Falcon (Steel Demons MC #13)

Chapter One

Falcon

It’s late as fuck when I finally got out of Leather & Chrome, one of the clubs owned by my MC, the Steel Demons.

Usually I worked at Steel City Motors because it ain’t only the ladies who knew I was good with my hands, but tonight Diesel needed me on the club floor.

It’s one of the busiest places in Steel City and Spring Break meant there was a shit ton of drunk college kids and brand new twenty-one-year-olds on top of the usual clubgoers.

I kept my eyes on the place, looked suitably intimidating to make sure the drunk assholes didn’t go full asshole.

They didn’t, so it was a damn good night.

And a long-as-fuck night, too. My feet felt heavy as I crossed the parking lot to my bike and my head was a little fuzzy from a few too many shots, but the clubhouse was only a few minutes away. I took the back streets and made the short journey in record time.

When I walked in, it was dark and quiet, not unusual for this time of night, but it still felt fuckin’ odd.

I was used to the noise and the chaos of the clubhouse where there were always a few guys shooting pool or playing darts, maybe a game of poker or even dominoes.

The bar was dark and empty, no club whores to flirt with, which was probably a good thing because I was tired as fuck.

I stumbled down the dark hall to my bedroom.

After letting myself in I shut the door and kicked off my boots, before tossing my vest onto a chair in the corner of the room.

I smiled and face planted onto the bed, where sleep quickly claimed me.

I was too fucking exhausted to dream, and that quiet, black abyss was just what I needed.

Until the goddamn phone started to ring.

And ring.

I tried to ignore it. Tried to slip back into that deep sleep that would leave me refueled and energized for another day, but the fucking thing just kept ringing.

And ringing.

“Motherfucker,” I growled and reached blindly for the phone on the nightstand. “Yeah?” The word came out on a frustrated grunt.

The feminine voice that finally answered was soft, almost a whisper, but it was also familiar. “Falcon, is that you?” It was so fucking familiar I was sure I was still asleep and dreaming.

My eyes snapped open and my stomach dropped as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

I knew that voice well though I hadn’t heard it for three years.

I’d spent two straight weeks listening to her laugh and smile.

And come so many times it was burned into my mind like a fucking brand.

“Viv?” She’d been part of the two best, most erotic weeks of my life before she fucked off back to her rich doctor fiancé, leaving me as nothing more than a bad boy memory.

Or so I thought. “What’s wrong?” Clearly there was something wrong because why else would she be calling me?

She could try to remain calm all she wanted, it was what made her a damn good surgeon, but I heard that thread of something in her voice. It was unease or fear.

“I…” she began and then stopped. “I need your help. Please.”

It was that plea combined with the anguish in her voice that got to me. “Where are you?”

Vivian inhaled slowly and rattled off an address. “Please hurry, Falcon.” And with those three words, the call ended abruptly.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my heart pounding as I got to my feet.

My head was still fuzzy from lack of sleep, but I was still dressed so I shoved my feet back into my boots, grabbed my keys, and went back to my bike.

As the engine roared to life and I got on my way, I wondered what the hell had happened in her life that she needed me.

There was something beneath her clipped words that put me on edge, something she hadn’t shown me in the short time we spent together.

She’d been confident in her skills and her smarts, but she’d been sexually shy until I showed her another way.

But that vulnerable hitch in her breath beneath her surgical calm? That shit had my instincts on edge.

I arrived at the address she gave me, it was a gas station, one of the few in town that didn’t run twenty-four-seven.

I slowed cautiously, then parked up near the entrance.

The lights were off, the doors were locked, and the place looked abandoned.

My hand went to the gun at my side as I walked around the pumps and then the ice machine to find nobody around.

The air pump and tire pressure machines hummed idly but there was no one there either.

Fuck that. I pulled out my gun and went around the back, ready for what I had no fucking idea. But I was ready. I resisted the urge to call out to her just in case this was some fuckin’ trap. There were no cars parked aside from the green Chevy with an orange sticker on the windshield.

“Falcon,” she whispered behind me.

I spun but I still didn’t see her. A few steps forward and I spotted a small figure huddled into the covered entrance of the bathroom.

There was another small figure behind her, but I could hardly make them out because Vivian used her body as a shield.

“Vivian?” It was a small someone, I realized. No, not a small someone, a kid.

She moved slowly as she got to her feet, reaching behind her for the kid who wrapped both arms around her leg. “Falcon, you came.” The shock in her words was accompanied by a small, relieved smile.

I listened to what she was saying, but I couldn’t stop staring at the kid under the flickering fluorescent light of the bathroom.

