Page 34 of Amy's Santa

“But I can give you more than that. I can give you my heart, Amy. Fuck, you’ve owned it since we first met. Has anyone else given you that? Has Xander?”

All I can think is no one but Drew has ever made such a promise.

I can’t speak. I don’t think I even dare breathe, fearing I’ll I wake up to find that this is all a dream.

Chapter Ten

Heart

“Whatcha got, Mouse?” Drummer asks when he walks in carrying his tablet.

Drummer had given us an hour after we’d returned from the ride—enough time for me to have a talk with Amy—and then we assembled at his house. His sons, Hawk and Zane are partying down at the clubhouse, his old lady Sam is supervising the preparation of Christmas dinner. Me, Wraith, Blade and Peg are currently sprawled on sofas and chairs, while Drummer strides across the room and back, his hand toying with his mostly salt beard now, a gesture he often employs as he thinks. Though I didn’t particularly like sharing Amy’s secret, I’d brought the men I’m closest to up to speed.

“Found shit out about this Flint.” Mouse purses his lips, and Peg, taking the hint, shifts up along the sofa, making room for the tech guy to sit. At Drummer’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “He’s married with a wife and a kid.”

My eyes narrow. “She know he plays at kink clubs?”

“Who knows? But she spent some time in a women’s shelter a year ago back.”

“She left him?” Peg asks, his brow creased.

“After a couple of visits to the emergency room, yes,” Mouse confirms. “But it would appear she’s living with him again now.”

“Why the fuck did she go back?” Blade asks, shaking his head. “Fuck, some women are gluttons for punishment.”

“Maybe she didn’t have a choice,” I put in. “Man like that is used to getting what he wants.” Just like he took from Amy. “If he wanted her back and was able to find her, he might have enticed her back somehow.”

“He probably laid on the charm, convinced her he could change,” Drummer says decisively. “He had to be compelling and/or persuasive else Amy would never have trusted him. Fuck knows I respect that girl and she wouldn’t step blindly into something that didn’t look right. He’d have had to have been convincing to get to her. What hope would his wife have?”

Blade suddenly takes out his knife and plants it in Drummer’s coffee table, then, his arthritic ravished hands pull it back out and he looks around sheepishly. But Drum’s table’s got scars from over the years, sure Sam had complained when she’d seen the first one, but she’s given up since then. Blade expresses his anger in one way.

When he realises Drummer isn’t going to admonish him, his eyes roam the room, landing briefly on each one of us, settling finally on mine. I feel like an insect pierced by a pin with the intensity of his stare. “He’s got to die. Are we all agreed?”

“Vote?” asks Wraith, quite reasonably.

“Fuck yeah,” I say with feeling.

“No choice,” inputs Mouse.

After a moment, Peg gives his verdict, “Yes.”

“Sergeant-at-arms?” Drummer fixes his steely glare on him, having noticed his delayed response. “Got concerns?”

Peg chuckles. “Ain’t SAA anymore,Prez.”

“I ain’t enforcer,” Blade puts in. “But I’m still ready to tear off this fucker’s balls. He hurt one of ours, one of ours who we all but saw birthed.”

“One who I cared for like one of my own,” agrees Drum. “VP?” he raises his eyebrow toward Wraith, who’s gesturing he’s got something to say.

“I agree with everything said. Amy’s club, but more so to us than the youngsters. I don’t want the kids fighting our battles, taking over and spoiling our fun.” Wraith gives an evil smirk. “As Heart suggested, I’m happy we keep this discussion and outcome between ourselves.” His gesture encompasses the six of us.

I’m often touched by how my brothers rally around. Fuck, they’d had to when I went off the rails for six months, and before that when I was in a coma and then away recovering. Meant I hadn’t had any interaction with Amy for all but nine months, but even in my darkest moments I knew they were all watching out for her, like they’re still doing.

“Shouldn’t we at least tell Prez what’s going on?” Mouse looks concerned. He unties the long ponytail he still always wears his hair in and ties it with the same leather thong, the only change visible are the white strands which now pepper his long straight locks. “We go take out a man up in Phoenix, what if there’s blowback on the club? Shouldn’t we be doing it with his blessing?”

“My concern hit right there on the head,” Peg nods. “Looking out for the club has been my habit for more than thirty years.”

“How would you feel, Drum? If you were still prez and several members went rogue?”

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