Selah’s Wish (Imperial Knights MC #1)

Chapter 12

TWELVE

Butcher

Plans are still being hashed out in regard to my sister’s rescue mission. There’s still a lot we need answers to before we go in with guns blazing. Not all documentation has been accounted for, and that’s what’s holding us up when it comes to letting RiffRaff ride in. We won’t let him go into that situation blind.

In the meantime, Christmas is in the air. Everywhere I turn, holiday music is being blasted through the surround sound. The outside pavilion isn't safe from the tunes either. Even when I put my air pods in my ears and try to listen to some of my favorite rock music, it's drowned out by all of the holiday cheer.

It's not that I'm opposed to celebrating this time of year, it's that every now and then, a guy needs a break. Old ladies from both charters got together and put a big ass fucking Christmas tree in the middle of the communal yard. No matter where I go, somehow, tinsel gets stuck in my hair and snowflakes settle on my eyelashes—both the fake and authentic shit.

Can't even relax in my own home without hearing Christmas carols being sung by the kids. I'm beginning to understand the mindset of the Grinch when he stole Christmas. I don't mean to be humbug about the whole thing, but it's getting to the point where it's ridiculous. My woman though, she gets me. She walks up to me with two helmets clutched in her hands. My eyes roam up and down her as I release a whistle. She’s wearing leather pants and jacket that both fit her like a second layer of skin.

“Hot damn,” I sing, adjusting myself in my jeans.

“Feel like a ride, biker man?” she asks in a sultry voice, strolling up to where I’m sitting, trying to catch my breath. Thank fuck the roads have been cleared by the sand trucks because feeling the wind in my face as I wind through the mountains sounds like a good way to unwind.

“What kind of ride were you thinking, Darlin’?” I ask, steadily drinking her in. She’s a man’s wet dream in that getup.

“The kind where we let the wind lead us,” she purrs. “And if we take a break along the way, we’ll find a way to fill the time until we get back on the bike and head home.”

“Home,” I repeat, letting the word resonate. Home isn’t a structure or piece of land, it’s wherever she and the kids are. That’s something I sometimes forget when I’m lost in my head, but anytime that occurs, she’s there to remind me.

“Come on, baby. I’m ready to feel your steel horse revving between my legs.” Her innuendo has a certain part of my anatomy perking up and taking interest.

“You love it when I rev my engine,” I joke, reaching up and yanking her into my lap.

“I do,” she giggles. “It’s the highlight of my life.” She winds her arms around my neck and begins combing her fingers through my hair. “Let’s get away for a little bit and leave life in our rearview mirror.”

“Where are the kids?” I ask, not worried about their whereabouts, just curious.

“With Dragon and Laney. They’re snuggled in their cabin with them. When I left, they had hot chocolate in hand and were laying in front of their fake indoor fireplace. There were talks of animated holiday movies, popcorn, and making a gingerbread house.”

“Lucky man,” I say, referring to Dragon. Unlike me, he bows down when it comes to this holiday shit and has accepted it as a way of life that thankfully, only rolls around once a year.

“One day, Butcher, you're gonna tell me why Christmas bothers you so much,” she insists. And one day I will, maybe today, but for now, the mountainous roads are calling my name.

“One day,” I parrot, lifting her up in my arms and marching through the snow toward the shed that houses my motorcycle. We won’t be going for a long ride, I don’t know these roads well enough in the wintertime to avoid black ice, but the fact that they’ve been sanded helps ease my concern.

“It’s beautiful,” Selah says, admiring the view. We found a nice layout with a spectacular backdrop and stopped to take in the sights. Hands roamed which led to other things, and now, we’re butt ass naked with a blanket I had stored in my saddlebag wrapped around us as we watch the snow drift from the sky.

It’s chilly, but our body heat is helping us keep warm. I bury my head in the nape of her neck and decide now’s the time to give her a piece of me she’s been longing for.

“When I was ten, Dad got laid off. Things were tight, and we came close to starving. Whereas in the Christmas pasts, we had a buttload of presents under the tree, the lack of gifts that year is not what ruined it for us. It was the tears that settled in my mom’s eyes that stayed there for the entire day, and the desolated look in my dad’s saying he felt like a failure. They didn’t have the heart to play carols in the background and dance to them like they always did, instead, they tiptoed around one another. The three of us could care less that we got underwear and socks for presents and our stockings were basically bare, consisting of apples, oranges, and a bottle of water. We only wanted them to be happy. The tension between them was like a powder keg waiting to be detonated. That’s when their relationship went from loving to tolerable. It broke a part of us when it came to celebrating the holidays that we never recovered from.”

“Oh, Butcher. I’m sorry,” Selah whispers. “That must’ve been traumatic for you as a kid. Did they stay together after that?”

Digging my nose deeper into her neck, I answer, “They stayed together until the day they died. They took their marital vows seriously. They didn’t cheat on one another, they just never healed from the disappointment and the financial struggle. They never danced around the house, they didn’t cook supper together, they didn’t go out on dates, they simply existed in the same house.”

“So Christmas brings you nothing but sad memories,” she concludes.

Shame swamps me as I tell her, “I get twitchy when the holiday season approaches. Always watching and waiting for the shoe to drop. I fear that the day will come that somehow, I'll let you and the kids down. It's always in the back of my mind because if it could happen to my parents, it could happen to us. To me. I can’t lose y’all, Selah.”

“We’re not going anywhere, Butcher. We may not have said vows in front of a preacher, but you have me and the kids for better or worse. Thick and thin, biker man, we’ll be a family. If the time comes when Christmas resembles the one you experienced, we’ll still dance and celebrate. Together. Money keeps the lights on, but it doesn’t keep the house warm. I’m sorry your folks let something as mundane as money separate them, but I grew up in a way where that’s not something that’ll keep me from loving you. Money is just paper, love is everlasting. I’d take you over financial security any day of the week.”

“Fuck. I love you, woman,” I say, kissing her shoulder.

“And I love you more than words can say,” she rebuts, leaning back into my chest. “You can’t get rid of me, Butcher. You’re stuck with me and my love until the end of time.”

“Best Christmas present I could ask for, Lah.”

“And you’ll get it every year from here to eternity. My love for you is infinite, Butcher. I’ll even gift wrap it for you if you ever forget.”

“Yes. That means I can unwrap it underneath the tree,” I tease, moving her head sideways with my fingers, plastering my lips to hers.

This is the day where I start learning how to love Christmas again. With her guidance and perseverance, there’s no room for failure.