by J. C. Allen
“Well, if he comes around, ask him for his phone number so I can call him,” I said, knowing full well that would put a stop to the stupid elementary school games this guy was pulling. “I’d love to know who this Matty character is.”
“Understood, Derek,” Clarence said, not knowing that Matty and Roost—who used to come by once in a blue moon—were the same person.
There was one element of concern as I headed to the bike, though. If some Black Falcon had left a note for me, then they were cohesive enough now to begin picking at us once more. A note meant nothing in itself, but it could foreshadow something much worse to come.
I crumpled up the note and stuffed it in my pocket, intending to show Roost but not Eve. As far as I was concerned, I knew the whole truth about Eve and nothing but the truth. Until someone gave me serious reason to believe otherwise, I wasn’t going to see her as anything other than my committed, honest girlfriend.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Roost as I straddled my bike, returning to the familiar position if nothing else.
“Yer awake,” he said.
“You sound surprised, as if I’d wake up from my coma and then decide, ‘nah, I’d rather be dead.’”
“Oh, right, I forget yer sorry ass ain’t wakin’ up before noon,” Roost said.
He doesn’t sound totally himself, though. Like he’s… tired? Or worried? Or both?
“You sound the same, you know,” I said. “You sound like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Well, I could tell ya it’s cuz of all these girlies at my place,” he said, but then a long pause came. “Derek, is Eve with ya?”
“Umm, no…”
What if that note was real? What if Roost had done that so as not to… I don’t know, there’s no reason to avoid suspicion, but what… what the fuck?
“Come to the shop soon as ya can,” he said. “This is serious.”
Fuck me.
“Is it—”
“Derek Knight.”
He didn’t need to say anything more.
“On my way.”
I hung up without another word, but that was just because the words crowding in my head were endless, ruthless savages that wanted to tell me everything I believed was a lie.
He’s going to tell you she took up hooking all over again in Samsville. She wants some extra cash. Is it any wonder she asked all these questions about being a high-class hooker? She may have left the Falcons, but she’s never left the lifestyle.
Face it, Derek, you may think that you’re able to let her go back to that lifestyle, but you’re not. You’re just a jealous boy like the rest of ‘em.
I mean, if she lied to me…
Why else would Roost want me there? He precipitated the question by asking if Eve wasn’t there. That question only gets asked when he’s going to probe into my relationship with Eve in such a way that she would oppose.
Oh God… damnit. I knew this was too good to be true.
By the time I’d gotten to the shop, the ride over had felt like an emotional hurricane, a storm far, far worse than the one that had knocked me out for a couple of days. I almost began to regret waking up, thinking that if Eve was going to lie to my face and whore herself out behind my back, I should just retreat back to the coma and have visions of Maggie. Maybe with this new information, Maggie would tell me to stay the hell away.
I parked the bike at the back, paused, and wanted a vision of her. I wanted to see her, to get my mind off the present.
But, of course, when I most wanted it, I didn’t get it. That figured. I had spent so much of my adult life trying to get rid of those images to move on from Maggie, or at least move on from the pain.
And now when I needed her for comfort, when I needed her to get away from a potentially worse pain, she was gone, nowhere to be seen.
Maybe if you stopped running away from things and toward something, you’d get what you want. Did you ever think of that?
The thought made me pause, but only temporarily as I saw Roost in the office, the door ajar enough for me to enter. I saw a few of our men looking at me in awe, as if I’d risen from the dead, but I didn’t have the energy right now to do anything more than nod in their general vicinity. I supposed I could always just pass it off as saving my words for a grand speech later.
I went into the office and shut the door behind me, not even saying anything to Roost.
“Good to see ya alive too, ya fool,” he said, rising with a big grin.
I returned the grin as well, realizing this was actually the first time I was seeing him alive since I had awoken. Not that it quelled the bad feeling in my gut, but it at least allowed my mind to get off-topic for just a few minutes.
