“You all heard Mr. Killough, right? He said I could go back to work. He says it’s okay.” I tugged free of Cillian, and the only reason it worked was probably because he was so busy fuming at Rowen.
Fallon scowled. “I don’t know. Sloan’s pretty confident in the Company.”
“So are ye, if anyone asks,” Rowen said to him quickly.
“Fuck that. Vail stays here,” Cillian snarled out and jabbed a finger at the floor.
“I’ll take a day or two off, but I am going back. And I’m meeting Mom.”
Rowen winced. “If there is anyone in town who doesn’t get the message along with the rest of the Giordanos, ye shouldn’t go to yer father’s funeral.”
Anger ate at me. Mr. Killough, who was supposed to be in charge of all of them, had said I could go back, and they still weren’t letting me. I swung away from them and stomped up the stairs, but then I crossed my arms and felt awful as I stood there. None of the rooms were mine. I had nowhere to go.
Downstairs I could hear Rowen and Cillian begin to bicker—about me, I was sure.
Fallon came up the stairs, and he smiled as he stopped near me, brushing back his long blond hair from his forehead. I skimmed my gaze down his body. The tight black shirt and leather pants molded perfectly to him. “You look really nice.”
“Oh yeah.” He tugged at his shirt and it made my stomach warm to see how it clung to all his muscles. “No one else told me that tonight. Thank you.” He took my hand and drew me along after him, stopping at a door I hadn’t been inside yet. “This is my room. We can talk and chill in here.”
“Talk about what? Are your knuckles cracked open? Were you fighting? Cillian usually wins when he and Rowen argue.” I picked up Fallon’s hand, but he only shrugged. His blood was definitely caked in the creases of his knuckles.
“You’ve noticed,” Fallon said with a laugh. He put his hand on my back and urged me into his room. Curiously I glanced around. This bedroom was smaller than Rowen’s and would probably be a squeeze for all of us, but it was peaceful. While Rowen’s room had a red and yellow theme, Fallon’s was blue and reminded me of the ocean, especially with the gray oak flooring. He even had a couple of prints of boat schematics hung on the wall.
He ran his fingers along the edge of my borrowed robe and gave it a little tug, drawing my attention back to his smiling face. “Listen, they’re set in their ways. They’re used to giving orders, even Rowen. If getting to your job is important to you, you have to push back. If Killough thinks it’s fine, it’s fine. He knows just about everything there is to know.”
I grinned and laughed, feeling the same way I had as a teenager when I used to geek out over research topics and dive into them headfirst. “He is so... well... cool. Did you see all those men with him?”
Fallon snorted. “Sick, right?” He kicked off his shoes before hopping to flop down on his bed with his hands behind his head. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything.”
“Mr. Killough told me that the story I heard is true.” I practically danced in place and went up on tiptoe. “True!”
Fallon laughed and held out an arm toward me. “Come here and tell me.”
I hesitated and glanced at the door. “Should I? I mean... we haven’t really talked about it....”
“You already slept with me twice.” He waggled his eyebrows. “We don’t have to do anything more than we did the night I held you. I liked that. I like being near you.”
He wriggled his fingers at me, and I walked over to him and climbed onto the bed. I got comfortable. “Well, so one day these Italians—they were bad Italians to Mr. Killough, I think—were causing trouble for him. Mr. Killough set out to let them know he was the boss.”
Fallon snickered. “I like this story already.” He rested his hand on my head, and I let him urge me down onto his hard shoulder as I snuggled in.
“I have a ton of them, stories that is. So anyway, he filled a huge duffel bag with bombs.”
“You should tell this story to Jamie Shannon if you ever meet him.” When I glanced up, his cheeks were puffed out like he was holding in a laugh.
The door creaked open and Aspen stuck his head in. “What’s going on?”
“Vail’s telling me a bedtime story,” Fallon said with a chuckle.
“Don’t stop. They’re busy going at each other’s throats.” Aspen came in, and I held my breath as he crossed the distance and sat on the bed next to me. My stomach fluttered as he stared down at me. The freckles on his cheeks made me want to touch them.
“What was I saying?” I asked Fallon.
“Bombs.”
“Oh yes.”
They both laughed.
