Page 30 of Falcon

“I know and I love you for it.”

“But, even saying that, I think you need to enjoy yourself and this. You deserve it more than anyone else I know. I mean that.”

“Thank you for saying that.” I pick at the imaginary lint on my shorts before tracing the edges of my tattoo.

“Well, it’s true.”

We spend the next few minutes with general chitchat before hanging up with a promise of lunch tomorrow.

Rose was one of the first friends I made in Savannah, outside of Case, of course. She came in because she wanted to file a police report. Her boyfriend had been roughing her up a little, and she was done taking it.

The woman who walked into the police station that day and the woman I now call my best friend are two different human beings.

One was a terrified young woman at the end of her rope.

The other is a strong, independent badass who I just dare anyone to cross.

We grew close instantly and I told her my history. She held me while I cried. I did the same for her when she told me hers. It was a cathartic experience that brought us closer together than I could have ever imagined.

I climb from my bed and head into the bathroom to wash my face and settle in for the evening, all the while letting my mind wander to tattooed fighters who ride motorcycles and have the kindest hearts.

Falcon

Faith Morgan is a conundrum in many ways. She’s so guarded and I can see walls a mile high stacked all around her, but then I get her on my bike, and she soars free like a bird in the open sky.

She’s stunningly attractive with a body I would give my left arm to have tucked underneath me, writhing and moaning, but I also want to just talk to her. I want to hear what she has to say and how she sees the world.

She’s the total fucking package, and now, as I climb the front steps to my sister’s home after saying goodnight to Faith at her door, I’m left with only one conclusion.

There must be a catch somewhere.

Before I can even lift my hand to push the front door open, the handle moves and the door flings backward and my sister appears.

“Hurry the hell up. I have questions and need answers. You’re taking all night to come inside and it’s annoying.”

She reaches forward, grabs the fabric of my shirt, and basically yanks me inside, slamming the door behind me.

“Fuck, Nor! You can’t just go yanking people around like that,” I say, adjusting my shirt.

“You’re my brother. It’s my job to yank you around now and then.” She plops down to sit on the couch. “Case is upstairs in the shower. You have about fifteen minutes to tell me everything before he comes down to give you the third degree too. Now, spill.”

“Aren’t we a little old for this?” I sit on the chair on the opposite side of the room, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees.

“Faith is my friend, you’re my brother. I’m doubly connected to this,” she says, as if that’s supposed to justify it all.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. We went out, had dinner, had ice cream, and came home. It’s that simple.”

She narrows her eyes at me a bit. “It’s never that simple with you. You’re known around Southern California as a whole for your one-night stand prowess.”

I place my hand over my heart. “Is that all I’m known for? I figured it would be the size of my huge…”

“NO!” she shouts then covers her ears. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Do not even go there, Marco Masen. I’ll murder you after I bleach my brain.”

I toss back my head and laugh. “I was going to say philanthropic heart, but now that you mention it…”

“Stop right there, I mean it.” She shakes her head.

“Look, Nora, Faith is a nice girl. We had a lot of fun together, and I’d like to see her again before I leave.”

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