“Sorry,” I said. “You just had me worried when you called. I thought that Eve—”
“Eve?” Derek said. “I wish this was ‘bout Eve.”
Oh.
I felt an enormous amount of relief wash over me. I now suddenly found that I couldn’t stop smiling. No, his phone call wasn’t to tell me that Eve was whoring herself out again. It wasn’t to tell me she was lying behind my back.
Although I was a little fearful of what the alternative was if Roost had wished for the topic to be Eve instead, it was hard to imagine it truly being worse.
“You had me scared a bit when you asked if she was around.”
“Why?”
I grimaced, realizing I had to confess the truth.
“When I walked down the elevator, there was a note there from the security guard from ‘you’ asking if I knew what was going on with Eve. It seemed so obviously faked and so obviously a ploy of the Black Falcons that I ignored it and thought nothing of it. But when I got the call from you and you asked if Eve was with me, I began to fear that I had not thought things through well enough. That—”
“Bah!” Roost said loudly, interrupting me. “Ya got yerself the nicest gal in the whole damn city, and ya think I’d write ya a damn note? Boy, that coma knock the goddamn sense outta ya?”
“Probably,” I confessed. “She was also a little weird yesterday when we got out. Kept asking me about being a high-class escort.”
“Was she serious?”
“Well… no, but—”
“But nuttin,” Roost said, placing his paws on my shoulder. “I took care of ya girl while you was out cold. She sweeter than the cotton candy she bought me.”
“She bought you cotton candy?”
I spoke more with awe that she did such a thing than jealousy.
“For pickin’ her up from Samsville,” he said. “Yer one lucky prick, ya know. Not everyone in this club would be gettin’ a personal pickup.”
“I’m aware, and I appreciate it,” I said. “How can I return the favor?”
“Oh, heavens, lemme tell ya,” Roost said, as if begging for such a question. “My entire house is full o’ whores! Everywhere!”
I cocked an eyebrow. Roost was gay and I was pretty sure he wasn’t bisexual, and even as some distant memory of Eve saying something about Tara rescuing other girls came to mind, I still couldn’t piece it together.
“Tara took my house and made it a home for hos,” he said, sighing. “It’s a goddamn animal house. I ain’t slept in days there!”
“Sounds like it’s a you problem,” I said cockily, drawing a heavy eye roll from Roost. “But no worries. We’ll get something set up. Pops had once worked with prostitutes before.”
“Ya old man woulda made sure them gals were all set. Treat ‘em right.”
“So long as Eve isn’t one of them, I will.”
Which isn’t up to me, of course.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care a little bit about it. Especially after her comments the other day.
“Anyways, I assume you didn’t call me here to tell me about your horrible life as a pimp.”
“Once again, shit, I wish I could tell ya that. But no.”
His facial expression went darkly serious. There was no humor left in Roost’s eyes
—it was as if all of the humor that had filled his eyes and his voice just moments before had had a bullet put through its skull. Even with Rock, I had never seen him so damn set on being so seirous.
“Does the name ‘The Falcon’ ring a bell for ya?”
It did.
I suddenly echoed to a conversation that my father and brother had had in the basement of our house just minutes before I’d proposed to Maggie. In the exact moment I’d eavesdropped on their conversation, it had terrified me, but the joy that came from my proposal literally less than ten minutes later meant that I had forgotten all about it.
Until now. And while I didn’t know anything about “The Falcon” beyond a cursory conversation and maybe seeing his name on some files when I took over the club, I knew Roost likely had an extensive knowledge of him just by being a veteran in the Savage Saviors. And Roost didn’t fear anyone—not even Rock.
But he sure sounded just a little scared here.
“A tad,” I said. “What’s going on?”
Then Roost did something that really left me on edge.
He gulped.
“Rock was always the face of the Falcons, a real eas’ prick to spot,” he said. “But he ain’t the leader. At least, he ain’t the brains behind their operation. Nah, that’s The Falcon. There’s a reason his code name is the club, and it ain’t cuz he looks like a bird.”
