Selah’s Wish (Imperial Knights MC #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Selah

It’s been a year since all hell broke loose and we ended up lacing up our bootstraps and moving to Roanoke. What I’ve learned since then is that kids are more adaptable and resilient than adults are. Way more flexible. We adults, we miss our home. I may not have lived there as long as the other old ladies and men, but I finally planted some roots that were my own and that’s been a hardship for me to let go of.

All the single men ended up living in bunker style accommodations that have a common living area and dorm style showers and toilets. When I took the tour when construction was complete, I was initially concerned that they didn’t have any real privacy outside of the shower curtains and stalls. But they all took it in stride and have made it work. New friendships have been formed and they have a bond that’s indomitable.

I honestly don’t know how they’ve managed to not step on each other’s toes.

Couples with children ended up in mobile homes that were wheeled in, tied down, and quicker than I could blink, the water and electric lines were hooked up. The connections that Roanoke has have made it an easy transition, all things considered. The old ladies assisted in getting furniture and household items, so everyone’s able to ‘do life’ with their own family. We’re not forced to be together all the time, which is a good thing seeing as many from the Cedar Creek chapter have abilities, while those in Roanoke do not.

Butcher’s in a meeting so I’m alone with the kids. All four of them are hyped up on sugar because I had the bright idea to start making Christmas candy to pass out to not only our club, but Roanoke's as well. I’d love nothing more than to take them outside and let them run some of their energy off, but since I have a glaze concoction boiling on the stove, that’s a pipe dream.

The kids right now are pretending to be pirates, skidding around with homemade swords and wearing makeshift eye patches that were constructed out of kitchen utensils and tinfoil. Currently, they are running amuck, high on life, acting their ages. I grind my teeth, reminding myself that they’re going to have a childhood full of uproarious laughter, imagination, and freedom unlike anything I ever knew. My sensitivity to the ruckus needs to take a backseat because this is the life I always envisioned for myself as a child and daydreamed about, and the fact that my girls are living it is beyond precious. Add in the bonus of Nitro, who has taken his position as big brother to heart, and I’m a happy woman.

“Give me ten more minutes and then we’ll head outside so y’all can seize the property!” I holler around the ear shattering noise.

Amelia skids to a stop beside me, giving me puppy eyes. “Can we play in the snow?”

Shit. I forgot about that white powder that makes my fingers and toes go numb. I’m not used to the wintry months, I’m a southern girl who counts tumbleweeds in her sleep.

“Sure,” I say, drawing out the word while trying to contemplate a new idea that’ll keep them from losing their minds and swearing that I’m a deal breaker.

Faye, who also skidded to a stop near me, bats her eyelashes. “Promise?”

“Pinky promise,” I swear, even though I really wish I’d stop opening my mouth and inserting my foot.

“Dad will be home soon, he can take us if you don’t want to,” Nitro offers, but the look in his eyes tells me he really wants me to be the one who takes them out to dispel their vigor.

“Mom doesn’t break pinky promises. Do you, Mom?” Hannah, the manipulative one of the bunch asks, knowing damn good and well that if I’m called out or challenged, I’m going to face it head on.

“That’s right,” I reply, lightening my tone into a playful one so she doesn’t put two and two together and realize that she all but put me in my place.

Damn smart, intuitive kids. I love that they all have some sort of specialty, but I wish they wouldn’t use it on me.

“Has it been ten minutes yet?” Nitro asks with a sulking tone as he hauls himself to the front door and starts sliding on his snowsuit, boots, and hat.

“No,” I laugh. “More like three.”

“Ah, man,” he pouts, shuffling his feet. “Ten minutes takes forever.”

“You could go clean your room, that’d eat up some of that time,” I suggest, smiling to myself because I know, just like every Mom in existence does, that he’d rather sit there and sulk before picking up after himself.

Just as I expected, he gets a deer in the headlights look on his face before he turns away from me where I can no longer see his eyes. Cleaning is a sin in their eyes, they claim they can’t find their things when things have been moved from where they put them. The only problem with that is that I’ve twisted my ankles more times than I can count navigating through the black hole they call their bedrooms. I’ve had my fair share of sitting down with either ice packs or the heating pad on my backside from falling on my ass when I went head over tea kettle.

“You can’t hide from cleaning forever, Nitro,” I remind him.

“I’ll do it tonight,” he mumbles.

“Before or after lights out?” I ask, continuing with our bantering. This is how he and I bonded. He’s so much like his dad that it’s uncanny and ridiculous.

“That’s yet to be decided,” he counters, a playful smirk following his words.

“Don’t forget, I own a flashlight and I don’t mind being your spotlight in the darkness,” I tease.

“Come on, Nitro. We’ll help you get your room picked up so Mom doesn’t have to go all lighthouse on us.” Hannah giggles, pulling on Nitro’s sleeve. He’s subdued as he follows her, muttering underneath his breath about how unfair life is.

Our boys room was too much to handle in one sitting, so we’re taking a break now that my glaze has coated the handmade candy. The winter chill has me shivering and my nose plus fingers feels like they’re icicles. But the kids need to expel some energy, and they need to get themselves some exercise outside of the house, even if it feels like we’re doing so in Antarctica.

“Snowball fight!” Nitro roars as he rushes at the girls with two handfuls of packed snow in his hands.

The girls all squeal simultaneously, running behind trees to take cover.

We’ve built four snowmen, and my hair is soaking wet due to the angels we laid down and brushed with our bodies. Thankfully, I had the forethought to tuck extra knitted toboggans I bought online for a steal in my pockets to exchange dry ones for wet ones.

Out of the corner of my peripheral I notice Butcher, Wrecker, Striker, and Prowler sneaking up behind Nitro, each one with three to four snowballs of their own clutched in their palms. A small grin grows on my face when I see what they’re up to.

Nitro is good with the girls. However, he also needs to have some male bonding and these guys always step up to the plate. They spend time with our girls too, but there are times when roughhousing is called into play, and then there are times when playtime requires a more gentle touch. To the outside world these men are outlaws who are brash and rude, but to us, their family, they’re our heartbeat, lifeline, and saviors. They always have been and always will be one thing for each of the women they’ve put their life on the line for—our salvation.