Chapter Twenty-Two

Adalee

"I need more," Fallon whined, eyes fixed on the batter-covered spoon in my hand.

I laughed as I handed it to her and put the dirty bowl in the sink. "You're going to have to wait until it comes out of the oven."

Fallon sighed heavily. "Fine, but there's just something about cake batter that makes me feral. You should figure out how to make cake batter shots or something."

"Um, I think technically you shouldn't eat too much raw cake batter," I laughed. "I don't think raw eggs are the best."

Fallon waved her hand at me and licked the spoon clean. "Girl, I have licked the beaters since I was a kid, and I've never gotten sick. Figure out how to do a shot of cake batter, and I will bring in the masses."

I leaned against the counter and wiped my hands on the dish towel. "That is exactly what I need. I'm more than good at doing all the baking and decorating. When it comes to dealing with customers and getting people in the door, I'd rather be in the kitchen."

Fallon tipped her head to the side. "I don't know if you realized this, but I, too, am unemployed thanks to a dickhead man." She motioned between us. "Common ground."

I looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "You think we should team up?"

"Why not?" Fallon shrugged. "I can handle the people; you handle the cakes. We could open a bakery together."

The idea sounded appealing but also daunting because I had tried this before. "It's a lot to think about," I said slowly. "There's so much that goes into starting a business. And it wouldn't really be a bakery. I want to only do cakes. Maybe cupcakes because, honestly, those are just little cakes."

"The Cakery!" Fallon exclaimed. "Put what you are right in the name. If we said Adalee's Bakery or something like that, people would expect donuts, breads, pastries."

I wrinkled my nose. I loved to bake but wasn't looking to bake fifty different things. I wanted to make a cake and be the best around it. "I like the sound of that."

"Like the sound of what?" Fade asked as he walked into the kitchen, glancing between me and Fallon.

My eyes went wide, and I froze. It was one thing to daydream about with Fallon, but talking to Fade about actually doing it felt like a whole different level of seriousness.

Fallon, ever the enthusiastic one, jumped in before I could gather my thoughts. "Adalee and I are going to open The Cakery. We're only going to have cakes and cupcakes. She's going to do all of the baking and decorating, and I'm going to handle everything else."

Fade looked back and forth between us, his expression unreadable. I braced myself for the inevitable criticism, half-expecting him to tell us we were out of our minds. Hell, I sometimes thought we were crazy, too.

Instead, his eyes softened, and he nodded thoughtfully. "I know a place on Main Street. The rent is decent and in a good location with easy parking."

Fallon's eyes lit up. "What's the address? I can have Compass Google Street View it since he still won't let me have my phone."

Fade chuckled. "That's because he smashed the damn thing, and then Dice burned it. That guy has a thing for fire."

Fallon rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I told him not to, but you know how it goes."

"You can use my phone," I offered, trying to be helpful.

Fade shook his head. "No, you won't let Fallon use your phone."

"I can open a bakery with her, but I can't let her use my phone?" I asked. That didn't make sense.

Fallon folded her arms over her chest. "I like her even more now."

"Just until we find Russ," Fade said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Fallon tipped her head to the side, a hint of frustration in her voice. "What happens if you never find Russ?"

"Then no outside world for you," Fade said with a laugh. "It's part of the deal."

"That seems kind of harsh," I said, frowning slightly.

Fade walked over to me and pulled me into his arms, his touch warm and reassuring. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to my lips, which made me melt against him. "It's not harsh," he murmured against my lips. "It's just how things are right now. We're dealing with a lot, and this is how we manage it."

I sighed into his embrace. "I just wish this whole Gibbs and Boone thing would go away. If I ever meet these guys, I will kick them in the nuts."

Fade's laughter bubbled up, deep and genuine, and he pulled back slightly to look at me. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and a wide, teasing grin spread across his face. "You'd seriously do that, huh?" he asked, still chuckling.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. "Hell yes, I would. They've made everything so much harder for us. I'm done with their games."

Fade laughed again, the sound rich and contagious. It was the kind of laugh that seemed to lift the weight of the world from our shoulders, even if just for a moment. "I love that you're so fierce about this," he said, still grinning. "Maybe we just need to sic you on them."

"Son of a bitch!" the shout echoed loudly from down the hallway, and I jumped, my heart racing from the sudden noise. I looked up at Fade, who was already moving toward the sound, his face a mix of confusion and concern.

"What the hell was that?" Fade asked, his voice low and edged with a protective undertone.

"I have no idea," I said, my voice trembling slightly as I followed him into the hallway. The air was thick with tension, and I could feel the adrenaline building up inside me.

We rounded the corner just in time to see Yarder barreling into the common room, his face flushed and his steps heavy. Poppy was close behind, looking equally alarmed but trying to keep up with Yarder's swift pace.

"I have no idea what is going on," she whispered to me. "We were just lying in bed, and then he looked at his phone and jumped up like a swarm of bees stung his ass."

The rest of the club members, drawn by the commotion, were pouring into the common room, their faces reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What the hell is going on?" Fade demanded, trying to catch Yarder's eye as he stormed through the room.

I could see the frustration etched into his features, and it was clear this was something serious.

Yarder didn't immediately answer. Instead, he continued his furious march toward the front door, his fists clenched at his sides. Poppy was trying to keep up, her eyes darting around as if searching for answers.

"The new camera crew," Yarder growled, finally letting the words out in a rough, angry tone.

"What about it?" Cue Ball asked from his spot near the kitchen, his brows knitted in confusion. The room was buzzing with whispers, and everyone was trying to piece together what was happening.

Yarder's eyes flashed with irritation as he stared at the front door. "They're out-fucking-side."

The realization hit me like a ton of bricks: it had been a whole week since I'd been fired. A week spent trying to figure out my next steps, which seemed to be my new normal. I was still reeling from it all, balancing my new reality of being part of the club and having my life upended.

As I stood in the common room with Fallon next to me, my mind churned, wondering why Mark hadn't mentioned a word about them coming today. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, especially since Don's email had stated that Mark was in charge of managing this entire situation. Was Mark aware of the new crew, or had something changed without his knowledge?

The sound of footsteps drew me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Mark shuffling into the common room. He looked disheveled, itching his face and clearly struggling to wake up. "What the hell is going on?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

I exchanged a worried glance with Fallon. If Mark didn't know about the crew arriving, then this was definitely not a good sign.

Before I could answer, a knock echoed through the room. The sound made everyone stiffen. None of us wanted to deal with whoever was on the other side of that door, but it was clear that the situation wasn't going to go away.

"Come in," Yarder's voice rang out. "I'm not going to open the fucking door for them because they're not goddamn welcome," he muttered.

Even Yarder was clearly fed up with the situation. The irritation in his voice was palpable.

The door swung open with a creak, and two men walked in, their presence commanding immediate attention. One was dressed sharply in a suit that made him stand out even more in the informal setting of the clubhouse. The other man was more casual in cargo shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't recognize either of them, but their air of importance was unmistakable.

Fallon, who had been standing next to me, gasped audibly. The spoon she had been holding clattered to the floor.