"What the fuck, Fallon?" I grumbled when I stepped outside and came face-to-face with my father.
"Hey, your wrath might leave me with bruises," Fallon said. "Your father's, though, would have me in a grave," he told me, giving me a smirk as he walked past to jog down the steps toward his bike.
"Pops," I said, taking a deep breath when he just stood there wordlessly. It wasn't strange for my old man. He wasn't known for speaking much. You were lucky if you got a full sentence out of him most of the time.
"Got reasons?"
"Yes."
"About a woman?" he asked, brow quirking up.
"Yeah," I agreed, even if she wasn't mine.
"Alright," he agreed, shrugging.
"You don't want more than that?" I asked. To that, he held out a hand in a gesture I'd come to understand as 'if you want to tell me.' "There's a waitress at the diner I go to when the girls are at karaoke," I told him. "She was beaten really badly a few nights ago."
"Saw the news," he agreed, nodding.
"I was the one to find her," I told him.
"Starting to get it," he said.
"I gave her my number in case she thought anyone was being suspicious. She called just after church."
"Was it the guy?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "Could have been. He was a creep. Taking pictures of her for weeks without her knowing. Lost it when I saw that."
"Been there," my father agreed, making me flashback to the stories I'd heard about when he was just starting out with my mom. It was a story that led to a man with his heart ripped out of his ribcage. So, yeah, he'd been there. "It happens," he added, giving me a smirk.
"I guess so," I agreed, shaking my head.
"See you back at the club," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze before turning to walk away.
"Am I walking?" I asked, watching his retreating frame, but only until a truck rolled up to the curb.
Not just any truck.
My fucking truck.
With goddamn Dezi behind the wheel.
"Need a lift?" he called after rolling down the passenger side window.
"That's my truck," I said, moving to stand next to it.
"That explains why it took so long to get it to a normal, non-giant position before I could drive it."
"Did you hot-wire my truck?" I asked, opening the door.
"Nah, man. It's much more sophisticated than that. I went into your room to steal your keys," he said, smiling. "After I had Zaddy drive me back to the diner to get your bike before someone called on it."
"Zaddy?" I asked, brow raising.
"Cary. You know that's what all the chicks are going to call him. I'm just cutting to the chase," he said, shrugging. "What'd you get? Misdemeanor, right?"
"Don't see how," I admitted, getting into the passenger side. I was too tired to argue about wanting to drive my own car, or the fact that he'd gone into my room without permission. "I started it. I did the most damage."
"Well, see, they must not have had any proof of who started it."
"There were people around," I insisted.
"Mmhmm, they were taking videos and everything," Dezi said, making my stomach drop. "Funny. Something made them delete those videos," he said, pursing his lips in a faux innocent expression.
"Or someone?" I asked, watching his profile as he pulled up to a stop sign.
"Sounds like a pretty badass dude, huh?" he asked, shooting me a smile before looking out the dashboard again.
"What about the cook? And Holly?"
"Cook flat-out lied," Dezi said, shaking his head. "Said he didn't see shit even though he saw it all. Think the Henchmen name holds weight even outside of Navesink Bank," he told me.
"And Holly?"
"Seemed a little bit in shock about it all. She was roughed up, huh? Was that her man?"
"No."
"Are you her man?" he asked.
"No."
"Alright," he said, shrugging as he turned down the main street of Navesink Bank.
"Everyone is still here?" I asked as we pulled into the lot, finding Niro walking the grounds with Finn.
"There was a lot of drinking going on when I picked up your truck," he said, parking. Taking up room for two trucks, mind you.
It seemed like giving a fuck was not a trait Dezi possessed.
Moving off ahead of me, he disappeared inside the clubhouse as I made much slower progress, rolling my neck, realizing I was going to have to have a sit-down with Reign about the arrest, about the charges.
I wouldn't be the first of his men to get hauled in. Hell, Niro's father, Pagan, had been locked up a ton of times over the years, but always managed to skirt any serious charges.
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the door, moving inside.
To a chorus of cheers from the entire fucking club.
Arms holding bottles and glasses of liquor raised, saluting me.
"Didn't think you had it in you, you crazy fucker," Pagan greeted me, pouring his drink over the broken-open knuckles of my right hand.