Page 8 of Fallen Dove (Fallen Lords MC 2nd Gen #1)

Adley

I woke up to the sound of Mom’s voice bouncing down the basement stairs.

“Adley! You awake yet?”

“Yes,”

I called back, and scrubbed a hand down my face.

Mom hollered again.

“I’m going to head to the clubhouse. Want to come with me?”

That made me pause.

“Why are you going to the clubhouse?”

I shouted back. I swung my legs out of bed, and spotted a pile of clean clothes on the ottoman. I tugged my jeans up and worked the button closed. My hair was a mess, my eyes still heavy, but at least I was vertical.

I was reaching for socks when she laughed like I should’ve already known.

“All the girls are meeting there to plan Eden’s graduation party!”

I shoved my feet into my tennis shoes and clomped up the stairs.

“Eden graduated back in May, Mom.”

Mom just grinned at me from the kitchen with her purse already slung over her shoulder.

“I know, but Alice didn’t do her party then because everyone else in town was doing theirs, and Eden wanted to go to those instead of her own.”

I pulled the fridge open and leaned into the cool air, scanning shelves. “And now?”

“And now,”

Mom continued.

“we need something exciting for the cameras to capture. Eden’s graduation seems to be the safest thing.”

I laughed and straightened with a carton of apple juice in my hand.

“As if it’s going to take you guys more than half an hour to figure out the party.”

She shrugged, eyes twinkling.

“We can drag it out. Carnie can go crazy with the menu, and Alice can go nuts with the decorations. The rest of us will just make it all come to life.”

I grabbed an apple, polished it against my shirt, and took a big bite.

“Do I need to come? I really just wanted to be a zombie all day and do nothing.”

“Working at the Social Club a little more than you expected?”

she asked, one eyebrow cocked.

I chewed, swallowed, then shrugged.

“I mean, it’s more physical than what I did back in Chicago, but it’s not anything I can’t handle.”

“You just need twenty-four hours to recuperate?”

she teased.

I nodded solemnly.

“Yes, that would be ideal.”

She jingled her keys like a bribe.

“Well, how about you come with me to the clubhouse to plan this party, and then we can get pizza and ice cream on the way home that we can eat while we watch some trash reality show tonight? You’re back home, but I still don’t see you much.”

I bit into my apple again and narrowed my eyes at her.

“Where are we getting ice cream from?”

“Dairy Bar.”

I pointed at her with the apple.

“I’m in. Let’s go get this party planning over with.”

Mom clapped her hands like a kid. “Yes!”

We headed out to her car, and climbed in. The ride to the clubhouse was filled with her humming along to the radio while I watched Weston roll by. My hometown looked smaller after fourteen years away, but in some ways it felt bigger too, like the pieces I’d left behind had grown roots without me.

When we pulled into the clubhouse lot, cars already lined both sides along with a ton of motorcycles. My stomach tightened.

“All the ol’ ladies are here,”

Mom said cheerfully.

“Calla, Eden, Bell, and Clove too.”

I frowned.

“Are they recording this?”

Mom wrinkled her nose, guilty.

“Uh, well, yes.”

I groaned and tipped my head back against the seat. If I’d known cameras would be shoved in my face, I would not have let her bait me with Dairy Bar.

“Deep down I love you, but right now I hate you.”

Mom slung her arm around my shoulders as we walked toward the clubhouse.

“I can deal with that.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped back as she pushed the door open into a wave of noise.

Chaos. Pure, familiar chaos.

That was pretty much normal whenever all the women were in the same room. At least there weren’t crying babies or sticky-fingered toddlers like there had been when I was younger. Back then, I was at least ten years older than all my cousins, and I’d learned really quick not to volunteer for babysitting duty.

Alice, Karmen, and Nikki were spread across the bar with stacks of papers and notebooks. Junior leaned against the back counter, arms crossed, looking way too amused. In the kitchen, Wren, Mayra, and Carnie were already banging pans around and filling the air with the smell of something buttery. Raven and Cora lounged on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them, like they were watching a movie. Calla and Eden were perched on the pool table, swinging their legs, while Bell and Clove dug into plates of pie at the bar.

“About time you two got here,”

Alice called the second she spotted us.

Mom lifted her hand in a wave.

“I told you I was letting Adley sleep in.”

Alice glanced at the oversized clock on the wall, then back at me.

“It is one o’clock in the afternoon, Wendy. I didn’t think Adley had reverted into sleeping like a sixteen-year-old boy.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I held up my hands.

