Page 54 of Falcon’s Forever

“And Ice Pick?” Falcon asks.

“He’s at the rear fence,” Zip replies.

"Rotate in twenty," Falcon tells him, and Zip nods, glances at the women. "Everyone okay?"

"Mostly," Sarah answers.

"Mostly counts," Zip says, and disappears again, and there's something different in the way Falcon watches him go, less like he needs to carry every man in this club and more like he trusts them to carry themselves.

Falcon closes the empty box. "I should go."

Maya looks put out. "You just got here."

"I'm working." He shakes his head at her.

"Boring." She rolls her eyes.

"Terrible habit," he says, and carries the box toward the door, and I follow him, not because I need to, apparently my feet just have opinions of their own.

At the doorway he stops. "Lock the door behind me."

I raise an eyebrow.

He catches himself. "Please."

That almost gets a smile out of me. "That’s better."

Falcon opens the front door, and cold air sweeps through the hallway. Before stepping outside, he looks back toward the living room.

“Do you have the security phone?” he asks.

“Yes,” I confirm.

“Is it charged?” Falcon continues.

I plant my hands on my hips. “Falcon.”

“Right.” He releases a slow breath. “Sorry.”

“You’re allowed to ask questions,” I tell him.

“Apparently not too many,” he replies.

“That depends on the questions,” I point out.

Falcon shifts the remaining box beneath his arm. Neither of us speaks for a moment.

I should let him leave.

Instead, I ask, “How long are you on patrol?”

“Until two,” he answers.

“You were out last night too,” I remind him.

“Not all night,” Falcon says.

“That wasn’t what I said.”