Fallon (Henchmen MC Next Generation 3)

"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.