Roost sat on the edge of his desk, letting out a long sigh.
“He a tricky one, that fucker. He ain’t gonna take to the streets, although he would if he wanted to. He ain’t gonna fight ya face to face. He ain’t gonna lose his temper. No, he’s so cold, so cunnin’, so smart, that you ain’t gonna lay eyes on him.”
“We said that about Rock,” I said, although I knew Roost meant his words—and judging by the hurried headshake that followed, that was apparent too.
“Rock was a goddamn Pacific Ocean in the desert compared to Falcon,” Roost warned. “And as a result, he gonna be much worse for us. See, Rock was an evil prick, but an emotional one. If you’da ever gotten yer shit together, we’d’ve launched an attack on him much sooner.”
I chose to let that go. This wasn’t the place to argue—especially when I knew deep down that Roost was right.
“But ya ain’t gon’ manipulate Falcon. He’s too smart. He’s evil, but he’s evil smart. Ya know? He’ll make yer life hell. But he won’t do it through torture, at least not by breakin’ yer fingers or legs. He’ll hurt those around ya.”
“Rock said he’d kill all of Eve’s friends.”
“Bluffin’,” Roost retorted immediately. “He coulda, eventually, but most of his words were bluffs. Falcon don’t bluff. Falcon takes his words seriously.”
He sighed.
“I gotsa notice the other day sayin’ he was back around. He knows about yer little escapade with Eve and Tara, and suffice to say, a deprived Falcon ain’t a happy one. He gonna be startin’ a war, but don’t think it’s gonna happen with blood, at least not at first. He’ll pick at ya on the sides. He’ll tear your world apart. And then, once he thinks ya suffered enough, he’ll kill ya.”
I folded my arms and snorted. OK, Roost is clearly not bullshitting here. I have to take this Falcon guy seriously. He’s going to be a knot in our side for some time, far worse than Rock.
So what matters? What do we need to focus on the most?
Eve.
“We need to be on high alert, goes without saying,” I said. “And we have to protect everyone we know. In my case, that’s Eve.”
Roost nodded. The fact that he didn’t give me a “ya think?” comment told me everything.
“That note ya got? Ya know me better. I ain’t write for dick. So clearly, that was a very small step to see if ya’d get provoked by it. Obviously, it ain’t work.”
“Obviously,” I scoffed, even though it actually had… although I tried to rationalize that away by saying I did so only in conjunction with Roost’s phone call.
“But if ya think he’s gonna stop there, ya be foolin’ yerself. Stay on high alert, Derek. Believe in yer woman. And keep yer wits about ya—cuz Falcon is gonna do everythin’ he can to take ‘em.”
“Understood,” I said.
Well, this was just what we needed. Another war. Another rival of far greater danger than Rock. Another series of dangerous episodes that could wind up with me or my loved ones killed.
But it’s what I had signed up for. And by now, with the Savage Saviors as big as they were and with us in a position of flying high, I couldn’t abandon them, not until I felt sure they had a true leader lined up. In time, I’d find someone, but that was going to take some… well, time to make happen.
No Italy for now. No Europe for now. No joining the Italian mafia for now.
Just Eve, myself, and the Savage Saviors.
“What are ya gonna do, Derek?” Roost said, interrupting my thoughts.
I shrugged.
“Well, tonight we’re gonna go out.”
“What do you have in mind?”
I smirked.
“I haven’t got the foggiest idea, honestly,” I said. “I thought I’d just do what I’ve always done. Wing it like hell, hope it works out, and then flatter Eve if all else fails.”
Then Roost did something that seemed so very out of character for the gravity of our conversation just a few lines before.
He smirked.
“What?” I said, suspicions raised.
He batted his eyebrows.
