right.

I'd learned a lot from the club, from my sort-of uncles.

Picking locks had always been a very useful little lesson.

"Hey!" Danny said again as I kept pushing the door.

It wasn't until I moved inside and pressed a finger to my lips that she got what was going on.

She stood in front of the oversize mirror, clutching the blue bra to her bare breasts, just barely covering her nipples.

"We can't," she said in a hushed whisper as I moved in behind her, reaching up to pull the bra from her hands.

"We can," I countered, covering her breasts with my hands. "If you're quiet," I added, rolling her nipples into hardened peaks. "And quick," I went on with a smirk as I watched her eyes heat up in her reflection.

One hand slid down into her panties as the other kept teasing her nipple.

But just this once, she wasn't going to let me do all the teasing.

Before I could sink my fingers into her tight pussy, she was whipping around and lowering to her knees in front of me.

She shot a saucy smirk up at me as she worked my button and zipper free, then reached inside to pull my cock out. Her gaze was on me as she slipped me into her waiting mouth, as she started to suck me off, her hands moving up. One stroked the base of my cock, the other massaged my balls as she worked me.

My gaze slipped from looking down to watching in the mirror, then back again as my hand grabbed the back of her neck, holding her still as I took over, starting to fuck her throat until I couldn't take another second of torment and pulled away from her, lowering down to my knees on the carpeted floor, turning her to face the mirrors again as I slid a condom on.

My hand slid up, grabbing a fistful of her hair, arching her up slightly as I slammed my cock inside her pussy.

In the mirror, I watched her bite her lower lip to keep from crying out as I started to fuck her.

"Faster," she whispered, slamming her hips back into me.

On a low groan, I reached down, yanking her up against my chest, watching her tits bounce as I fucked her faster.

My hand slid between her thighs, working her clit, driving her to that edge.

Her pussy tightened around me, making my hand slap across her mouth to silence her moan as she came hard, her walls clenching around me over and over, driving me up and through my orgasm, leaving us both kneeling there for a long moment after, recovering.

"Told you we could," I said as I slid out of her, getting back to my feet, tying off the condom before tossing it in the bin, then tucking myself away as Danny got to her feet, fetching the bra. "How'd it fit?" I asked.

"Like I said it would," she said, shooting our reflections a bemused smile. "I should have known you'd have ulterior motives," she added, shaking her head as she found her old bra, and slipped it back on.

"Babe, when it comes to getting you alone, it is always to fuck you," I said, shooting her a wink before exiting the room before I got seen.

I found Cary not far from where I'd left him, holding up a shirt in the air. "Thinking about trying this on," he said, smirk tugging at his lips. "Think the room I'd happen into might have a woman in it, willing to suck my cock?" he asked, smiling.

"Busted," I said, shrugging.

"Pro tip, if you're going to fuck in public places, do it slowly," he told me, shaking his head as he tucked the shirt back in the rack. "Not keeping much mystery alive when you hear two bodies slapping together in a dressing room."

"Fair enough," I agreed, dropping the smile from my face before Danny saw it and knew we were caught. "Anything else?" I asked after she shoved her bras under the pile of her clothes.

"We need to double back," she said.

"What for?"

"We need more mac & cheese," she informed me, eyes bright, smile soft.

Danny was sexy as fuck when she was hard.

But soft?

Shit, that was a whole different ballgame.

It was maybe even more intriguing because I knew she didn't show that softness to just anyone. In fact, I was probably the only person who got to see it.

A couple minutes later with a cart nearly overflowing with bags, we were making our way out the front doors.

"Hey, you," someone said, pointing toward Seth.

My arm shot out in front of Danny, attempting to tuck her behind me.

Attempting being the operative word.

This was Danny, after all.

She didn't need a man to protect her.

Cary's hand was reaching toward his gun when Seth shook his head a little, moving forward toward the guy.

"Hey, Jake. How you been?"

"Alright," the guy said, shrugging. "Still haven't seen Kev," he said, making Danny and I share a look. He wasn't going to be seeing Kevin. Not until the afterlife anyway. "But I was just thinking."

"Yeah?" Seth asked. "About what?"

"About what you said about Kev being weird before he disappeared. And I remembered something."

"What's that?" Seth asked, more patient than I was, keeping his tone calm and coaxing.

"One time, I was heading home after a party. And I was gonna stop for a Slurpee. And I saw Kev outside the store. Not weird since Kev used to use his five-finger-discount there all the time, if you know what I mean. Anyways, I didn't say hi because he was standing over in the lot, talking to someone."

"Who was it?"

"No one I'd ever seen before," Jake supplied, shaking his head.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"Yeah, only 'cause he was so weird-looking, if you know what I mean."

"I don't," Seth said. "What did he look like?"

"He kind of looked like a red-headed Santa," Jake said.

He might as well have set off a bomb with how hard Danny jerked beside me.

"Even weirder, that big-ass beard? He kind of, you know, braided it a little. Weird, right?" Jake asked.

I didn't hear what Seth responded to that.

Because Danny was taking off across the lot at a dead-run toward the SUV.

And I was running to catch up.

Something Jake set had set her off.

I had to figure out what it was.