Christmas With The Brotherhood: A Novella of the SHMC (The Sacred Brotherhood) Page 2

  “Zander!” my mother snapped, and I sighed, hanging my head.

  “I’m sorry, but don’t you dare get mad at Slice! I begged him to help me go look. He went into the bars while I stayed on the sidewalk.”

  “Jesus, fuck.” My dad put his hands on his hips and shook his head, looking from me to Slice and back to me again. “Get your asses in here and sit down. Babe, make them something hot to drink and tell me what the fuck is going on with our boy.”

  “That’s more like it,” my mother muttered, but all the same, she went into the kitchen – more than likely to fix Slice and me some hot chocolate.

  “At least she’s out running around with you,” my dad rumbled, and Slice and I frowned practically in unison.

  “Not sure what you’re implying there, bro,” Slice declared.

  “Me either,” I said darkly.

  “Which is just the way I fuckin’ like it.” He shot us both a shit-eating grin as he took a seat himself.

  “Zander!” My mother stood up from where she was getting a pot out of the bottom cupboard and rolled her eyes at my dad. I smiled at her and she winked at me as soon as Dad wasn’t looking.

  “Seriously. Sit down,” he ordered and even went so far as to kick the chair across from him out from under the table. I swallowed hard. My dad never hit me or Dante, but he sure had the occasion to yell – mostly at my brother – and Uncle Reaver had patched more than a few holes in the drywall.

  I hated it when my daddy got that mad. It genuinely scared the hell out of me. I was glad he didn’t do it very often, but I never really could tell what would set him off. Sometimes it was something big, but a few times, it hadn’t been. Still, like I said, he’d never laid a hand on us kids or our mom. Although, it scared my mom hardcore when he got mad, too. I guess because grandpa used to hit her.

  I’d only found that out recently and it broke my heart because grandpa loved us kids so much. I mean, I would have never guessed.

  “First things first.” My dad fixed his dark eyes on me and I bit my bottom lip. “My house, my rules, kid. What time are you supposed to be home?” He raised his eyebrows, and I felt my shoulders drop.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But Sage—”

  “Is a grown-ass man and doesn’t need your coddling.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his bulk as he crossed his heavily tattooed arms over his black tee, which strained over his shoulders and arms.

  I sniffed and my mom came around and set a cup of hot chocolate in front of me.

  “We were worried about you,” she said gently and touched the back of my shoulder.

  “So worried, you didn’t text?” I asked, sullenly.

  “Hey!” my dad barked sharply, and I jumped slightly. My mistake. If it was one thing my dad didn’t go for it was even the slightest perception of disrespect toward my mother.

  “Zander,” my mom said gently. “She has a valid point.”

  My dad shifted in his seat and sighed.

  “Take your hot chocolate and go to your room,” my dad said tiredly.

  “Dad!” I cried. “I’m eighteen! Not some—”

  “My house, my rules! I want to talk to Slice, so go to your room!”

  “But Slice was going to tell me—”

  “Room! Now!”

  My mom and I jumped practically in unison and she swept over, depositing a mug in front of Slice before nudging me to my feet and thrusting mine into my hands.

  “Go,” she urged gently. “Or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

  I went, for her sake, so there would be no more shouting, feeling a little broken and a lot dejected inside. Slice was supposed to tell me when Sage texted!

  I shut my bedroom door and pulled my purse over my head, hanging it on the set of hooks that were held by a bracket that went over the door. I set my mug on the bedside table and my thick scarf and winter jacket followed my purse onto the hooks.

  I sulked, changed into my pajamas, and sulked some more. Wasn’t long until my worry had me in knots and I started to cry softly into my cocoa.

  I sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of a slip of paper sliding under my door. I went for it and opened it.

  He’s fine, he’s at the club.

  It was signed with a cursive ‘S’ that looked like a jagged slice on the page.

  I sniffed and smiled, folding the paper into quarters and depositing it in my wastebasket by my bed.

  At least I would sleep tonight.

