A Ruthless Christmas by K.L. Savage

 

“My Maze, wake up.” I nudge my little girl’s arm gently as she sleeps. It’s kind of late, but I’ll be damned if I miss one more day to make her excited for Christmas. I’ve been a bad dad; I haven’t tried hard enough to make Christmas special for her. That changes now, though, because it’s the first holiday she’s spent here since she was rescued, and she deserves to feel all the Christmas cheer.

I also shouldn’t think of her as my daughter. Nothing is finalized. If anyone ever found out we had her, we would probably be charged with kidnapping. Badge dug into the missing persons database, but since we don’t know her last name, there was only a few hundred pictures to look through because her name is so unique.

What we found had me begging to kill her father, who is currently in prison for sexually assaulting her younger brother. I don’t know where he is; we have looked everywhere. I just hope her father didn’t sell him to the same people that had my Maze. Her mother is dead, so we are the only real family she has.

Are we fucking dipped in gold?

No.

But we don’t hurt innocent people. We don’t fucking hurt kids. She’s safe here. I’ll fucking climb all the mountains, kill all the people, and slay all of the dragons if it means keeping her safe. Someone hadn’t tried hard enough before, but that’s not the case now.

She has more than a dozen men at her side, her army, and nothing is going to get in the way of us fighting all of her battles. Even when she’s grown. And I don’t care what I need to do, what laws I need to break—Maze will be here with us. She will have my last name, and she will be my little girl.

It’s the only way I know she will be protected. We can give her the love she deserves. She’s so different from me and Sarah. It’s obvious she isn’t our biological child, but it feels like it. Maze has long dark hair and big brown doe eyes with long lashes that nearly touch her brow. When she’s older, she’s going to be gorgeous.

You know how many souls I’m going to have to reap then? Stupid fucking boys. I know what they want, and they sure as hell aren’t going to come near my Maze trying to get it.

Her lashes flutter, and those beautiful brown irises blink at me. “Dadd—

I mean, Reaper,” she corrects herself, and I have to hold my breath to stop the pure fucking joy and emotion coursing through me right now.

I clear my throat and hold back the burn behind my eyes, so I don’t lose it. I’m the Prez. I can’t lose it. I have to be strong for everyone a hundred times over because that’s what Presidents do—they find strength when none is left.

“Hey, Maze. Just letting you know, you can call me Daddy, or Reaper, or Jesse. I’m happy with any of them.” I try to play it cool, but I really want her to call me Daddy. I never once thought I’d have the chance, but yet, here I am.

And I’ve never wanted it more.

“Okay,” she whispers and stretches her arms up and over her head as she yawns, showing her two front teeth that are missing.

Shut the fuck up! No kid is allowed to be this fucking cute.

“You want to go get that tree we’ve been talking about?” I ask her.

I’ve never seen anyone move so fast in my life. She bolts out of bed, tripping on the comforter that’s wrapped around her foot, but I catch her so she doesn’t fall. She’s wearing a onesie that has those Disney Frozen princesses all over it. She puts on her bunny slippers, then her Trolls beanie and grabs her puffy white jacket that makes her look like a marshmallow. Maze is ready in less than a minute.

It’s impressive, but getting the girl to brush her teeth … that can take an eternity.

“You sure you want to go?” I ask her, and she grabs my hand to drag me out the door.

“I’m sure. I’m sure. I’m sure! Let’s go, Daddy. Let’s go!”

She decided to call me Daddy.

I wipe my right eye on my shirt sleeve. Allergies. Presidents of a badass MC do not cry.

“Anything you fucking want, Maze.” I smile, lifting her up by her arms and hitching her to my side.

“You said a bad word,” she calls me out. “I’m gonna tell Mommy.”

She’s got to stop. I can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s because Sarah and I have been trying so hard to have kids, and hearing the title hits home. “Badge, watch Maze for a second; I need to go find Sarah,” I say, handing Maze off to the guy who can’t stand children but loves Maze.

He holds her out in front of him, hands under her armpits, and looking unsure of what to do. “Um, okay. I can do it. I got it.”

“I’m not an it!” Maze harrumphs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re something,” Badge comments as I walk away, which makes me smile to myself.

She really is something.

Before I find Sarah, I need a minute. Right now, I don’t want to be Reaper. I don’t want to be the President of the Ruthless Kings.

