Chapter Twenty-Two

Compass

Fallon dialed the number and set the phone on speaker between us. We sat close together on the bed as we waited for the call to connect. It rang five times before a male voice finally answered.

“Hello?” the voice called.

Fallon immediately perked up. “Russ!” she said. She sounded both relieved and excited.

We’d agreed I’d keep quiet unless Fallon needed me. It wasn’t likely anything dangerous could happen over a phone call, but after what had gone down with Clay earlier, I was still on edge. Yarder had taken care of the situation by making sure Don knew Clay was banned from Iron Fiends property for life. Don had tried to argue, but Yarder didn’t back down. Clay’s replacement would arrive in a week, which meant we were free from the ever-present cameras and nosy production crew for now.

“Fallon?” Russ sounded unsure as if the connection was bad. “I can barely hear you.”

“I’m here, Russ. I called right when you told me to.” Fallon leaned in toward the phone, her voice steady despite the faint crackle of static.

“Good, good. I just got the information I was looking for. You need to look out for—”

Gunshots rang out on the other end of the line, sharp and unmistakable.

“Fucking shit!” Russ screamed, followed by more gunfire.

“Russ!” Fallon shouted. Panic seeped into her voice.

I leaned forward and gripped the edge of the bed as muffled noises filled the line—thuds, groans, and what sounded like someone crashing into something heavy.

“Russ!” I barked, no longer caring if he knew I was here.

“O’Hara!” Russ screamed, his voice strained and desperate. “Look out for O’Hara!”

The line went dead.

And maybe Russ had, too.

Fallon’s face was pale as she stared at the phone. Her chest rose and fell with panicked breaths. Her wide, terrified eyes met mine. “We have to tell Yarder.”