Chapter Ten

Adalee

I was on a Zoom call at the table in my tiny house, Don's face glaring at me from the screen.

"It's happening today," I said, trying to sound confident.

"I've heard that from you before, Adalee," Don growled. "If I don't have something on my desk by the end of the day, you can kiss your job goodbye." His angry face disappeared without so much as a goodbye.

"Goodbye to you, too, Don," I muttered, closing my laptop. That went about as well as I thought it would.

Don had no reason to believe me when I told him I was interviewing Fade today. I had been telling him that for two weeks. But today was going to be the day. I had managed to get a few hours of good sleep, and I was ready for whatever today had to throw at me.

I was on my third cup of coffee, adequately dressed, and ready to head over to the clubhouse. I was a little anxious about seeing Fade, though. After yesterday, I was seeing him differently. I also had about twenty questions I needed answered.

I gathered my things, grabbed an energy drink from the fridge, and then headed out the door. I stopped suddenly, remembering my beloved Beetle had been a part of the drive-by shooting at the donut shop. All of the windows had been shattered, and one of the tires was flat.

"Need a lift?" Mark called from his porch.

I sighed and made the short walk over to his porch. "That would be great. I forgot I don't have a car for the time being."

Mark chuckled, and we walked over to his van. We got in and headed toward the clubhouse.

"Have a visitor last night?" Mark asked.

I glanced at him. "Were you spying on me?"

"Well, it's hard not to since we live on top of each other, and the roar of a motorcycle is noticeable. Also, he paid me a visit, too."

I reared back. "Really?"

Mark nodded and turned onto the main road to the clubhouse. "Mr. Fade asked me to keep an eye on you last night. He was pretty vague about why, but I could tell he was serious."

"Keep an eye on me? What does that mean?" I had made sure both of my doors were locked. That was more than enough to keep me safe, right?

Mark shrugged. "I don't know, but I barely slept a wink because I was worried you were going to be abducted by aliens or something," he joked.

I laughed and shook my head. "I think you guys might be overreacting a bit. I was fine last night."

Mark shrugged. "Whatever you say, sweetheart. I know that man talked to me about you like Yarder talks to me about Poppy."

That was a confusing sentence, but I managed to follow along. "And just how is that?" I asked.

"Like he really, really, really fucking cares."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Mark shook his head. "Yeah, I figured you would be blind to it."

We drove silently the rest of the way while I freaked out in my head. What the heck was Mark talking about? He talked about me like he cared? Really cared times three ?

We pulled into the parking lot, and Garett was outside getting footage of the construction crew laying the foundation for the new garage. The sight of the new project brought a sense of normalcy, something to focus on other than the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in my mind.

I got out of the van and took a deep breath, ready to face the day. Mark gave me a reassuring nod before heading inside.

"Morning, Garett," I called out as I walked over to him.

"Morning, Adalee," he replied, adjusting his camera. "Ready for the interview?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said with a nervous laugh.

"Good luck," he said. "Fade's inside. I have the camera all set up for you. I figured just you in the room would be better than having Mark and me watching. Fade's been waiting for you. He asked me where you were when I got here half an hour ago."

I nodded and made my way into the clubhouse.

Fade was looking for me? Wondering where I was?

That was totally new. I was the one always looking for him and trying to track him down. It was totally work-related, though.

The familiar scent of leather and motor oil greeted me, a comforting reminder of the world I had become a part of. I found Fade in the main room, looking over some papers.

How did Fade always look so good? It was almost unfair. His faded jeans hugged his legs just right, and his white shirt, stretched over his muscular frame, contrasted perfectly with his black leather cut. Black motorcycle boots completed the look, giving him an air of rugged danger. His face, though—his face was like Prince Charming, all strong lines and piercing eyes. But his body screamed biker, a blend of power and raw masculinity that made it hard to look away. A motorcycle-driving Prince Charming.

"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," he replied, looking up and giving me a small smile. "You ready for this?"

"I think I should be the one asking you that. You're the one who's been dodging me for days."