I want to be a dad. For the first time in my life, I’m a fucking dad. I slink into the kitchen without bothering to turn on any lights and grab the edge of the table to stop myself from falling over.

In happiness.

In exhaustion.

In relief.

And I allow myself to tear up. I knock my knuckles on the table, harder than I intended, and let myself feel the immense joy in my heart right now. No one can relate except Sarah. God, we’ve been trying and trying and fucking trying to get pregnant. I don’t have the strength to tell Sarah that I don’t think it will happen. We lost the one we were meant to have, and for a long time I held out hope, but every time she takes a pregnancy test and she cries, I lose a little bit of that hope I’ve been clinging onto.

But now, I swear to God, my heart is fucking full.

“Ye alright, Prez? I swear, I hear sniffles,” Skirt says from behind me, carrying his newborn daughter, Joey, named after Doc’s ol’ lady, Joanna after she tried to save Skirt’s life from a fire.

“I’m fine.” That sounds like a lie. My voice cracks, completely giving away how I’m doing.

“Shite, Prez. What the fuck happened? Is Sarah okay? Is Maizey okay? Did someone die? Damn it, don’t tell me someone died.”

I push Skirt by the shoulder until we are safe in the hallway where my office is. “Maizey called me Daddy,” I say proudly, nearly puffing out my chest. “I’m a Dad.”

Skirt’s eyes soften around the edges as he stares at me. In a flash of understanding, he knows that right now I’m not trying to be tough. I’m not trying to be the man everyone needs me to be all the time. I’m fucking human at the end of the day, and I won’t blink an eye when it comes to killing necessary evil. But when it comes to the ones I love, I have a soft spot in my heart. An area of quicksand that I get lost in when I’m around Sarah or Maizey.

“Aye, Reaper. Yer a dad. Bring it in, big fella. Congratulations.” He gives me a quick hug and pats me on the back, and we’re careful not to squish Joey between us.

“Thank you.” Being soft, I place my arm on his throat and push him against the wall, so quick, yet gentle so I don’t wake his daughter. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll be fucking furious.”

“Ye don’t want to tell people yer a dad?”

“No one knows I teared up. Got it?”

“Ah, aye, got it. Don’t worry, Reaper. I don’t think less of ye for dropping a few tears. Being a dad does that. I can’t go anywhere without my Joey. I feel fucking lost when she isn’t attached to me. I got to feel her little breaths and hear those tiny sighs. Her fist likes to grip on to me beard and yank it. It hurts, and I’ll forever have a few bald patches, but I wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

I let go of his neck, and he brings Joey up to his shoulder, burying his nose in her bright red hair. She’s Skirt’s daughter, that’s for sure.

“That’s so sweet,” Tongue’s drawl comes from a nearby corner, but I don’t know which.

It has me and Skirt jumping, and I don’t find it to be a coincidence that Joey starts to cry. “Damn it, Tongue.”

“Congratulations, Reaper. I’m happy for you.” And just like that, the scary bastard is gone.

I reach my hand into the corner and grab nothing but air. He was here, though. He was right here.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Tongue isn’t going to get ye, baby. I got ye.” Skirt bounces to hush his little girl to keep her from crying, but she isn’t letting up anytime soon. She gets louder. “Damn it, Tongue.”

“I plan on getting the tree. Do you, Dawn, Aidan, and little miss thing here want to go?”

“Aye. Let me tell Dawn and Aidan.”

“Reaper! Reaper!” Tool’s voice is urgent as he yells out my name.

I turn to look over my shoulder to see him dart through the kitchen, searching for me. I step out of the hallway and flip on the light. He stops in his tracks, and shakes his head at me as I start unsheathing the knife I keep tucked away in the back of my pants. “What happened?”

“No, you don’t need that,” he gasps, the light shining against the sweat on his forehead. “A woman came into the club. She’s in bad shape. She’s in the main room, and Doc is looking her over.”

“Oh.” I put my knife away and start toward the main room. “Is she okay? What’s her name?”

“I don’t know, but she asked for you.”

“Uh, interesting. Okay, I’ll go check it out.”

Tool’s hand stops me by gripping my bicep. “Prez, I have to warn you. She looks a lot like you. And she’s young.”

I think about what he’s saying and hope like hell Tool doesn’t mean what I think he means. “You might want to cut to the chase before you piss me off and ruin my good mood.”

“Just go see for yourself. I’m probably wrong.”