  3

  Sage…

  The day was crisp, cold, the sky clear. We were taking a ride as a club and I was toward the back of the pack. I smiled and bumped fists with Slice next to me as we made our way around a bend, climbing into the hills.

  Shouts, the scream of metal, sparks spraying across the ground far ahead of us, the whine down of engines as the rest of us downshifted and watched in horror as two riders slid across the asphalt. One slammed hard up against the fuckin’ guardrail. We pulled over, a lot of us just stopping and dismounting.

  The confusion, the horror, the anguish in my chest erupting as a masculine scream rent the air.

  “Nooooo!” I sat up in bed, in my club room, chest heaving, pressing fingertips into my eye sockets, scrubbing sleep and the nightmare’s imagery out of them. But there was only so much I could do on that front.

  I sat in my bed, in the dark, chest heaving, dewed with sweat, jumping as the heater kicked on and sighed.

  I flopped back and stared at the deep blue shadows along the ceiling from the high window, willing my heart rate to slow its ass down.

  Think of something pleasant, something positive, I thought to myself – a suggestion Reaver had made when the subject of my nightmares had come up one night.

  Except I didn’t have anything, I didn’t think I wanted anything.

  I couldn’t fathom loving someone, anything more than life itself. Feelings that ran that deep scared the fucking shit out of me… and so I didn’t. I kept myself to myself and that was that.

  I heaved a sigh and closed my eyes, the image of soulful deep brown eyes framed in copper curls coming unbidden to my mind. Of Eden’s face, stricken with such worry, the flood of relief that smoothed her pale features into something almost… angelic.

  I opened my eyes to banish the image. I was almost fuckin’ thirty. She was barely eighteen – it was never going to happen.

  Never say never, little brother…

  I sat up.

  “Maren?”

  I listened sharply, ears straining to hear her again, but all there was, was the sharp patter of snowflakes and ice pellets against the high window.

  I was alone.

  I needed to stay that way.

  4

  Eden…

  “Did your dad freak out? I bet he totally freaked out at you,” my best friend, Harmony, said. She was only a year younger than me and was the eldest daughter of Ghost and Shelly. Shelly happened to be Reaver’s younger cousin, and it got a little ridiculous sometimes how intertwined club and family could get with them.

  “Yeah, he freaked out,” I said with an exasperated noise. Harmony laughed.

  “You totally brought that one on yourself, you know.”

  “I know, but what else was I supposed to do?” I cried. “I was worried about Sage. You didn’t see the look on his face when he left the media room.”

  “Of course, I didn’t; I was babysitting… again.” I could practically hear my best friend’s eyes rolling over my phone.

  “The curse of being the oldest,” I said dryly. I’d put in more than my fair share in the past with my brother and with Harmony’s younger siblings. She was seventeen to my eighteen and was dying for some freedom. Probably just so it would be easier to keep hooking up with my younger brother, Dante. I shuddered. She didn’t know that I knew and if my mom and dad found out? Dante was so fucked and not in a good way.

  It might be the thing that finally pushed my dad over the edge into whooping my little brot
her’s ass. Lord knew Dante needed it sometimes!

  Still, just thinking about him with my best friend? Gross. I didn’t care if they were the exact same age. When it came to all us club kids? I don’t know, it’s like doing your cousin or something.

  Ew.

  Except Sage. Sage was different, and it wasn’t just the age gap.

  “So, you guys found him. Then what?”

  “Then nothing. He went back to the club, and Slice brought me home.”

  She sighed and said, “You know, if I had to pick between Slice and Dice, I’d pick Slice every time.”

  “Harmony, that’s gross! Slice is your cousin!”

  “Oh, my God! Not for me! For you! Dice is just so damn… broody all the time.”

  “Uh, yeah, of course he is… he’s been through more than his fair share.”

  “Haven’t we all?” she asked.

  I scoffed in disbelief. “No, Harmony. Not like that. Not like Smoke.”