"Well, you can mark today as the day you catch me." Fade stood and folded the papers in half. "Let me just put these in my room."

I nodded. "Why don't you just meet me in the production room?"

I headed down the hallway to the makeshift production room while Fade trailed behind me and entered his room. As I stepped into the production room, I was glad to see that Garett had not only set up the camera but also the backdrop and stool, which were situated just right. I got my notes from my binder and read through them while waiting for Fade.

A few minutes later, Fade walked into the room. Just the sight of him made my stomach do a flip. Butterflies fluttered wildly as he approached. He looked effortlessly handsome in his faded jeans and white shirt, the black leather cut adding an edge to his Prince Charming face.

"Ready for me?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

I shook my head gently, trying to focus. "Uh, yeah. I am totally ready for you."

Fade smirked and made his way over to the stool in front of the backdrop. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This was just an interview, I reminded myself. Just an interview with a man who made my heart race and my thoughts scatter.

Easy peasy.

"Alright," I said, taking my place beside the camera. "Let's get started."

Fade nodded, settling onto the stool with a casual grace that only made my butterflies worse. I glanced at my notes, trying to find my footing.

I reached over to turn on the camera and took a deep breath.

"So, Fade," I began, trying to keep my voice steady, "can you tell me about the recent activities of the Iron Fiends? What's been going on?"

Fade raised an eyebrow, looking at me with that intense gaze that always made my stomach flutter. "Activities?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Yeah, America was going to love Fade. I could already imagine the viewers being drawn in by his rugged charm and mysterious demeanor.

"Let's start with the garage," I suggested, hoping to steer him in the right direction.

"Adalee," he rumbled, his voice making my name sound like a caress.

I fanned my face with the papers, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "Yes?"

"Turn the camera off."

I rolled my eyes but reached over to turn off the camera. The red light blinked out, signaling that we were no longer recording. "What's wrong?" I asked, trying to sound patient.

"How the hell do I answer those questions?" he asked, his frustration evident.

"Um, with whatever has been going on," I laughed, not understanding why he was struggling. "I didn't think they were that hard of questions."

Fade thinned his lips and just glared at me, making me feel like I had missed something obvious.

"What if I get more specific?" I suggested. "It's not like my voice is going to be in the final cut. I'll try to direct you a bit, okay?"

"You won't be in the show?" he asked, his expression softening just a bit.

I shook my head and scoffed. "That is a negative, Fade. Last I checked, I am not a part of the Iron Fiends. I'm just a boring production assistant that no one cares about."

"That's bullshit," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I laughed and reached over to turn on the camera again. "That is show business, Fade." I turned on the camera and looked down at my notes. "Why don't you tell me about Faye and Anthony? Was he a part of the club?"

"Fuck no," he said, his voice full of disdain.

I reached over and turned off the camera. "Uh, maybe try not to cuss. I mean, you can, but it's going to be bleeped out."

"Bleep it out, cupcake. I'm not going to change the way I speak."

"Okay," I drawled, knowing they were going to have to do a lot of editing with this footage. Don might regret insisting on getting Fade on camera. I was probably going to have to edit it before I even sent it to him.

I turned back on the camera. "Why don't you just describe to me what happened with Faye and Anthony? What did you see?"

Fade took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. "Faye came into the picture when Olive did. They both were cleaning the gym for us. The gym exploded and knocked Olive on her ass. Come to find out, it was Faye's ex, Anthony, who had it out for her. He was trying to take Faye out but accidentally got Olive instead. He was on the run for a while, and the cops tried to find him."

I nodded, scribbling down notes. "What happened then?"

"Faye was hiding out with us until we got a handle on the Anthony situation, but for some reason, she took off when the garage blew up. Olive thinks that Faye might have thought it was Anthony who had done it."

"Was it?" I asked.

"Turns out it was a ruptured gas line. It had nothing to do with Anthony."

"Did Faye ever find that out?" I questioned.