“Working at the Social Club the past three days kicked my butt. I needed to be comatose for a good eleven hours.”

Everyone laughed, the sound bouncing off the clubhouse walls.

I slid onto a chair between Bell and Clove and lowered my voice.

“Are they filming this?”

Nikki didn’t even look up from her legal pad. She pointed her pen at the ceiling, then to a back corner, then above the TV.

“There. There. There. They’re always watching now.”

I followed her finger and, yep, little black domes in the corners, tiny red LEDs winking like smug eyes. I’d expected a guy with a shoulder rig to leap out of a plant, but this was worse. Sneaky.

“I am more than okay with this,”

Alice announced, stabbing her pencil at a page so hard she almost splintered the tip.

“I don’t need to be chased around by a camera crew. Leave me and my cows alone.”

Raven pumped her fist from the couch.

“Yeah! Save that for Wrecker and the guys.”

Bell leaned into me.

“I can confirm the camera is glued to Wrecker. Mac is convinced he’s going to be the standout star of the show.”

I laughed, and the tension in my shoulders loosened.

“I’m okay with that, because that means the camera won’t be on me.”

We bumped fists in a solemn pact of mutual avoidance.

“Alright, Girl Gang,”

Alice said, clapping like a coach bringing a team to order. She wore a headband with tiny felt graduation caps bobbing on springs. Of course she did.

“Eden’s party. Themes, food, games, controlled chaos. Go.”

Eden slid off the pool table and held up both hands.

“Rule o-o-one: nothing with glitter. Please. I’m still finding it from Fox’s birthday p-p-prank.”

Eden had struggled with a stutter ever since her first word. She had worked hard to overcome it, and now it just came out every few words, or when she was nervous.

Calla snorted.

“You mean my iconic art installation?”

“It got in the toaster,”

Eden deadpanned.

“I had glit-t-t-ter on my pop tart the other day.”

Carnie popped out of the kitchen doorway with a wooden spoon like a microphone.

“Menu ideas: brisket sliders, mac ‘n’ cheese bar with toppings, watermelon feta skewers, and a dessert table that makes God weep.”

Wren stuck her head out behind her.

“I vote for a lemon cake with buttercream diplomas.”

“Can we do a nacho fountain?”

Bell asked brightly.

Clove made a face.

“Like a chocolate fountain but… queso?”

“Yes,”

Bell said reverently.

Carnie laughed.

“Technically doable. Will it end in carnage? Also yes.”

“I’ll put it on the board,”

Karmen said, already scribbling on a giant flip chart that appeared from nowhere like she’d been waiting to unleash it.

Nikki ripped a Post-it pad in half with authority.

“We need assignments and a timeline. Permits for the water slide?”

Cora groaned from the couch.

“If you say ‘permit’ one more time, I’m taking your pens away. We don’t need a permit for a water slide.”

“We’re doing it here, right?”

Raven asked and tossing popcorn at Cora and missed.

“Here,”

Alice said immediately.

“The farm is a sanctuary for bovine peace. The cameras are restricted to the road.”

“Sanctuary,”

Mayra laughed and emerged with a tray of mini quiches that smelled like butter and promise.

“Eat first, plan second. Everyone knows the Girl Gang runs on carbs. I could take credit for these, but we all know that Carnie made them.”

We swarmed like polite piranhas. I took a quiche, a napkin, and a deep breath.

“So, theme,”

Karmen said, and chewed.

“We have options. Classic black-and-gold grad. Or, hear me out, Eden’s Actual Personality.”

Eden narrowed her eyes.

“Which is…”

“Books. Plants. That weird playlist you won’t admit is ninety percent sad girl bangers,”

Calla supplied sweetly.

“Hard pass on plants,”

Nikki said, and marked something.

“Half of you will steal the centerpieces and the other half will knock them over during the Electric Slide.”

“Fact,”

Raven said.

Alice waved a page.

“What about cowgrad?”

She blinked innocently when we stared.

“Black and white with gold accents. Cute cow-print balloons, diplomas with tiny horns. Adley, don’t make that face.”

“I didn’t make a face!”

I insisted.

“You made a face,”

Bell whispered, delighted.

“Cowgrad,”

Eden repeated slowly, like she was tasting a new word.

“If there are any inflatable udders, I’m leaving t-t-town.”

“No udders!”

Alice said as if that was crazy.

“This is high concept.”

Karmen scribble.