He was three, maybe four years old with light brown hair and hazel eyes.

Just like mine. The wispy curls and the chin dimple could’ve been me when I was his age.

“Who’s this,” I asked casually even though I already thought I knew the answer.

Her smile faded for a quick second, but it returned, this time full force and filled with pride and love as she looked down at the kid and then to me. “I have a lot to explain but for starters, this is TJ.”

TJ. It could stand for anything. Hell I knew two guys named TJ and the letters didn’t stand for shit, but I knew that wasn’t the case here. “TJ.” It wasn’t a question, but Viv nodded anyway.

“Yeah, TJ.” She crouched down and put her hand on the kid’s back. “TJ, this is Travis, but his friends call him Falcon.” Some silent communication went on between them before the boy stepped forward and held his arms out to me as if he knew me.

Holy shit. “Hey,” I managed around the big fucking lump in my throat. My chest tightened with something I couldn’t name.

The boy’s arms stretched up in that universal kid speak for pick me up, dammit.

“I found out I was pregnant not long after I left,” she began in that low, professional tone she used when shit got too real. Each word was carefully chosen, controlled in both tone and volume.

Before she could say anything else, tires squealed in the distance and then gunfire split the night air.

“Get down,” I shouted and picked up the kid with my free hand. “Come on, Viv. The bike.”

She took one step and froze, turning to me with wide eyes full of fear. “I can’t,” she shook her head. “TJ is just two, that’s too young. I just… can’t.”

“You can,” I barked. “And you will. Now.”

She was still frozen in shock, which confused the fuck out of me. This fragile creature wasn’t the Vivian Grant I knew.

“You called me because you needed my help,” I reminded her. “Listen to me. Bike. Now.”

She nodded absently before she took TJ from my arms, wrapping him tight in her embrace. “Keep your eyes closed as tight as you can, baby. No matter what, okay sweetie?”

“Okay, Mama.” His voice was small and sweet, shot through with a fear that split my chest in two.

She turned her gaze to me, full of trust, and nodded. “Bike?”

I nodded to the spot where the bike rested in front of the gas station doors. “Stay close. Move fast.”

“Okay.” That was all she said but she followed orders like a pro. “Keep your arms and legs around me TJ, really tight like a spider monkey.”

He nodded and did what he was told, which was fucking impressive. The clubhouse was filled with kids these days and none of them listened that well. I started my bike, aware that there was a fucking kid sandwiched between me and Vivian, as we hit the highway with a black car hot on our asses.

Bullets rang out, pinging off the asphalt all around us.

Whoever the fuck this was, they meant business.

The only reason we hadn’t been hit—yet—was because I rode like a maniac, evading their efforts as best I could.

I spun to the side and aimed my gun at the windshield, shattering it with one shot.

The car skidded and briefly lost control, giving me time to push the gas and put more distance between us.

The gravity of this situation sat heavy on my chest. A kid on my bike.

A kid who was very likely my son with a woman who left me without looking back for someone better.

I should be fucking pissed right now, that she sprang a kid on me and it now fell to me to keep them both safe.

Hell, I was fucking pissed that she hid him from me, but right now all I could focus on was keeping them safe.

Both of them.

My anger could wait until we were safe. The clubhouse was still a few miles away and the black car had managed to right itself before it caught up with us.

Someone hung out the window behind the driver, firing bullets nonstop at us.

I knew our luck wouldn’t hold out forever, so I held the bike straight while I shot behind me and hoped for a goddamn miracle.

In the mirror I saw the asshole’s head fly back before his body went limp.

One down, at least one more to go.

I spotted the clubhouse and accelerated down the block and into the parking lot.

We were almost home free and then another shot rang out.

The back of the bike wobbled a second or two before we went down.

“Fuck!” I shouted and quickly got to my feet, turning to find Viv flat on her back with TJ cushioned from the asphalt. Jesus, fuck, woman.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, holding the boy out to me. “Really, I am. Get TJ inside,” she ordered in her doctor voice.

The boy went to me easily, wrapping his arms around my neck with total trust. I watched Viv slowly get to her feet, trying to suppress a wince as she did. “Come on. Inside, now.”

The clubhouse door opened quickly and Rocky appeared first, and then Maverick. “What the fuck was that?” Rocky asked, his dark brows twisted into a scowl.

“Don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Assholes with guns.”

“Russian mobsters.” Vivian’s answer was calm and sedate, her voice was dead even. There was no sign the words terrified her except the trembling hands she didn’t know what to do with.

Rocky blinked at her words before his gaze swung to me. “Fuck. Lockdown. Now.”