Fade shrugged. "No clue if Faye figured it was just an accident. We were looking for her when they both showed up at the clubhouse. He pulled a gun, shot Faye, and then started waving it around. We had no choice but to take him down."

My heart pounded as I listened to Fade's account. It was intense and raw, exactly what we needed for the show. "Did you think he was going to shoot anyone else?" I asked.

"I didn't even give him a chance to think about shooting anyone else. I wish I would have taken him out before he shot Faye."

I could hear the regret and guilt in his voice.

"Olive planned her funeral. Faye didn't have any family."

Lord have mercy. I didn't really know much about Faye. She had been around the clubhouse, but she kept to herself for the most part.

Fade looked off to the side, and I let the silence hang for a bit. I needed to change the subject and give him something easier to talk about.

"So, let's talk about Sloane and Aero getting married," I suggested, trying to lighten the mood. "And the puppies becoming part of the club."

Fade's expression softened, and he started to talk. He was a natural in front of the camera, speaking as if he were having a conversation with another person rather than being recorded. It was refreshing. With past shows, it had been murder trying to get people to be as natural as Fade was.

He told stories about Aero and Sloane, even the book signing they had met at, and the chaos of having a bunch of puppies around. His eyes lit up, and for a moment, the heavy weight of Faye's death seemed to lift. I could see why the producers wanted him on camera; he had a charisma that drew people in.

After his retelling of the puppies coming home, I turned off the camera.

"How did I do?" Fade asked.

I scribbled down a note to edit out a few things before I sent the footage to Don. "I think you did amazing. This is exactly what the producers were looking for."

"Thank fuck," Fade sighed, visibly relaxing.

I set aside my notes and looked at Fade. The thing was, I knew everything he had just said was a complete lie. He told the same story all the other guys had, and I knew it was complete bullshit. At first, I fell for it, but after the shooting yesterday, I knew none of it was true. I knew that Anthony and Faye dated, but there had to be more to the story.

"What is it, cupcake?" he asked, noticing my silence.

I leveled my gaze on him. "You're so full of shit, Fade, I'm surprised your eyes aren't brown."

Fade looked at the camera.

"It's off," I drawled. "You can't fool me anymore, Fade. There is so much more to your story, and I want to know."

"No."

I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm pretty sure your "no" is shit after I almost got killed yesterday. My biggest worry is getting an interview with you when, in reality, we're all possibly one step away from getting shot."

Fade's jaw clenched, and he looked away again. "It's not that simple, Adalee. There are things you don't understand."

"Then make me understand," I insisted. "You think I'm going to walk away now? After everything?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "This isn't just about the club. It's about survival. It's about protecting the people we care about."

"And lying to me is protecting me?" I asked, my voice rising. "You think keeping me in the dark is going to help?"

"It's not about lying," he said, his voice harsh. "It's about keeping everyone safe. Do you really think we can just blab everything to the camera, Adalee? There are people trying to take out the whole fucking club right now, and you're on my ass to tell the whole story."

I shook my head, frustration boiling over. "You think I'm safer not knowing what's really going on?"

"Yes," he snapped. "Because the truth will put a target on your back. The less you know, the better."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I can't do my job if I'm being kept in the dark. I'm supposed to tell the story of the Iron Fiends."

"We're giving you the story you can tell," he countered.

"And the real story is going to kill us all," I snapped back. "What on earth is going on?"

Fade looked at me, his eyes searching mine. "You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know exactly what I'm asking for," I said firmly. "I'm asking for the truth. No more lies, no more half-truths. Just the truth. You don't have to tell it to the camera, but you damn sure tell me."

He was silent for a long moment, and I could see the internal struggle in his eyes. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. You want the truth? I'll give it to you. But you better be ready for it, Adalee. Because once you know, there's no going back."

I nodded, my heart pounding. "I'm ready."

Fade took a deep breath, his expression hardening. "Not here. I know you said the camera isn't recording, but I don't trust it."

"Then where?" I asked.

He stood and held his hand out to me. "Let's go for a ride."