Selah’s Wish (Imperial Knights MC #1)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Selah

“You’re all angels,” Mrs. Peterson, or Melissa as she made me promise to call her, says.

“There’s nothing angelic about these men,” I tease. “But there’s also nobody you’d rather have at your back than any one of them. They’re hard as steel on the outside, but on the inside, they’re squishy marshmallows.”

“When it comes to kids or people down on their luck, they do more than open up their wallets,” Ryleigh says as she bounces a newly awakened Aubree in her arms. “They’re good men.”

Thankfully, they have a room in the back that was set up like a daycare center and the club girls volunteered to watch them while we distributed gifts to families. We wrap our arms around Mrs. Peterson and walk her over to the car where her husband is checking out the motor.

“It’s solid,” Mr. Peterson announces. “Could you rev it one more time?” I look over and see Butcher behind the wheel, happily following directions with an amused smile on his face.

Brick walks up behind Jack, which is Mr. Peterson's given name, and asks him, “Do you ride, Jack?”

“I do, but now it’s in an enjoyable type of capacity. I prospected for a club in my younger days, before Melissa and I decided to settle down and raise a family. They called me Blackjack.”

“Why’d you step back?” Dragon asks.

“The club I was vying for weren’t leading a lifestyle that was conducive to raise children in. Not for us anyhow,” Jack admits. “They were doing some things I couldn’t get behind.”

As he reminisces, his eyes taking on a longing look, Melissa turns our way, facing us and clarifies, “On Jack’s last run with the Demented Sons, he discovered they were into human trafficking. With me pregnant at the time with our oldest, the thought of him crossing some sort of line in their eyes, and our baby paying the penance for that supposed transgression terrified him. He overlooked a lot of convoluted things, including their drug and gun pipelines, that’s sorta expected with one percenters, but selling and trading kids, women, and men, that’s something he can’t and won’t condone.”

“I’d think not,” I rush out, my breath hitching as I say the words.

I make a mental note to look into this felonious club, dig as deep as I can because they could be just as nefarious as the Fundamentalists of the Communion—the religious cult I was raised in. Whereas the communion hides behind the cloak of their zealot beliefs, the Demented Sons hide beneath a leather cut. One just as scary as the other and both of them holding power they shouldn’t be capable of.

I tune back into the men's conversation and hear Brick state, “When the weather lifts, and your arm is back to one-hundred percent, you should take a ride with us.”

“I’d like that, thank you,” Jack says, holding his hand out and shaking Brick’s before making his rounds and showing his gratitude to them all. “This is what I always thought brotherhood was about. Thank you for reminding me that not every club is rotten.”

After a few more hugs and well wishes, we stand together as a collective and wave goodbye to them as they drive out of the lot, loaded down with Christmas goodies. We also may have included a few extras for the family. Not only did they receive a full Christmas meal from us, but we also tossed in some cookies for Santa too.

Later that night, after a bout of lovemaking and construction of toys, I’m cuddled in bed with Butcher. My mind is racing, unable to forget the words Melissa spoke.

“What’s on your mind, baby girl?” Butcher asks, tugging me deeper into his chest.

Sighing, I lay out everything that was shared with me in regard to the Demented Sons. When I finish, I tell him, “I think we should invite Jack and Melissa over sometime soon. Show them that even if we aren’t completely lawful, this club is full of good men and women and we stand tall for family.”

“I can bring it to the guys, but seeing as Brick invited him along for a ride, I don’t see it being a problem. We did kinda adopt the family,” he jokes.

“I think he’d make a good brother one day if we open the right doors,” I convey as I lightly brush the tips of my fingers over his torso. “Melissa would be a good sister.”

“You may be right, Lah. But we won’t know that for certain until we spend some time with them and see if they’re a good fit. We may like them as people, but that doesn’t mean they’ll mesh well with the club.”

I think over his words, and he’s right, but he’s also wrong. But seeing as I’m not a card carrying member of the Imperial Knights, I’ll have to let them discover that on their own. There have been some losses in the club, and I believe Jack will fill a piece of that void plus help the members heal.

Heartbreak can split your soul in half until something or someone comes along and starts mending it. There’s something soothing about him and Melissa that calls to me—they feel like kindred spirits. It’s almost as if they’re long lost family members who are slowly finding their way home.

“Sleep, beautiful. The kids will be up before the roosters.”

“You think? They had a hard time falling asleep. They were up really late,” I remind him.

“It’s the girls’ first Christmas home together. They never celebrated the holiday within the walls of the compound. You can take my word for what it is in this instance… solid, they’ll be up and rearing to go regardless of the fact they’ll only have gotten a few hours of sleep.”

“This whole gift giving thing is still new to me,” I admit as my eyes close, exhaustion pulling me under.

Before I completely pass out, I hear Butcher respond, “Welcome to your new life, Lah. You’ll never go without again.”

My sleep is packed full of beautiful dreams featuring me, Butcher, Nitro, Hannah, Amelia, and Faye. Years of laughter, love, and contentment. In warped speed, I foresee a future’s worth of presents being unwrapped, dancing in the living room, the girls and I cooking in the kitchen as Butcher and Nitro are in front of the television set. If this is what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life, I’m all in.

We are brutally awoken from sleep with four kids pouncing on the bed, all of their eyes lit with excitement.

“It’s Christmas, Mama. And Santa came to see us. Does this mean we were good this year?” Amelia asks me.

“You’ve been good every year, baby,” I tell her, placing a peck on her forehead.

“Then why didn’t he ever come to see us before now?” Faye asks.

“He did,” Butcher interjects. “But the bad men hid your gifts because they didn’t want you to believe in anything but them.”

My old man is a rip the Band-Aid off type of guy, he doesn’t believe in bullshitting the kids. Other than letting them believe in such things as Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and other mystical creatures. They knew the people in control of their lives before coming home weren’t good, they know the evil that resides within them. They’ve seen more than any kids their age should, so they can fathom their things being hidden from them.

“That was rude,” Amelia states, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Very,” Butcher agrees.

“Okay,” I say, clapping my hands. “Let’s go see what’s all under the tree.” Four sets of eyes swing my way before they all yip in elation and leap from the bed.

“You ready for this?” Butcher asks me as he tosses a sweatshirt over his upper body, keeping his flannel pajama pants on.

“I am. I’m excited,” I confess as I slip my house shoes on my feet.

“Then let’s go see our kids smile,” he says, reaching out his hand for me. Once I have my fingers laced with his, he drags me from the room. The first thing that reaches my ears are the kids’ squeals, causing my face to split into a grin.