Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Shock?
Anger?
A combination of the two, maybe.
"I, it's nothing," Jacob insisted, reaching to try to tuck whatever it was back into his pocket.
But he underestimated Fallon, who closed the distance between them, reached down, yanked up Jacob's hand, and pried the silver thing out of the kid's palm.
"Fallon, fill us in," Laz invited, watching the interaction.
"This is my dad's fucking money clip," Fallon declared, holding it up.
"Looks generic," I said, seeing nothing differentiating about it.
"Yeah?" Fallon shot back. "Then why are mine and my siblings' names on the inside?" he asked, a muscle in his jaw ticking before he turned back to Jacob. "Where did you find this?" he demanded, heated but not enraged, likely thinking Jacob had found it around the clubhouse and had swiped it. Which was shitty, but not something to lose his mind over.
But I was pretty sure Fallon saw it when I saw it.
Something crossed Jacob's face. Something dark and guilty. Something that made his jaw go tight, his gaze skitter away.
"Have you seen my father?" Fallon roared, the sound loud enough to make me wince.
"What's going on?" Eva asked, appearing at my side, drying her hands on a dishtowel casually until she saw the older, bigger biker towering over her son.
"Fucking answer me, kid," Fallon demanded, getting closer as Jacob's jaw went tight, his gaze unwavering on the coffee table in front of him.
Something wasn't right.
I could see it.
And, what's more, Fallon could see it.
"Colson?" Eva asked, voice rising a bit.
"Jacob has something that belongs to our president," I told her.
"Jacob! Did you steal from here? Are you out of your freaking mind?" she hissed, eyes moving around the room, worried about the men gathered, and what they might do to her son or her.
"Where did you fucking find this, kid?" Fallon roared, making Jacob jump, his shoulders pulling up toward his ears.
"For God's sake, Jacob. Answer him," Eva pleaded.
"He's not answering because he didn't fucking get it from around here," Fallon declared. "Right, kid? You found this somewhere else. Tell me where."
"He was here last night," Eva insisted, and I could feel her gaze on me, silently begging me to step in, to make Fallon calm down.
But I wasn't sure that there was any calming him down until he got the answers he needed.
"Where the fuck did you find the clip?" Fallon demanded again, hand grabbing the front of Jacob's shirt, hauling him off the couch, yanking him close to his face. "I don't give a fuck if you're underage," he told him. "I will beat the information out of you if I need to."
I expected Jacob to crack. Which was why I pushed Eva back when she tried to charge forward. He wasn't a street kid. He was soft.
But someone had gotten to him, had said something to make him keep his lips clamped shut.
"Fine," Fallon decided, arm cocking back.
Eva's voice gasped inward.
I didn't know what was right in that moment, what Reign would have thought was the correct move.
All I knew was what my own moral compass said.
And that was that I couldn't let Fallon beat the shit out of a kid.
Making my way across the space, I grabbed Fallon's hand, removing it from Jacob's shirt, then moving between them, forcing Jacob to fall back onto the couch.
"Fucking move, Colson," Fallon snapped.
"No."
"That fucker has an item that my father would have had on him when he disappeared. Get the fuck out of my way so I can figure out where he found it."
"You need to calm down," I declared. "Then we can all talk."
"You saw him. He doesn't want to talk," Fallon growled. "I have to make him talk."
"I can't let that happen," I told him, trying for calm even as my own mind was racing with the implications of what it could mean that Jacob potentially had contact with Reign, or knew who might.
I underestimated Fallon. and his desperation to find his father.
I barely even noticed the motion as his hand went into his waistband.
But I damn sure noticed it when the gun cocked and pressed to my forehead.
"Get out of my fucking way, Colson."
"Fallon," Lazarus tried, calm, patient, not wanting to set him and his itchy trigger-finger off.
"Oh my God. Oh my God," Eva's voice cried as I could hear feet on stairs to the basement, someone going to get Cash.
"Move," Fallon demanded, pressing the muzzle of the gun deeper into my skin
"That's enough of that," I could hear Huck grumble.
Within two seconds, he was across the room, grabbing Fallon at the wrist, pointing the gun toward the ceiling as he twisted between me and Fallon, slamming a massive hand into Fallon's chest, sending him flying backward, across the closest chair as he slipped the gun out of his hand.
"The fuck is the matter with you?" Huck demanded, shoving Fallon in the chest again as he tried to scramble up.