A Ruthless Christmas by K.L. Savage
It’s two in the morning, and Badge looks ridiculous. All the adults are awake, drinking, laughing, and blowing off steam. Sarah is trying to stuff one last pillow in the Santa outfit for Badge’s fake belly, but it won’t go in.
Oh, wait, never mind. She got it.
She grunts as she pulls the black belt tight and slaps his round belly when she’s done. The outfit is complete. “There. You’re all done.”
“How do I look?” Badge asks everyone in the kitchen. Even my sister is here instead of downstairs. She has stayed next to me all day and night, and that makes me feel good; like she can trust me.
The last few days have been horrible. I never want to experience the horrors I went through thinking Sarah was dead. Doc ran some tests on my heart and come to find out, I didn’t have a heart attack, but I did experience broken heart syndrome.
I didn’t know that was a thing until Doc told me. My heart was literally broken; the tendons inside were under so much stress from the grief I felt that they snapped.
“You look like a fake Santa,” Tongue says, placing Happy on the table.
Everyone scoots back, chairs fall to the floor, and Happy swishes his tail, which has a bell on it, so it jingles every time he moves. Let’s not forget the Santa hat and the matching red nails. Daphne isn’t scared like the rest of the guys. She’s sitting on Tongue’s lap and kisses Happy on the snout.
There really is someone out there for everyone.
“Tongue, you do know all Santas are fake,” Badge points out, and Tongue whips out his knife and flings it through the air. It takes off Badge’s Santa hat and pins it to the wall.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” Badge tugs the knife from the wall and readjusts his hat. “Okay, give me the bag. I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he grumbles as I hand him the heaviest bag of fucking gifts in the world. He grips the red bag and throws it over his shoulder, and Sarah sneaks a picture.
“Sorry, I had to,” Sarah says. “Okay, remember, Maizey is going to wake up. She wants proof you’re real. Be ready.”
“Aidan too. They will work together as a team.”
“I’m not scared of kids,” Badge stays, shoving a cookie in his mouth. “Kids are dumb. In a good way, you know, innocent and ‘growing’ and all that.” He finger quotes it, which only makes us think he’s truly terrified of what’s about to happen. Kids are smart, resilient, and clever.
And he has no idea what he’s signed up for. “Okay, everyone, quiet down. Not one noise. Badge is going to put the gifts under the tree,” I say, flipping the light off, so we’re all in the dark. The kitchen is warm with so many bodies in it. On top of the Kings, Boomer and his crew are here too.
Patrick and Sunnie aren’t here. They’re in their room. After the emotional ordeal with Patrick fighting off his urge to drink, he’s been asleep since. Sunnie hasn’t left his side and has read that damn book front to back three times for him, but Sarah told me that’s what stopped Patrick from taking a drink. I’ll be forever in her debt for saving my friend.
I peek around the corner to see Badge drop the bag on the floor and lay his hands on his stomach. He ho-ho-ho’s like Santa does, and I have to cover my mouth to keep quiet. Badge is such an asshole; he loves this shit, no matter how much he says he hates it.
He finds the cookies and milk on the mantel and ignores the gifts for a few minutes. He stuffs the chocolate chip cookies in his mouth, then chugs the milk. When he’s done, he grabs the plate of carrots for the reindeer, turns over his shoulder, and points to it. “What the fuck do I do with this?”
“Eat it,” I whisper loudly.
“I hate carrots,” Badge grumbles his dissatisfaction and tosses the carrots in the fireplace instead. “There. Problem solved.”
I rub my hand down my face, wondering why we didn’t get Tank to be Santa. He’s much more pleasant to deal with.
Badge places the plate on the mantle, ignoring the already stuffed stockings, and opens the bag. “I can’t believe we have a fucking cactus and not a real tree,” he says under his breath, but if I can hear him, the kids can too.
“For the love of all things vile, shut up!” I warn him, and Sarah pinches my butt. “Ow.” I rub the tender spot. She lays her finger over her lips, telling me to shut up.
I’ll show her how to shut up by stuffing my co—
“Get him!” Maizey warrior cries, and Aidan follows suit.
Everyone in the kitchen does their best to stay quiet when they hear the tiny squeals.
“You go right, I go left,” Maizey orders.
“Oh no,” I chuckle, watching as Maizey wraps a string of Christmas lights around Badge.
Aidan goes the other way, making sure Santa is stuck in the string of lights.
Maizey high kicks Badge in the belly, and he falls in a perfectly placed chair. Aidan wraps more lights around him and the chair, so Badge has nowhere to go. He’s yelling at the top of his lungs, mouth open, chestnut colored hair glowing almost red against the Christmas lights. When he runs out of lights, he does the only thing he knows to do with them.
Aidan plugs it in.
And Badge lights up in blues, oranges, yellows, reds, and greens. I see the annoyance in Santa’s eyes, staring daggers right at me.
“We caught Santa!” Maizey squeals, and she and Aidan high five one another.
“Mommy, Daddy!” Maizey calls out for us, and Sarah intertwines her fingers with mine.
“I think that’s our cue,” Sarah says.
“Do we unwrap, Badge?” Skirt asks, peeking over my shoulder.
“Nah, leave him like that for a while. It will be good for him,” I say.
“This is the best Christmas ever,” Warden says with a big smile on his face. Everyone gives him a hard glare, and he backtracks. “I don’t mean the bad shit. I just mean now.”
Bane throws his arm around his twin’s shoulder. “I know what you meant.”
“Mommy! I caught Santa. I caught Santa. Hurry, come see before he poofs away!” Maizey says with urgency.
Maybe Warden is right, maybe this is, right now, the best Christmas ever.
“We’re going to take pictures of Badge like this, right? Blackmail him for the rest of time?” Poodle asks.
“Oh yeah, definitely.”
