Fallen Crest Home(42)

He pushed me farther away, far enough so we could talk without Quinn overhearing. “Stop it. I know you’re feeling guilty right now, but it’s whatever. You are who you are. Sam knew that before she fell in love with you.”

“But Taylor…”

“And Taylor knew who Logan was before she fell for him, too.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You guys don’t like to get pushed around. It is what it is. Don’t let some asshole like Quinn get in your head. He might not put his girl in danger, but you know what he does do? He cheats. He’s not this perfect do-gooder like he’s acting. He’s just another slick business guy like his dad, and some of those guys cheat on their wives. He’s going to hurt his woman in ways that Sam will never even think about. He went after Sam for upsetting Becky. He got involved in girl business. You wouldn’t do that.”

“I got involved when Kate was going after Sam.”

“Because that was your ex targeting your woman. Not the same thing. He doesn’t have a relationship with Sam. They aren’t even friends.”

I sighed. “I just want to find Caldron and beat the shit out of him.”

“But you’re not going to.” Nate’s words were a statement, with just a hint of question.

“No,” I told him. “We’re going to ask around, find out where he works and lives, and go from there.”

“Then let’s do that.”

“I was planning on heading to Channing’s bar before Quinn pissed me off.”

“Get used to it. I assumed you brought him with to try to get close to him?”

I nodded. “I could’ve told him to get lost, but yeah.”

“You’re not thinking of being friends with him, are you?”

“No, but if he’s around us, he’ll relax. We can get a better window into how he really is.” A guy shows you his real self when you push him out of his comfort zone. Nate was still looking at me weird. “What?”

“What if it doesn’t work? What if we actually have to pretend to be friends with him?”

I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Then it’s your turn up to bat. There’s no way in hell he’ll buy that Logan or I suddenly want to be friends with him.”

“What about Matteo?”

“He won’t be here long enough, and the less dirt I can put on his hands, the better.” We watched the two. Matteo still had Quinn blocked and up against my Escalade. Quinn stuffed his hands in his pockets and glared at me.

Nate shuddered. “Let’s just find something at that cabin. I don’t want to have to go through that.”

“Come on.” We were only a block away. Locking my Escalade with the push of a button, I called, “Our first stop’s just over there. Follow us.”





Channing’s bar was dark inside, lit with neon signs. Swanky and dirty somehow described the interior, and also the few guys bellied up to the bar. We’d passed some Harleys in the parking lot, but I already knew Channing’s bar had become a biker bar, so I wasn’t surprised to see the leather on each guy—top of the line stuff. They turned to watch us. I couldn’t blame them. We didn’t look much like them, with our preppy clothes, but they didn’t scare me.

I nodded to the bartender. “Channing here?”

She scanned us, her top lip curving in a sneer. “Who’s asking?”

But Channing had already heard me. He came to his opened office door, which was set off to the side of the bar counter. “Ka—” He began, then seemed to remember who was in his bar and corrected himself. “Mason! What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?” I pointed to his office.

“Sure. Yeah.” He turned to the bartender. “Ang, can you get the rest of the guys whatever they want? On the house.”

Surprise lit her face. “Sure thing.”

I followed him back into his office and leaned against the far wall as he closed the door. I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a finger, hitting the switch on a large fan set in the corner. When the sound filled the room, I sat down in one of the chairs across from his desk. “So you don’t just use that when it gets hot in here?”

He shook his head, taking his seat. “Those guys aren’t dumb out there. If they hear something that could help their club, they’ll use it.”

“They’re one-percenters?” I didn’t mean the kind my dad was.

“Yeah.”

“Good to know.” They were the one percent of motorcycle clubs that did illegal shit.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. “What are you doing here?”