“COWGRAD (tasteful???)”

on the board and underlined the question marks three times.

“Games?”

Clove asked, and propped her chin on her fist.

“Cornhole obviously. Maybe we can borrow the giant Beer Pong from the Social Club?”

“We could do ‘Pin the Cap on the Graduate,’”

Calla offered.

Eden groaned.

“I’m not five.”

“Okay,”

Karmen said, totally unfazed.

“then scavenger hunt of Weston nostalgia. Polaroid cameras. Teams. First group back wins… a nacho fountain bath.”

“Denied,”

Carnie said, without looking up from her notes.

“No bathing in cheese.”

“Thank you,”

Nikki said, and wrote NO CHEESE BATHS in tiny letters at the bottom of the page like it was a law.

Junior, who had been silently enjoying the chaos with a glass of iced tea, cleared his throat.

“I will put the pool table away if you psychopaths try to use it as a buffet. Do not test me.”

“We would never,”

Raven said, offended. Then, after a beat, to Wren.

“Would we?”

Wren considered.

“We could make it work with chafing dishes if-.”

“No,”

Junior barked.

I caught myself glancing at a camera bubble and felt my shoulders notch up again.

“So we’re really recording… all of this?”

I didn’t know how they were all acting normal when I just couldn’t stop thinking about the cameras. I knew I would get used to them, but it wasn’t happening as quick as I had liked.

“They’re everywhere,”

Nikki confirmed.

“But honestly? Half the time I forget. It’s not like we have to wear mics or anything. Mac said the cameras pick up pretty much anything we say unless we whisper.”

“Fantastic.”

I aimed for dry and probably hit nervous.

“Love that for us.”

“Look.”

Alice leaned forward, eyes bright.

“We’ll ham it up a little where it’s fun. But we’re not putting your business out there. If they want drama, they can film Wrecker talking to Priscilla in the pasture again.”

Raven cackled.

“He apologized to that cow for stepping on clover. I would watch ten episodes of that.”

Bell bumped my shoulder.

“Don’t worry. The cameras don’t care about us. And if we do get one of the camera guys chasing us later, we’ll just throw pie at them.”

“Please don’t throw pie,”

Mayra said, and passed me a second quiche.

“But I support the sentiment.”

“Okay, assignments,”

Alice said, and snapped us back into order with kindergarten-teacher dominance.

“Me and Karmen: décor. No glitter.”

“Biodegradable glitter,”

Karmen countered.

“No glitter,”

Eden repeated, eyes like lasers.

“Fine,”

Karmen sighed.

“Metallic confetti in cow print.”

Eden opened her mouth. Closed it.

“We’ll… r-r-revisit that.”

“Carnie, Wren, Mayra: menu,”

Alice continued.

“Make it over the top delicious, but keep Fox away from the spice level. Last time he made us all cry into our empanadas.”

“Hydration station,”

Nikki said, and pointed to Karmen to write it down.

“Cucumber water, lemonade, and that hibiscus thing Eden likes. I can handle that.”

“Thank you,”

Eden said softly, and peeled the paper off her quiche like it was a delicious delicacy.

“Cora and Raven: seating plan,”

Alice said.

“Make it flow. Remember who can’t be near who.”

Raven cracked her knuckles.

“Ah, the delicate art of separating chaos vectors. Penny and Bay opposite corners?”

“Bay next to Carnie so she’s forced to eat a vegetable,”

Cora added.

“Bell and Clove,”

Alice pointed with the pen.

“games and favors. No glitter. No nacho bath.”

Bell deflated.

“You hate fun.”

“I love not having to mop fun off a ceiling,”

Alice said.

Mom chimed in, and squeezed my shoulder.

“We can handle the flowers.”

“Done,”

I said, trying not to picture myself on camera with a bouquet and reality-TV text under my name: ADLEY, Recently Deceased By Social Club Shift.

“Question,”

Eden said with her hand up like she was in class.

“Can we not have a t-t-throne? Last time a ‘guest of honor’ chair appeared, C-C-Cole zip-tied the person to it mid-speech.”

“Noted,”

Karmen said, and we all nodded because yes, that had absolutely happened.

A soft beep sounded from somewhere above, the cameras marking something, maybe. I caught myself tightening again, then a paper ball bounced off my shoulder. I turned to see Raven with her hands up in a mock-surrender pose.

“Camera therapy,”

she said.

“If you look too serious, we lose our brand.”

“What is our brand?” I asked.

