Page 2 of Philly
Mantis shot a quick glance at his brother—how the club members referred to one another—before returning his attention to her. “Another time, Callie. Stop by tomorrow. We’ll be wrapping up a meeting around ten. You can grab him then.”
“Is he unable to speak for himself?” she snapped, instantly regretting the loss of control.
Every member of the Falcon’s Rest club squared up and faced her head-on. Lina, a former CIA operative, slid her a disappointed look from under Gabriel’s arm.
Acid churned in her stomach at the reminder that this group was a family—a tight-knit, protective family. Something she once thought she’d had. Time, and experience, had stripped away the layers of civilized veneer, though, and she’d discovered it had been nothing more than a facade. And a conditional one at that.
Refusing to let her mind linger on the powerful and unique thing Gabriel and the other men had built for themselves, she gave a sharp nod. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Forcing herself to look one more time, she turned to Gabriel. “I’ll expect to speak to you then,” she added before turning on her heel and walking back through the door. She didn’t stop until she climbed into her car.
As soon as the door closed, her bravado leached away, and her shoulders dropped. She let her head fall against the seat, the car’s heat seeping through her suit and warming her skin. A beat later, she snorted.Get in, get the information, get out. Yeah, right.
Karma had knocked on her door two months ago when she’d first encountered Gabriel after nearly twenty years of living separate lives. Callie should have guessed then that the Fates wouldn’t do her a solid and go silently into that good night. She should have understood then that nothing about dealing with the Falcons—or Gabriel—would be easy.
She exhaled and pushed the ignition button.
The worst part was, whatever they cared to dish out, she deserved.
2
Philly lingered after the end of the club’s weekly meeting, his brothers gone to take care of business. Picking up the bag of stuffed animals, the big eyes and the exaggerated eyelashes of a green dragon peeking out at him, he smiled. Although, now that he thought about it, did dragons even have eyelashes? And if they didn’t, the ones on the stuffie would be fictional rather than exaggerated, right?
He’d have to google that shit later. For now, he’d put the donations in the storage closet and hope that someday the stuffies would mark the start of a better life for a kid who deserved more than what they’d been dealt.
“You okay?” Mantis asked, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
“Aren’t you headed out to the Fir Tree Lane property to inspect the water heater?” Philly countered.
“Funny how I can do two things in one day—check a water heater and check on you.”
Philly rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”
Mantis eyed him. “You have any idea what she wants?”
Two months ago, Callie Parks had burst back into his life, helping Stone and Juliana stop a murder. Three weeks ago, she stopped by to speak with him about an old case. She’d ended up setting aside her own agenda—and questions—to help them figure out who’d killed Lina’s father and why. They hadn’t talked since her FBI team closed that case two weeks ago.
Philly set his hand on the dragon and leaned against the table. “None.”
“You need anything? Want anyone to stick around?”
He considered the offer. Fifteen years ago, he would have told Mantis to fuck off, that he didn’t need a babysitter. But he wasn’t that scared, angry, volatile kid anymore. He had a family now, a healthy, sometimes-unruly-but-always-solid family.
He shook his head. “Thanks, but I got it. If I can help her, I will.”
The corners of Mantis’s mouth ticked up. “Then she can be on her merry way?”
Philly inclined his head and shrugged. He tried to smile, but while his lips moved, it probably came out more of a grimace.
“You know we’re here—all of us—if you need anything.”
Philly swallowed and nodded. His brothers knew everything about him—they knew about the shithole he’d grown up in, they knew how he coped under pressure, they knew his favorite brand of boxers and why he hated pineapple. They even knew his fear of roly-poly bugs. But they didn’t know about Callie. And they were an observant bunch of lovable bastards. The fact that he’d never mentioned the woman before was a big red flag for every single one of them.
“Thanks,” he said.
Mantis studied him, then nodded and pushed off the door. “She’s in the lodge room. Dottie set her up with coffee and a piece of coffee cake.”
He nodded again. “I’ll put these away,” he said, lifting the bag of stuffed animals.
“I’ll take it,” Mantis said, holding out his hand. “I’ve got to check the inventory anyway before heading to Fir Tree Lane. I’m going to stop by Rita C’s to check inventory there, too,” he said, referring to the bar the club owned. “Go get it over with.” He jerked his head toward the lodge room. “Then go for a run or do whatever you need.”