  She sighed and said, “Yeah, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking when I said that. I guess… I guess I’m just jealous and a little afraid.”

  “Jealous of what?”

  “I mean, you’re my best friend, and I already feel like I don’t see that much of you anymore. This year is a total drag at school.”

  “It’s your senior year,” I protested. “You should be living it up!”

  “It’s just not the same without you.”

  Silence stretched over the airwaves and I flopped onto my back in the middle of my bed and sighed.

  “I know,” I said. “I miss you, too.”

  “Augh, I can’t wait for Christmas break!” she cried, and I smiled.

  “Me either. I can’t wait to do Twisted Christmas Movie night tonight.”

  “Me either,” she said, then added slyly. “You going to be able to keep your eyes on the screen and off of Dice?”

  “Probably not,” I admitted, and we both fell into squeals and peals of laughter.

  Harmony suddenly gasped on the other end and then shouted, “Oh my God, Ranger! You fucking little turd!” I heard a smack and her twelve-year-old youngest brother yelled, “Ow” and then wailed, “Moooooom!”

  “Whelp, I’d better go,” Harmony said, sourly.

  “Have fun with that,” I declared.

  She said, “See you tonight!” and the phone gave the disconnect tone in my ear.

  “Ugh,” I groaned and heaved a big sigh. As annoying as my own little brother could be sometimes, he was seventeen and had, for the most part, grown out of that phase.

  A knock fell at my bedroom door and I sighed, knowing the signature sound for what it was…

  Speak of the devil, I thought, and on the heels of that thought, the realization that the irony of our names still held true.

  Dante poked his shaggy dark head into my room and looked at me with our mother’s eyes. I’d gotten the opposite coloration. Mom’s wild red curls and Dad’s deep brown eyes.

  “Can I have the car?” he asked.

  “You mean my car?” I shot back. I mean, Dante had wrecked his, and I paid for everything when it came to mine by working at one of Aunt Evy’s coffee stands.

  “Whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Can I borrow it?”

  “No,” I said, pushing myself up into a sitting position. “It’s Twisted Christmas Movie Night.”

  “I would come back and get you.”

  “No way. I don’t want to be late, but I’ll give you a ride to wherever it is you want to stop. Where you going?”

  “Ugh, fuck, never mind!” He disappeared from my doorway and went down the hall, and I smirked.

  To pick up Harmony early? I thought to myself. Sorry, not sorry, little brother. I am so not helping you bone my best friend.

  I got up and gave a luxurious stretch before I poked around my room to find a cozy yet flattering outfit for tonight. It was a fine balance, let me tell you. I mean, for the most part, this was for the older kids and the guys who were still big kids no matter what their age. The only person I would really be out to impress was Sage. I definitely didn’t want to give any of the boys my age the wrong idea, and likewise, I didn’t want any of my uncles giving me shit or making fun of me for overdoing things.

  Sometimes, being the daughter of a club brother and the oldest girl out of all of us kids was a pain in the ass. I mean, I wasn’t like club royalty like a club princess or anything – if anybody held a title it would be Dray and Evy’s boy – Stephen. The rest of us kids joked he was the crown prince of the Sacred Hearts and he hated it, but it wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. Although, Dray and Ev never treated him any differently than the rest of us.

  The problem was getting any of the ‘adults’ in the club to stop seeing me as a six-year-old in a fairy princess dress and to get them to start seeing me for the adult that I am. None of the boys had half the problem with that shit as us girls did… but then again, the MC life did have its inherent misogynistic ways to it. Likewise, it certainly had its feminist ways. Just about every single woman of the SHMC had no problem taking their men to task for their bullshit when they decided to lay it on too thick.

  I’d seen my mom turn on my dad more than once and let’s not even talk about when Aunt Evy went off – or worse, Aunt Shelly.

  Aunt Shelly was fearless. I’d watched her go toe to toe with my dad when he was so worked up, he had that vein popping out of his forehead and his neck went all red like he was really about to blow his stack.