“Unhinged but lovable,”

Cora said smoothly.

“‘Girl Gang: We Will Feed You And Be Crazy,’”

Wren added.

“‘No Glitter, No Cheese Baths, High Probability of Cows,’”

Bell sang.

“Put that on a shirt,”

Calla said.

“Already did,”

Karmen muttered, while writing it at the bottom of the flip chart like she was designing merch in real time.

A door clicked and Mac appeared in the hallway, headset dangling around her neck, and clipboard in hand. She clocked the quiche tray, the flip chart, and Alice’s growing pile of cow-print sketches.

“This is excellent,”

she said, voice full of producer-joy.

“Organic, fun, chaotic but safe,”

“Underline safe,”

Alice said, and pointed her pencil like a weapon.

“No filming at the farm without my say-so.”

Mac held up her hands.

“We hear you. We’re mostly town-side today anyway. This,”

she gestured at all of us “is gold.”

“Did you catch Wrecker apologizing to Priscilla yesterday?”

Raven asked.

Mac’s eyes went starry.

“We did. Twice.”

“Good,”

Alice said.

“Focus your zoom lens on that man. Leave the rest of us alone.”

Mac laughed and backed up.

“Carry on, Girl Gang.”

As soon as she disappeared, we all looked at each other and then burst into simultaneous, overlapping chatter like a flock of scandalous birds.

“Streamers or bunting?”

“Neither. Big ass bows.”

“We should have Thorn make a signature mocktail.”

“Clove, can you design a cute little map for the scavenger hunt?”

“Is the nacho fountain… really dead?”

“Yes, Bell.”

I forgot about the cameras. It happened slowly, like the way you forget a watch is on your wrist until you look at it. The jokes got louder, the plans sillier. Alice’s pen clicked like a metronome. Karmen’s flip chart evolved into a vision board with doodles. Carnie started a list title.

“Things Could End In Chaos That We Shouldn’t Do But Will Still Do,”

which of course made Eden laugh so hard she actually teared up.

At one point, Alice slapped a cow sticker onto my shoulder.

“You’re marked,”

she said solemnly.

“Can’t escape.”

“You’re all exhausting,”

I told them, and they all smiled like I’d said.

“I love you.”

We broke for a taste test of tiny spoons of something that might’ve been jalape?o honey and might’ve been witchcraft. Wrecker wandered in halfway through, blinked at the flip chart, and tried to back out. Alice caught him by the cut, dragged him into a kiss, then shoved a list into his hand.

“What’s this?”

he asked, wary.

“Things you’re doing,”

Alice said, and kissed him again as if that made it a favor.

“Tables. Chairs. Lights. And you’re apologizing to Priscilla on camera again.”

He sighed like a man who knew resistance was a theory.

“Yes, dear.”

“See?”

Raven stage-whispered.

“Star of the show.”

He pointed at her with the list.

“You’re all fired.”

“From what?”

Raven asked sweetly.

“Last time I checked, you’re not the boss of me, big brother?”

He grunted and retreated, list in hand, while muttering about cows having more sense than women with flip charts.

“Okay,”

Alice said, clapping once more.

“Quick recap. Theme: tasteful cowgrad,”

“Tasteful,”

Nikki repeated, deadly serious.

“With books and plants and Eden’s playlist of sad girl bops. Menu: Carnie-led heaven with a mac ‘n’ cheese bar, dessert table, and hydration station. Games: cornhole, scavenger hunt, no cheese baths. Décor: Big ass bows, no glitter. Flowers: Wendy and Adley. Setup: everyone with hands and a spine.”

“Any objections?”

Alice asked looking around like a judge.

“Just one,”

Bell said, raising her hand.

“What time are we getting Dairy Bar?”

“Now,”

Mom said, and smiled at me over the tops of everyone’s heads.

“Now is Dairy Bar.”

“Meeting adjourned,”

Karmen declared, and ripped the flip chart page off with a flourish and handing it to me like a diploma.

“Present this at Dairy Bar for one free sundae.”

“That is not how it works,”

I told her, but I rolled the paper up and felt… light. Like someone had swapped my bones for helium for just a second.

We filed out in a clatter of chairs and commentary. As we passed one of the camera domes, I glanced up and found my reflection faint in the curve of the plastic. I stuck my tongue out at it.

“Very mature,”

Alice said dryly but winked at me.

“It’s on brand for the Girl Gang,”

I said, and she didn’t disagree.