Page 1 of Nave
CHAPTER ONE
Nave
I was still rubbing sleep out of my eyes as I made my way toward the kitchen, stopping short when I caught Fallon and Brooks talking in the darkened common room, voices low.
“Is this an ‘I need to turn around and grab my gun’ thing, or can I get coffee first?” I asked.
Both men turned toward me, Fallon wearing his trademark smirk, Brooks’s face as unreadable as ever.
“For once, shit is calm,” Fallon said.
“Shit, man. Now you fucking jinxed it.” Outside, explaining why it was still dark at six in the morning, thunder rolled hard enough for the ground to vibrate under my feet. “Ha. Yeah, that’s not a bad omen or anything.”
“We’re just discussing prospects.”
“More? Thought we were waiting for the next set of legacies.”
“We got word of some up-and-comers in the area,” Fallon explained. “We were discussing if it might be smart to snatch them up if we can before the Vultures take them. Or even Cian O’Donovan.”
“Is Cian recruiting? Don’t they need to be Irish to be in the Irish mob?”
“We don’t know as much about the Irish mob around here to know if they hire associates outside of the family or not,” Brooks explained. “But if they do, these guys we have in mind would be at the top of his list.”
I had to admit, since taking over for my Uncle Reign, Fallon had been busting his ass trying to expand not only our main mother chapter but also grow out to sister chapters as well. He was still as picky as his old man had been about who was allowed to get a patch. But it seemed like Fallon was taking his legacy and reputation seriously.
“Are you gonna invite them to an open house?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
“Seems to be the best way to get everyone’s opinions on them.”
“Alright, well tell me…” I trailed off as the door flew open, revealing a walking wall covered in a poncho that was raining down all over the floor.
“Perish, the fuck you doing outside in this?” Fallon asked, waving toward where the rain was pelting against the windows.
“Haven’t had rain in a few weeks. And we’re under a water restriction. Had to put some fertilizer down.” He reached to whip off the soaked poncho.
“You’re practically as tall as the trees,” I reminded him. “You’re a lightning rod out there.”
“All gonna die someday.” He shrugged as he balled up his poncho.
“Right. But I waited a long time for your ass to come off probation. So I’d rather you not go down because you’re obsessed with the fucking lawn,” Fallon said.
“It is looking good this year, though,” I said, shrugging. We all had our hobbies. At least this was harmless. Or, if not harmless (judging by Billie’s nonstop lectures about ‘rewilding’ the lawn for the native pollinators), at least not harmful. Andwith a guy like Perish, who leaned toward violent and impulsive, it was good to have some mundane obsession to keep him occupied.
“Fucking grubs almost got us,” Perish agreed, following me into the kitchen.
I forced my lips into a straight line at that, knowing not a single other member of the club—least of all me—cared about the lawn.
“Then the grubs bring the fucking skunks to claw up the lawn. Had to sit outside all night for two weeks to scare the fucker off.”
Well, that explained why Voss’s dog, Nitro, got skunked twice over the summer. The poor fuck still had a bit of a smell when he got warm or wet.
“So what was that about?” he asked, nodding toward the common room.
“New prospects.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.”