My heart thumps as I stomp my way down the hallway. When I come through, Badge is there, still holding Maizey as if she has a disease.

“I can do this all day, buddy,” Maizey says, poking Badge in the cheek.

“I hope not,” he mumbles under his breath.

I don’t have time to deal with that right now. I have to go see what the fuss is about. I get to the living room, and Doc is listening to the stranger’s heartbeat, while the guys hover around as close as they can.

The expression on their faces tells me I need to be worried. When Poodle’s eyes meet mine, he swallows. I look to Slingshot next to him, who pops a skittle in his mouth, but won’t even meet my eyes. Knives is spinning his ninja star in his hand while Mary is on the other side of him, sitting in a chair, still healing from a piece of wood impaling her leg. She kicks Knives, and he drops his ninja star on the ground, which rolls to the tip of my boot.

Clink.

The steel-toe of my boot meets the silver star, and it causes it to tip over.

“You made me drop my star, Mary!”

“Maybe you aren’t as slick with your weapon as you thought.”

“Want to find out?” he challenges her, and even though I’m in the room, they won’t look at me either.

Fuck.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out; it’s Boomer calling. Damn it, he probably wants to talk about Christmas plans.

But there’s always something, isn’t there? Can’t we have a fucking month where nothing happens? I’d love for the only thing I need to be worried about is Tongue blindly making people mute and Slingshot’s taco disorder because it sure as fuck is not an addiction.

I ignore his call and squat next to Doc in front of the couch. I analyze the woman. She’s skinny. Her clothes are old, and she smells like she hasn’t bathed in weeks. “What’ve we got?”

“I wish I knew more, but I don’t. She’s coming out of hypothermia, which is odd. It’s cold, but it isn’t that cold. It’s like she walked out of a freezer to get to this state. She’s skinny, and the poor girl has been through it. She’s bruised all over, a few cuts, fractured orbital socket. I’d put her in her early twenties, maybe nineteen? She’s young.”

“Jesse,” she whispers my name, and I fall onto my ass in surprise.

I point at her. “I’ve never met this woman in my life. She can’t be going around saying my name like that. Sarah will kill her.”

The girl starts to come to, pinching her brows in pain before her eyes open, and they’re the same color as mine. She searches her surroundings, and our eyes lock, and something snaps into place. I don’t know what it is, but I have this need to take care of her. “Jesse,” she says my name again, but it’s weighed down with so much pain. Her eyes water, and the first of her tears fall. “I found you.”

I knee-walk to her and take her hand in mine. “Listen, you’ve got to tell me how we know each other because I can’t remember. I’m an asshole like that,” I state, which causes her to smile. It’s watery and tired, but it’s there.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asks as she walks around the couch. When she sees me holding the hand of another woman, she doesn’t think twice or doubt me. She knows I would never set my eyes on anyone else, and I love her for it. She lays her hand on top of mine and the person she doesn’t know. “Are you okay? Oh my God. What happened?”

“What’s your name?” I ask her, squeezing her hand to keep her awake. “How do you know me?”

“My mom said.” Her teeth clatter against one another, and she gives a full body shiver.

“Give me another damn blanket!” I bark.

Not two seconds later, the guest in our house is covered in ten of them. I’m going to leave them there. She seems like she needs all the heat.

She tries again, stammering through the shivers. “My mom … said if anything … bad ever happened to … to find you, Jesse. Vegas. Ruthless Kings.” She repeats the last three as if reading from a list in her mind. “Jesse. Vegas. Ruthless Kings,” she says again.

“Hey, you’re here,” I say, cupping her jaw with my hand, but she flinches away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Delilah,” she stammers. “My name is Delilah.”

“That’s a pretty name,” I say, staring into her eyes that are eerily similar to mine. “Are you my daughter? I swear to God, I didn’t know about you,” I blurt.

She chuckles before painfully groaning, then shakes her head. “Sister,” she corrects me.

“Sister? That’s … no. That’s impossible.” It isn’t. My dad wasn’t a saint. He fucked around with club sluts every single day until the day he died.

But the longer I stare into her eyes, the more I know she’s right. They’re too familiar. The structure of her face, her mouth, the color of her hair; even the way she smiles is too much like me. I don’t need details when the facts are staring me in the face.

I have a sister.

And she’s under the Kings protection now.

Until death.

And after.

It’s the Ruthless way.