Chapter Four

Fallon

“I need to go somewhere.”

Compass looked up at me over the brim of his coffee cup, his eyes half-lidded with sleep. He didn’t look amused. “It’s too early, Fallon. You need to wait until I’ve had at least two cups of coffee and a cigarette.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, toss your coffee in a travel cup, and you can smoke on the way to the store.”

He shook his head and took another slow sip. “You wake up thinking you call the shots?”

No, I’d woken up and decided to fully embrace this hairbrained idea with reckless optimism. Adalee was right—at least The Cakery was going to happen. The Cakery was my ticket to a fresh start, my next chapter. I just needed to get through the tangled mess of Boone, Gibbs, and everything else standing in my way.

“I woke up knowing we need a plan before Clay walks back in here in a couple of days,” I said and folded my arms across my chest.

“And that plan involves going to the store?” he drawled, his tone dripping with skepticism.

I pulled out a chair and sat down across from him and tried to channel some calm. “Yes. I can’t have my computer or anything electronic since Dice burned them, so I need pen and paper. Other supplies.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. “What are these ‘other supplies’?”

“Whatever the store tells me I should buy,” I said with a shrug as if that explained everything.

“You got money?”

I nodded. I still had some cash from when I’d cleaned out part of my savings before coming here. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was enough for what I needed. “I’ve got enough for paper and pens.”

Compass leaned back in his chair and smirked. “I’m sure I could find you some paper and a pen lying around here.”

I pursed my lips and leaned forward. “Can I be honest?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “Shoot.”

“I need the hell out of here, Compass. And as much as I want to walk out that door and never look back, I know I can’t. So, I’m trying to accept my fate and deal with what’s in front of me. That starts with getting some paper and pens. And maybe a pretty new sweater, too.”

His lips twitched, and a smile broke through his stony expression. “The store gonna tell you to buy the pretty new sweater?” he chuckled.

I shrugged and leaned back in my chair. “God only knows, Compass. I’m just trying not to be stupid and sneak out of here. I even tried asking Adalee and Fade, but neither of them answered this morning when I knocked on their door.”

“So I’m your last choice before you do something stupid.”

“Pretty much,” I said with a shrug.

His smile widened with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Yeah, you are being honest.” He pushed his chair back, stood, and stretched his arms over his head. “Give me ten minutes.”

A grin spread across my face. “Really?”

He reached for his coffee and nodded before taking another sip.

“Sweet! I’ll meet you by the front door!” I sprang up from the table and headed down the hallway, practically skipping.

That was a hell of a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I guess asking nicely was better than storming off on my own. Who would’ve thought?

Compass

“Waiting for a bus?” Yarder strolled into the common room and headed straight for the coffee maker.

“Fallon,” I grunted.

Yarder filled his cup and turned to face me, eyebrows raised. “Why?”

I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms. “Because she asked to go to the store instead of sneaking out. Figured since I didn’t have anything else going on, I could take her.”

“What store?” He took a long drink of his coffee.

I shrugged. “Not fucking sure.” That was a detail I figured I would find out soon enough.

Yarder grabbed the coffee pot again, refilled his coffee to the top, then walked to the fridge. He plucked a piece of paper off the door and held it up. “While you’re out, pick up some groceries and shit.” He flipped the paper around, showing off a list that looked like it had been written by five different people. “The girls have been adding to it all week. It’s both sides.”

I groaned, already regretting my decision. “Have one of the other guys grab that shit.”

Yarder shook his head, strode toward me, and shoved the list into my hand. “I’m not thrilled about you heading off with Fallon as it is. So you can pick this up while you’re out, and no one else has to leave.”

I crumpled the list into my pocket and glared at him. “Great. First, you shove Fallon on me, and now I’m the goddamn maid running errands. You ever think Pirate or Smoke could handle this crap? I should be helping to find Russ.”