“You’re weirding me out, man,” I said. “You better not be giving Eve any ideas while I was knocked out. I’m your boss, but I’m not—”
“Hah!” Roost shouted. “Yer a good man and a good boss, but ya too young for my britches, so don’t even think that. No, I can do one better.”
He reached into his pocket, smiling, and showed me two tickets. I looked at them, eyes wide, and stared at Roost.
“Thank me when ya have the best sex of yer life,” he said with a wink.
22
Eve
“So, where are we going tonight?” I called over the roar of the engine as we sailed down the interstate on his motorcycle.
I hadn’t even known that Derek had gotten his motorcycle back until about ten minutes before, when he’d grabbed me and said that it was time to head out for the night again. I didn’t expect to be taken to Fiddler on the Roof and a five-star dinner once again, but I still got a nice chill out of the unexpected second date in as many nights.
That, and finally having a bike I could ride on, even if I never rode one myself, was pretty damn special and awesome.
“You’ll see,” he said, moving his free hand to my two hands, which were wrapped around either side of him and clasped below his chest, and squeezing them gently before returning it to the handlebars.
Earlier in our relationship, such a move might have scared the shit out of me—I mean, he was dropping a hand off the only thing controlling a vehicle going over 60 miles per hour, if not even more!
But there was no one I felt safer with. I could probably say I felt safer with Derek here than I would have with some of Rock’s men in contained vehicles.
There was also the secret benefit—one which Tara had hinted at in previous conversations—that riding on the back of a warm, vibrating vehicle with my legs spread provided. I toyed with the idea of confessing that I was drawing dangerously close to having a “moment” but decided it was the sort of erotic distraction that might lead to an accident. There was a time and place for warfare—speeding down the highway wasn’t really it.
I’ll tell him later, I promised myself, letting myself get lost in the feel of the engine as Derek continued to weave through the streets.
After all, he needed this ride as much as I wanted it, especially if he’d only gotten his bike back this morning.
I had, admittedly, been a bit reluctant about going out on his bike after he’d suggested it. Part of it was not wanting to be his first ride after such a wreck, part of it wa
s the fear that he wouldn’t be as coordinated or in-practice, and part of it was just a healthy fear of riding a bike. Also, his chopper still had scratches and aesthetic damage that needed fixing.
But, per usual, Derek didn’t give me the chance to let me argue.
“If I’m fine enough to make love to you,” he had said with a grin, nodding towards my barely clothed body that evening. “Riding my bike will be no issue at all.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” I had tried to argue, though if my resolve had sounded as weak as it had felt I couldn’t be surprised that I’d lost the fight as easily as I had.
“That’s just because you don’t ride,” he replied. “Don’t worry, though. I plan to fix that, too.”
“Oh?” I’d said, quirking a brow at him. Not riding a bike. Sorry, bud, but—
“Mmhm. You’ll see.”
OK… if you teach me and we’re on a closed course… maybe…
No, Eve! What the hell, girl?
I could only laugh at that moment, partially because it happened right as Derek revved the engine, as if also revving my interest in the idea to life.
Coming back from a beautiful oblivion, I looked up as he turned off the next exit and I looked around, recognizing the area as the art district. We were beginning to slow—and unless Derek was really trying to trick me, he wasn’t going to suddenly speed off in a different direction.
“You gonna tell me where we’re going now?” I said.
I couldn’t lie—I was slightly disappointed that the ride was almost over for the time being… but was also glad that I didn’t have to scream over the engine any longer. Can’t have my cake and eat it too. Darn. What a shame!
“Nope,” he replied.
“You’re a bastard.”
“A lovable one at that!”
I didn’t have any room to argue and just sighed, but it was a sigh derived from serious enjoyment.
Deciding to let him surprise me, I let my cheek linger a moment longer against his back, enjoying the feel and smell of his leather jacket. Along with the natural smell, the familiar scent of sandalwood and pine—Derek’s smell—had interlaced itself into the jacket. The combination was intoxicating, and I found myself missing it as soon as it was no longer in front of me.