Page 4 of Fallen Dove (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #1)

Mason

The coffee tasted strong enough to wake the dead which was exactly how I liked it. I leaned against the kitchen counter in the clubhouse, steam curled up from my mug, and looked out the window. The sun was barely over the tree line, and the grass outside was still damp from last night’s dew.

“I don’t know how you manage to wake up so early when you shut that club down every night.”

Mac’s voice carried from the common room. A second later she came into view. Her hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, and her blazer was wrinkled just enough to say she didn’t give a damn. She was in her late fifties, strong, authoritative, and as average-looking as they came. Not ugly, not glamorous, just solid. The kind of woman who blended in until she opened her mouth, and then you couldn’t ignore her. We had just met a few days ago, but I liked her.

I shrugged and lifted my mug.

“I sleep until I’m not sleeping anymore.”

She blinked at me over half-closed eyes.

“My brain cannot even compute that right now.”

I smirked as she shuffled toward the coffeepot. She poured herself a cup, added a splash of cream, and leaned on the counter beside me, sipping like it was life support.

Mac had been here for four days now. She stayed in the clubhouse while the rest of her crew rented out a house on the edge of town. She wasn’t a problem. Cool enough to talk to, didn’t push too hard, and we all knew she was just here to do her job. The sooner she got it done, the sooner she’d be out of our hair.

“You guys ever gonna start filming?”

I asked, and nodded toward the corner camera they’d mounted up high.

Mac smiled at me over her mug.

“That’s refreshing. The Iron Fiends were always begging us to turn them off.”

I chuckled.

“The Fiends had a pretty good reason not to. They were dealing with more shit than any club should.”

“Yeah,”

she huffed.

“but that would’ve made one hell of a show.”

“You’re right. But let’s hope nothing like that happens here.”

Mac shrugged, smirking like she knew something I didn’t.

“Who knows what will happen? All I know is we’re here to record it. The first season with the Iron Fiends is getting amazing reviews, and the network’s chomping at the bit for us to get you guys on camera.”

I pointed my mug at the lens in the corner.

“Flip that sucker on and let’s get this show on the road.”

She laughed, and shook her head.

“We’re looking at Thursday or Friday. Today and tomorrow, we’re grabbing filler footage of the town, the clubhouse, and the bikes. Good for transitions and whatnot.”

I nodded.

“Will you be at the Social Club tonight?”

“To record,”

she confirmed quickly.

“Just the Social Club. We’ll need waivers signed from anyone in the shots, but it’s filler. The fans love seeing the clubs’ spaces. Hell, most of the people eating up the Fiends’ season are just there to look at their clubhouse and hangouts.”

I’d watched the first episode of Treads. I got the appeal. For people who didn’t live it, the life looked wild. For those of us inside it, it was just… life.

“As long as Wrecker’s good with it, I’m good.”

Mac sighed.

“That man is driving me crazy. President of the club, but I never see him. Might have to track him down at that damn farm of his.”

Bad idea. Alice might’ve been sweet, but she was also unpredictable, and from what I’d heard, not interested in cameras following her around.

“Try calling before you head out there,”

I advised.

“Yeah, yeah.”

She waved me off.

“He’ll have to show up eventually. I’ll catch him once these cameras turn on that we have installed everywhere. They are going to record twenty-four-seven.”

“Camera’s gonna love the younger guys anyway,”

I said.

“Leave us old geezers alone.”

“Who the hell are you calling geezers?”

Junior walked into the room, shirtless, running a hand through his messy hair. He yawned and stretched, muscles flexing as he headed toward the coffee.

“You and me, Junior,”

I said with a laugh.

“Having all these kids move in aged me at least ten years.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mac staring. Not like a producer scoping out a scene. More like a woman caught off guard by a shirtless man in his prime.

Junior didn’t notice, or pretended not to.

“I can keep up with any of them,”

he said and poured coffee into a mug.

“We got food?”

I nodded.

“Carnie dropped stuff off yesterday. Freezer’s stocked.”

Carnie, Freak’s ol’ lady, had been feeding the clubhouse since before the kids were born. She loved cooking, and we loved eating it. Made for an easy setup.

Junior opened the freezer and dug around.

“Breakfast burrito?”

he called.

Mac shook her head.

“I need to get over to the house and figure out my day with the crew. I’ll grab something on the way.”

“I’ll take one before I head to the Social Club,” I said.

Junior pulled out two foil-wrapped bundles. He tossed them into the air fryer.

“Ten minutes?”

I shrugged.

“Sounds right.”

Directions were probably written somewhere, but what fun was that? Either they’d come out frozen solid or hot enough to burn the roof of our mouths. Ten minutes would tell.

Mac finished her coffee, tucked her blazer tighter around her, and headed out with a wave.

“Don’t cause too much trouble before we turn those cameras on.”

When the door shut behind her, Junior and I stood there sipping our coffee in quiet for a moment.

“You ever think we should try to sleep in?”

Junior asked finally.

I laughed.

“This is me sleeping in. I laid in bed for an hour before I came out here.”

“Same,”

Junior grunted.

“Guess we really are the old geezers.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

He leaned against the counter, mug in hand.

“How was the night?”

I stiffened just a little.

“The night?”

“With Adley,”

he clarified.

“New waitresses usually cause a little chaos before they figure things out. You came out for a second when she left, but you didn’t say anything.”

I forced myself to relax. No reason to get defensive.

“She was fine. Penny kept an eye on her. She’ll be good.”

Junior nodded.

“Good. Less headaches for us.”

We let the conversation drift after that, both half-awake while waiting for the air fryer to ding. When it finally beeped, Junior pulled the burritos out.

They felt scorching on the outside, which should’ve been a warning. But we both bit in anyway.

“Jesus Christ!”

I barked, and spit mine back onto the plate. I grabbed juice from the fridge and poured two glasses quickly.

Junior made a strangled noise, with his cheeks puffed as he huffed and puffed like a dragon trying to cool the fire in his mouth.

I shoved a glass toward him.

“Drink it before you torch your tongue off.”

Junior gulped it down, still fanning his mouth with his cheeks puffed out.

I sat back and shook my head.

“Ten minutes might’ve been a bit much.”

Junior shot me a watery-eyed glare.

“Might’ve?!”

I laughed, the sound echoing through the empty kitchen, and chased the lava bite with my own glass of juice.

We gave the burritos another five minutes to cool down before daring to try again. This time, they were edible. Carnie’s cooking never missed; it was just us idiots with the air fryer settings.

Junior leaned against the counter, chewing, while I sat at the table with my plate. “Not bad,”

he mumbled through a mouthful.

“Once they’re not trying to kill us, yeah,”

I agreed, and smirked as I finished mine off.

Silence settled in, easy and familiar. The clubhouse was never truly quiet, but mornings like this came close. Just coffee, food, and the hum of a place that had seen more nights than mornings.

I rinsed my plate, set it in the sink, and topped off my coffee. My body was tired, but my mind was already working. League night meant the Social Club would be slammed again, and I’d rather be ahead than scrambling.

“Think I’ll head in early,”

I said, more to myself than to Junior.

He grunted in agreement, and finished the last bite of his burrito.

“Figures. You live for that place.”

I didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. The Social Club kept me busy, gave me purpose, and most days, that was enough.

Today, though… today felt like it might be different.