“Dove’s on that,” Yarder replied and set his coffee down on the pool table. “She mentioned a few spots her dad used to go. He’s smart, but he’s never had to run for his life before. He’s bound to slip up somewhere. We’ll find him before Boone and Gibbs do.”

I frowned. “Dove hasn’t really talked to her dad in years. Don’t you think Fallon has a better shot at figuring out where Russ is hiding?”

Yarder gave a slow nod. “We’ll use her when the time comes. But right now, you can get groceries and whatever other crap she’s got planned for this little trip.”

“I’m ready!” Fallon’s voice echoed down the hall before she came sprinting into the room. Her boots skidded to a halt as soon as she spotted Yarder. She looked between us, wide-eyed. “Please don’t tell me you’re canceling the trip to the store. I need the store to tell me what to buy!”

Yarder tilted his head like he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. Hell, I wasn’t sure either.

“Just get the shit on the list,” he said gruffly, clearly deciding not to ask. “And try not to get shot at or killed while you’re out.” He slapped my shoulder a little too hard to be friendly. “Call me if you run into trouble.”

I chuckled as Yarder walked off and left Fallon and me standing in the common room.

“What’s on the list?” Fallon asked, bouncing on her toes like this was some kind of field trip. “Biker stuff?”

I pulled the crumpled paper out of my pocket and handed it over.

“Milk, butter, chocolate chips, orange juice,” she read aloud. Her nose wrinkled in confusion as she looked up at me. “He wants us to go grocery shopping?”

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘p’ as I reached for the list and shoved it back in my pocket. “Looks like we’re not taking the bike.”

Her face fell. “Well, that sucks. I was looking forward to riding on a motorcycle. I’ve never done that before.”

“Maybe another time,” I said and headed toward the door. As much as I preferred taking the bike, there was no way we were fitting everything on that list in my saddlebags.

Fallon followed close behind. “They’re not working on the garage today?” she asked and nodded toward the half-built structure outside.

“It’s Sunday, babe. Plus, it’s fucking early.”

“It’s eight, Compass. Most people are awake by now.”

“They may be awake,” I muttered, “but they sure as shit aren’t running to the damn store.”

Her eyes widened when we rounded the clubhouse, and her gaze landed on the truck parked near the garage. “We’re taking that?”

I smirked and nodded toward the dark blue ‘81 Chevy pickup. “Yup. That’s the garage truck.”

“It’s... old.”

I laughed, headed to the passenger side, and opened the door for her. “I think you mean classic , babe. And we can fit a hell of a lot more groceries in the bed than we can on the back of my bike.”

She climbed in and ran her fingers over the interior. “It is nice.” She smiled, but there was a hint of timidity in it.

“Classic,” I corrected her again as I walked around to the driver’s side. “She’s a classic.”

“You sound like you’re pretty fond of it,” she teased.

I slid on my sunglasses and gave her a quick grin. “That’s because I built it. You ready to go?”

“You built this?” Fallon asked, her voice full of amazement as she ran her hand along the dashboard.

I shut her door and rounded the front of the truck. “This,” I said as I slid into the driver’s seat, “and a whole lot of other cars.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “I’m impressed, Compass.”

I smirked, turned the key, and listened to the rumble of the engine. “What did you think we did around here, Fallon?”

She shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “Biker things.”

I groaned and shook my head. “Jesus. You and the ol’ ladies. You all think we just sit around playing with our bikes all day.”

“Fiddling with your dipsticks and…” She paused and scrunched her nose as if trying to think of something clever. “I can’t come up with another mechanical thing that sounds dirty.”

I barked a laugh and shifted into gear.

She leaned toward the window, and a grin tugged at her lips. “I mean, dipsticks are pretty good, though, right? You get the joke?”

“I got it, babe. You’re a damn comedian.”

“Maybe I could be a comedian if The Cakery doesn’t take off.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “Babe, you better be praying The Cakery does well, or you’re going to starve if you gotta tell jokes.”

She rolled her eyes at me, but she was still laughing.

This was going to be an interesting trip.