Chapter Twelve

Fallon

My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest. Why hadn’t I thought to check my old room earlier? Jesus .

The day had already started off weird by waking up next to Compass. He’d been warm, solid, and so cozy to sleep next to. Now, it felt like my entire world was about to implode.

I spent the morning trying to avoid everyone and hung out in my room to steer clear of the camera crew. Compass had disappeared to do whatever he did and left me with too much time to think. That’s when it hit me: I hadn’t taken Russ’s number out of my pocket.

Panic had taken over as soon as I realized the pants were missing. I’d torn apart our room looking for them. When that failed, I had no choice but to venture out and ask Compass if he’d seen them.

Now, here we were. Compass had shut the door to my old room behind him and folded his arms over his chest. The slip of paper was still in his hand, and his dark eyes pinned me to the spot.

“Spit it out, Fallon,” he said. His voice was low and deadly.

I stood slowly and dropped the pants onto the bed. My mind raced to try to find a way out of this.

If only I’d been smart enough to pick up my pants that day instead of kicking them under the bed like a lazy idiot.

Maybe I could lie? Think of something— anything.

“Uh, well,” I started and licked my lips as I tried to stall. A guy hit on me and gave me his number? No, that wouldn’t work. Compass had been glued to my side the entire time we were out—except for the fitting room. Damn it, that was why he was staring at me like I’d committed a felony. “I don’t know whose phone number that is,” I said finally, and my voice almost shook. At least it wasn’t a total lie. Russ hadn’t told me who I’d be calling.

“Try again,” Compass growled.

“I’m not lying,” I said quickly. My voice rose slightly in defense. “I have no idea who’s going to pick up when I call that number.” See? Still technically not a lie.

“Then where did you get the number?”

Here came the gray area. “Uh, well… I got it in the dressing room at Walmart.” Ha! No lie again. I was getting good at this.

Compass raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You found a random phone number written on a piece of paper in the fitting room at Walmart and freaked out when you couldn’t find it?”

“Um… yes.” This story might not be going well.

His lips twitched like he was holding back laughter or frustration. “If you don’t know who the number belongs to, why were you freaking out about losing it? For all you know, some kids scribbled the number to a sex hotline, and you’re the one who found it.”

“It’s not,” I said before I could stop myself.

His eyebrow shot up.

“I mean, I doubt it’s that. Kids wouldn’t put that much effort into a prank,” I said quickly and tried to cover my tracks.

“Okay, fine,” Compass sighed. “Then why do you want a phone number to someone you don’t know?”

I bit down on my bottom lip. I was unsure how much I could say anything more without digging myself into an even deeper hole.

“Fallon,” he growled. His patience was clearly wearing thin.

“I don’t know who I’m going to talk to when I call the number,” I blurted out with the truth slipping through in bits and pieces. I figured it would be Russ, but honestly, I didn’t know . He’d been vague on purpose: Call this number. Don’t tell the Iron Fiends .

“Then why are you going to call the number?”

I was running out of half-truths to hide behind, and Compass wasn’t about to let this go.

“Fallon!” His voice boomed in the small space and made me jump.

“Fine!” I screamed back and threw my hands up. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out and run to Yarder!”

Compass folded his arms tighter, and his jaw flexed.

“Promise me,” I said again, my voice firmer. I wasn’t going to spill a word until he swore he wouldn’t go to Yarder—not until we both agreed to, at least.

“I promise I won’t tell Yarder as long as this has nothing to do with Boone and Gibbs,” he said.

I wrinkled my nose. Why did he have to throw in a condition? “If you don’t run to Yarder, I promise you can have…” My mind scrambled to think of something Compass would want. Finally, it hit me. “…me.”

That got his attention.

His eyes flared and narrowed as he stared at me like he was trying to figure out if he’d heard me correctly.

“Don’t tell Yarder who that phone number belongs to, and then you can have me,” I repeated. My voice shook slightly, but I was still firm.

He stared at me. His expression was impossible to read, which only made my stomach twist harder.

What if he wasn’t interested?

What if the kisses we’d shared had all been some kind of act? I mean, they were supposed to be an act, but I had felt something more.

I’d thought they meant something. But maybe to Compass, they hadn’t.

“This number means so much to you that you’re willing to give yourself to me?” he asked. His voice was low and deliberate.

I licked my lips and hesitated before nodding. “Yes, but… because I don’t think I can deal with this on my own. I don’t want to tell the whole club—I just want to tell you.” I met his eyes and hoped to will him to understand. “I think you can help me figure it out.”

He tilted his head slightly, and his gaze was sharp and calculating. “In exchange for giving yourself to me,” he clarified.

I nodded again and felt my chest tighten. “Yes.”

If I was honest with myself, I wanted Compass. These past few days, he’d gotten under my skin in ways I hadn’t expected. I wanted more of his kisses. I wanted to wake up next to him. I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him.

“Fine,” he growled after a long pause. “But on one condition.”

Oh boy. My stomach twisted again. If that condition had anything to do with telling the club, I wasn’t going to tell him anything.

“The only way I make you mine is if you show me you want it.”

