Page 6 of Fallen Dove (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #1)
Mason
Coffee always tasted stronger at the clubhouse.
Maybe it was the old pot that had been there longer than me, or maybe it was the fact that no matter how much Carnie stocked the freezer, nobody ever remembered to buy decent grounds. Either way, the bitter burn suited me this morning. I leaned against the counter in the clubhouse kitchen, mug in hand, and stared out the window. Peaceful for now. Wouldn’t stay that way.
Last night’s league night still buzzed in my head. The Social Club had been packed with tables full, and pool games running until the chalk wore thin on the sticks. The kids had hustled, and Penny kept Adley close until the floor swallowed them both up in the rush.
Adley.
I tightened my grip on the mug.
The image of that drunk bastard’s hand brushing her hip replayed like a bad loop I couldn’t turn off. I’d seen it from behind the bar, the way she stiffened when he leaned in. And before I even thought about it, I was across the room.
I’d told myself it was about the rules. About being the boss keeping the waitresses safe and protecting the reputation of the Social Club. All of that was true. But it wasn’t the whole truth.
The truth was it felt personal. Too personal.
My gut had lit up like someone dropped a match into gasoline, and for a second, I wanted to do more than throw the guy out. I wanted to make sure he never set foot in Weston again alive.
And that scared the hell out of me.
Because Adley wasn’t just some waitress. She was Slayer’s daughter. She was the girl who kissed me fourteen years ago, the one I told myself I couldn’t touch, not then and not ever.
But she wasn’t a girl anymore. And ignoring that fact was getting harder by the day.
“Morning, old man.”
Junior’s voice cut into my thoughts. He strolled into the kitchen shirtless, hair sticking up, scratching at his jaw. He didn’t look like a man pushing forty. We were the oldest ones left in the clubhouse, so the kids treated us like grandpas all the same.
I grunted. “Morning.”
He poured himself a mug and leaned against the counter across from me, sipping like it was whiskey instead of coffee. His eyes flicked toward me, knowing.
“Heard you scared the shit out of some guy last night.”
I shrugged and kept my face blank.
“He crossed a line.”
Junior’s mouth curved into a half-smile.
“You usually don’t move that fast when someone crosses a line. You let ‘em stew a little, give ‘em a warning. Last night you looked ready to drag him out by his throat.”
My jaw tightened.
“I did what needed doing.”
“Uh-huh.”
Junior’s smirk widened.
“And it just so happened Slayer’s daughter was the one who got grabbed.”
I glared at him over my mug.
“Watch it.”
He chuckled and held up a hand.
“Relax. I’m not saying you were wrong. Guy had it coming. I’m just saying you don’t usually give a damn this early in a waitress’s run. Most of ‘em have to earn your protection. She got it on night two.”
“She’s new,”
I said evenly.
“She doesn’t know how it works yet. Penny can handle herself, but Adley,”
I cut myself off before I said too much.
“Adley what?”
Junior prodded.
I shook my head.
“Nothing. She’ll figure it out. Penny kept her straight. She’ll be fine.”
Junior sipped his coffee, but his eyes stayed on me, sharp. He knew me too well. He could smell when I was dodging.
Before he could press further, the kitchen door opened and Mac walked in, blazer sharp, hair pulled back tight, phone in one hand and coffee thermos in the other. She looked like she hadn’t slept, but she always looked like that.
“Morning, boys,”
she said briskly.
“You guys really are not sticking to the biker stereotype by sleeping all day and partying all night. Maybe you could try to sleep in past seven.”
Junior grunted.
“This is us sleeping in.”
She gave him a once-over, and I caught the flicker in her eyes again. She tried to cover it by raising her coffee, but I saw it. Mac was tough, professional, but she wasn’t blind. Junior shirtless was throwing her off her game.
I smirked into my mug and didn’t say a word.
Mac cleared her throat and focused back on me.
“So. Last night. Sounded like some excitement.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Who told you that?”
“I know everything.”
She paused.
“And the camera guy was still there waiting for a burger and fries.”
I leaned back against the counter, voice flat.
“Guy crossed a line. That’s all.”
She arched a brow.
“Shame the cameras weren’t rolling. That kind of drama plays well on screen.”
I snorted.
“We’re not putting that kind of shit on TV.”
“Relax.”
She smirked.
“I’m just saying, it’s the kind of thing viewers eat up. Don’t worry, we’re not here to create it. We just capture what happens.”
“Good,”
I muttered.
She grabbed her thermos and headed out as quickly as she came in, and called over her shoulder.
“Try to get some of that drama for when the cameras turn on, okay?”
The door swung shut behind her, and silence settled again.
Junior chuckled low.
“She definitely wasn’t looking at me like a producer looks at talent.”
I barked out a laugh despite myself.
“Careful, brother. She’ll eat you alive.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”
He smirked, and sipped his coffee again.
I shook my head, but the humor faded fast. My mind went right back to Adley.
The way she’d looked at me when I told her I wasn’t blind. The way her lips had parted like she wanted to say something else but didn’t.
And the way I’d felt when that guy touched her, like someone had lit a fuse in my chest.
That wasn’t just a boss protecting his waitress. That was something else.
Something I had no damn business feeling.
I slammed back the rest of my coffee and set the mug in the sink.
“I’m heading in.”
Junior raised a brow.
“Already? Place won’t be open for hours.”
“Better than sitting around here,”
I muttered.
He didn’t argue, just shrugged and drained his cup.
I grabbed my cut from the back of the chair, swung it over my shoulders, and headed for the door.
The rules were simple. No staring. No closer than five feet. Only talk about work.
I’d repeat them until they stuck.
Because if they didn’t, I was screwed.