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Yep.
That sounded about right.
When I rolled out of bed the next morning, I found Dezi and Crow had been replaced by Niro and his father, the stubborn-ass who refused to slow down even with a pretty severe leg break. The man was full of pins for fuck's sake. But like my father figured out long ago, and I was beginning to as well, you couldn't keep Pagan down.
I'd offered them coffee, and they'd given me what was left of the bagels they'd picked up on their way over.
"Shit," I said immediately when I saw Danny—looking better than she had any right to in my t-shirt—peeking out into the kitchen from the hallway. Pressing a finger to my lips, I nudged her back inside my bedroom, closing the door, and randomly clicking something on the TV to create some noise.
"Guards," she guessed, nodding.
"Yeah. Gonna have to keep you in here and quiet for the moment. Did you need something?" I asked.
"Coffee," she said, sounding desperate. "To help me choke down some aspirin," she added. "My head is killing me."
She didn't need to say it was from crying. We both knew.
"How do you take it?"
"Black. Sugar. And was that a bag of bagels?" she asked, perking up a bit.
"Yeah. What do you like?"
"Anything but everything or garlic," she said. "And plain."
"No butter or cream cheese?"
"Nope."
"You're an interesting woman, Danny," I declared, moving off to get us each some breakfast.
Back in my bed, we both looked at the random movie on the TV, but neither of us seemed to be watching it, getting lost in our own thoughts instead.
"I can go if you distract the guards," she said what seemed like hours later.
"What?"
"I, you know, I busted in on you. I don't want to overstay. I had no money last night, but now that the bank is open, I have access to some. I can get a room somewhere, and—"
"No," I cut her off.
"No?" she asked, glancing over at me, face carefully guarded, giving nothing away.
"No. You can stay here."
"Fallon..."
"You're staying here," I insisted again. "First, you're safer here. Second, I get to watch more movies and eat shitty food with you if you're here. Can't do that if you're in some motel somewhere."
"Your men..."
"Yeah," I agreed, taking a deep breath followed by a sip of coffee, trying to force my thoughts to come out in a way that wouldn't freak her out. "I am going to have to handle that."
"Handle it how? You need them here to protect you."
"Us," I corrected. "But yeah, I agree. I can't just tell them to leave. Which is why I need to handle the situation."
"How though?"
"I'm going to come clean about us," I told her.
"What? No. You can't do that."
"I can, actually. I'm going to."
"Do you want to lose your club too?" she asked, sounding choked. "I can't be responsible for that."
"It won't happen, babe," I told her, reaching out to give her thigh a squeeze. "Our club dynamics are different. These people are my family. They won't kick me out. They might have some choice things to say, but they're rational. They'll listen, and let me explain."
"Explain what, though?" she pressed. She needed to hear it. I needed to say it. It was just going to be confusing if we didn't clear this shit up already.
"Explain that you and I are a thing now."
"We're not a—"
"Aren't we, though?" I cut her off because she could convince herself otherwise. "I mean, yeah, it started as just fucking. But I think we are past that."
"Because we watched movies together?"
"Because, whether we understand it or not, we both want more than just fucking," I clarified. "Are you going to try to tell me you don't?"
"I... we can't want more than just fucking. I don't... I don't do more than just fucking," she added, looking confused.
"I don't either. But here we are. Look, I'm not getting down on one knee and shit, but I'm saying I think we have a connection here. And if we are going to explore that, my club needs to know. I can't keep them in the dark. It's not right."
"And what if they aren't as calm and rational as you think they will be? What if they want you to get rid of me?"
"Babe, my club and my family can give me all the opinions they want, but I'm a grown-ass fucking man, and they aren't going to tell me who I can or can't date. It's that simple."
"You hope it's that simple."
"You're a fucking headache, you know that?" I asked, shooting her a smirk.
"Yes, I do," she agreed, smiling back. "But you're the masochist who wants that pain all the time."
"That's true," I agreed.
"When are you going to talk to them?" she asked.
"Soon. Today."
"Oh, okay. Well, I will get dressed and head—"
"Babe, you're not heading anywhere but on the back of my bike," I cut her off.
