We both knew we would have to let the club in on shit eventually. And if Valen was in trouble, time was of the essence.
“Is Fallon around?” I asked. “We think Valen is in trouble.”
“Someone’s in trouble. Sounds about right,” Dezi said, nodding as he reached for his phone. “But, whatareyour feelings on mini goats?” he asked.
“What?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Mini goats. What are your feelings on them? Or are mini pigs better?”
“Better for what?” Voss asked, as lost as I was.
“Dezi, Valen is missing, we can’t be talking about farm animals right now,” I said, pushing past him and going toward the common room. “Is Fallon on his way in?”
“Yeah,” Dezi said, following us out.
“I should… should I call his dad?” I asked a couple of tense moments later, looking at Voss. “Or Vi?” I added, hearing Fallon’s bike rolling into the lot.
“You,” he said as he came in, looking at Voss. “We’re going to have some words,” he said, face hard. “I don’t believe for a fucking minute you didn’t know shit was going on with him. And you didn’t come to me until it was too late?”
“It’s not too late,” I insisted, tone raising.
“It’s too late to handle it before it escalated, though, isn’t it?” he asked, turning that hard look at me, and for a moment, he really looked like his father. “Did you know something was up too?”
“Yes,” I said, not caring if he was pissed off.
“And you didn’t come to me with it?”
“In their defense, Fal,” Brooks said, seeming to appear out of nowhere, “I suspected something too.”
“The fuck, Brooks?” Fallon asked. “You never give anyone slack.”
“And I never will again,” Brooks agreed. “Made a bad judgment call.”
“Um, does this really matter right now? Valen is missing,” I reminded them.
“We don’t know he’s missing,” Fallon insisted.
“Um, the fuck we don’t,” I shot back.
“He’s not here right now. That doesn’t mean he’s missing. He could be out at the bar. Or went home with some chick.”
“I just came from the bar,” I snapped. At his raised brow look, the next part just burst out of me. “And he just fucked me, so I doubt he has recovered enough yet to head out with another chick.”
Brooks let out a low whistle and turned away, walking back toward the kitchen, sensing the powder keg that was my entire being right that moment.
“Never thought it would be necessary to say that prospects don’t get to fuck around with each other,” Fallon said. “But prospects don’t get to fuck around with each other.”
“Excuse me but presidents who fuck the enemy who kidnapped their father don’t get to take the moral high ground,” I hissed.
“Careful.”
“Do something,” I shot back.
“Lu, there is no way for any of us to know that Valen is in danger right now.”
“Read his fucking texts,” I demanded, shoving the phone at him.
“He left his phone?” Fallon asked, curiosity clearly piqued. Finally.