“Uh… what?” I whispered, my heart pounding.

“If you think I’m some asshole who’s going to take what you’re offering when you don’t even want it yourself, then you’re wrong,” he said with a harsh but firm tone. “You show me you want me, and then we have a deal.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “What happens if… if that doesn’t happen?” I asked.

“Then I guess we don’t have a deal,” he said and crossed his arms over his chest.

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

“Do you want me, Fallon?” he asked, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Do you like it when I kiss you?”

I couldn’t lie. “Yes,” I whispered.

He nodded once, and his expression was unreadable. “Fine. Then we have a deal.” He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket and held it up between us. “Now tell me who the hell this number calls.”

“And you’re not going to tell Yarder? At least not until we both decide to tell him,” I said, needing his reassurance one more time.

He nodded. “I won’t tell Yarder.”

I took a deep breath and steeled myself for what came next.

“Who does the number belong to, Fallon?” Compass asked for what felt like the tenth time. His patience was clearly wearing thin.

I closed my eyes and let the words tumble out. “Russ gave it to me.”

“When?”

“In the fitting room,” I said and opened my eyes to meet his.

Compass’s jaw clenched, and his expression darkened in a way that made my pulse race.

“How the fuck did you get this in the dressing room?” he demanded. “Was he in the damn stall with you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No! I was just trying on clothes when suddenly I heard him call my name. He was in the stall next to me. He slipped me the number through a crack.”

Compass’s face turned stormy, and his fists clenched at his sides.

“He told me to call it in seven days at seven-twenty at night,” I continued in a rush. “He said I couldn’t tell any of you guys because he didn’t want you involved yet. He said… he said you’d mess up his plan.”

“His plan?” Compass spat. His voice dripped with venom. “His fucking plan is what got us into this mess in the first place!”

He ran a hand through his hair and paced back and forth in front of the door like a caged animal.

“When you went into that stall to grab the hanger, you got the phone number instead?” he asked, his voice tight.

I shook my head. “No. He slipped it through the crack while I was in there. I tried to ask him what was going on after he passed it, but when I looked, he was gone. I don’t know where he went. I just pretended to grab the hanger when I tried to find him in the stall next to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Compass muttered under his breath. He stopped pacing long enough to glare at me. “Have you called this number?”

I shook my head again. “No. Pretty sure you guys burned my phone, remember?”

“Then how the hell were you planning to call this number? And why the hell didn’t you tell me the second this happened?”

“Because Russ said not to,” I said, my voice rising. “And because I feel really guilty about being the person who dragged you guys into this in the first place!”

Compass froze, his expression softening just slightly. “Then what the hell were you going to do, Fallon? How the hell were you planning to call him in seven days?”

“Five days now,” I muttered. “And I don’t know what I was going to do. It’s probably for the best I lost the number, and you found out.”

Compass sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Jesus, Fallon.”

I looked down at my hands and felt small under the weight of his scrutiny. “I didn’t want to screw everything up even more,” I said quietly. I sat down on the edge of the bed and put my head in my hands.

Compass crouched in front of me and rested his hand on my knees. “Look at me, Fallon,” he said softly.

I tipped my head back and looked him in the eye. “I wasn’t trying to mess things up, Compass. I just… I just didn’t know what to do.”

“You’re not screwing things up,” he said firmly. “But keeping this a secret? That’s what could’ve made everything worse.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said. His tone left no room for argument. “But you’ve got to trust me. No more secrets, Fallon. No more going off on your own and hoping for the best. You and I are going to call this number together. And if Russ contacts you again, you are going to tell me right away. Got it?”

“Got it,” I whispered.

He stood and offered me a hand. He pulled me to my feet and rested his hand on my waist.

“What are we going to do now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Compass leaned back and looked down at me. “We’re waiting five days and calling that number. Then we’ll decide what happens next.”

I nodded, and relief washed over me. That had been my plan, but knowing Compass would be with me made all the difference. It felt better—safer—not having to navigate this alone. Plus, it meant I wouldn’t have to do something stupid, like steal someone’s phone just to make the call.

“Okay,” I said and paused before adding, “And we’re not telling Yarder, right?”

Compass’s eyes softened slightly. He reached up, and his warm hand cupped my cheek. The roughness of his calloused palm contrasted with the gentleness of his touch.

“Remember what we agreed on?” he asked.

I swallowed hard, and my heart skipped as I nodded. I knew what he wanted. I knew what I’d promised.

I summoned a courage I wasn’t sure I had and stepped closer. I tilted my head up to meet his gaze. Then, slowly, I rose onto my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his.

The kiss was soft and unhurried—a brush of lips that sent warmth spiraling through me. His hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, and his fingers threaded gently into my hair as he leaned into me. The kiss deepened just enough to make my knees go weak.

The rest of the world fell away. There was no secret phone number, no impending destruction with the club, no tension or fear. Just Compass and me.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against mine, and I could feel his breath warm against my skin.

“You’re mine now,” he growled.

I nodded again, unable to speak through the lump in my throat.

I didn’t know if I had just made a deal I would regret, but it sure felt right.