  It’d been such a mix of awe-inspiring and terrifying, I can’t even tell you.

  I’d only seen my dad get like that once, and that was when a group of older girls were bullying me at school and he’d tried to talk to the ringleader’s dad. Her dad had mouthed off, and it pissed my dad off. My dad had tried to be reasonable, but this other girl’s dad? He was a real jerk. My dad had whooped her dad’s ass so bad in front of us kids, no one had ever picked on me again. Unfortunately, it’d caused a big ol’ mess here at home when my dad got arrested by the police and they’d had to call my mom to leave Soul Fuel to come get me and Dante from school.

  We’d had to go through all kinds of garbage interviews and check-ins with CPS to make sure my dad wasn’t beating us. But like I said – he was never like that at home. He’d yell and whatnot, had put a hole or two in some sheetrock, but he would never ever lay a hand on any of us.

  “Where you going?” he demanded, setting down his papers from Open Road Ink and looking over his reading glasses at me.

  “The club,” I answered with a shrug.

  “To pester Smoke?” he demanded with an arched eyebrow.

  I rolled my eyes and said, “Twisted Christmas?”

  He frowned.

  “Oh, shit. Is that tonight?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Take your brother with you so I can fuck your mother in peace,” he said, looking back down at his drawing and frowning as he refocused in on what he should be doing.

  “Dad!” I cried, horrified. “Gross.”

  “How the fuck you think you and Dante got here?” he demanded.

  “Whatever, still don’t want to hear about it!” He smirked, and I called out, “Dante! I’m leaving! Come on!”

  “If it gets too bad out there, stay at the clubhouse. Use my room.”

  “Key?” I asked.

  He grunted and detached his ring of keys from his belt loop. He had a special ring on there with just his club room key that he detached from the rest and tossed it in my direction. Dante’s hand appeared in front of me and snatched it from the air.

  “Got it,” my brother said and gave me a reckless grin.

  I rolled my eyes at him and said, “Come on, let’s go.”

  “I’m driving.”

  “The fuck you are!” my dad called out as we left the house.

  I bit down on a giggle and said, “What Dad said.”

  “Fuck,” Dante muttered.

  “Shouldn’t have wrecked your car!” my dad yelled as my brother
crowded out behind me and shut the front door on him.

  “It wasn’t my fault!” he muttered, and I felt just a little bit bad for him. It really hadn’t been entirely his fault.

  “You think that’s bad?” I asked. “Wait until you prospect.”

  “Who says I wanna?” I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around to look at Dante. He started laughing at me.

  “The look on your face! That’s great!”

  “You little turd!” I cried, punching him lightly in the arm. He grinned and nodded his head. He was taller like Mom, but he was going to be huge when he finished growing. His arms long and lanky, his growing pains, when he had them, atrocious.

  “So I can’t drive?” he asked, and I shook my head, looking up.

  “Not even sure if we’re going to make it up into the club’s driveway. We might be parking on the side of the highway.”

  I unlocked my car, and he opened up the passenger door and said over the snow-covered roof of my car, “Get in and get it warmed up; I’ll scrape. I’m sure the prospects were out there and shoveled, laid down deicer.”

  “I hope so!”

  I got in and started my car, shivering as Dante made good and cleared off my windows and the roof of my car. He was buttering me up for something, I just didn’t know what.

  The drive to the club was done with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel the whole way. Even Dante-the-Fearless was nervous beside me, but neither one of us wanted to miss out on Twisted Christmas Movie Night.

  It was way too much fun.

  We usually stayed up way too late, crashed at the club, then drove out to the Christmas tree farm the next morning to pick the club’s trees. We had two. One in the common room and one in the media room.

  We would spend all day the next day decorating them and had a big dinner that evening. It was a tradition started mostly for us kids, and it had endured. I loved every minute of it. It was one of those things that bound us, that made the club our family as much as the bonds of blood did. It was our club Christmas, so that when the actual holiday rolled around in a couple of weeks, we could spend it with our blood families cozy in our homes.