Page 52 of Amy's Santa

Wasting no time, Blade’s already switching the plates on the truck.

Our new plan is that just four of us will go to Flint’s house in the truck with Blade, while the rest stay with the bikes. This many bikers would stand out, even if we’re not flying colours. Wizard had also suggested another amendment, one which made Blade and Throttle exchange grins.

We’d agreed I would be one of the ones in the truck—well I wasn’t going to miss out on visiting the bastard’s lair. Same goes for Wizard. With us will be the current and ex sergeant-at-arms. It was a good move. No one in their right minds would face off against a big fucker like Peg, and that also goes for Hound.

The next step in the plan requires me swearing on my children’s life not to punch Flint in the face immediately upon seeing him. My word had been necessary; we’d agreed that I’ll be the one to approach Flint’s front door as I apparently look the least threatening. That’s okay, I’ve been underestimated many times.

Having switched plates, Blade checks with Mouse and programs the GPS. Then, with back slaps and instructions to get the fucking job done, we pile into the truck.

Five minutes later and we’re at our destination. I’m tense as we first take a casual drive up the street to give us a chance to assess the house and the surrounding area. Mouse though, I’m pleased to see, had got it right, and the privacy Flint clearly desires is going to be his downfall. I share a twisted grin with Prez. Blade pulls the truck over and parks.

“I couldn’t see any cameras, and the hedge will give us some cover,” Wizard offers.

“When you get there, keep your head down, Heart,” Peg suggests, “in case he has security on the front door.”

Appreciating the unnecessary warning, I give him a sharp nod. “I’ll keep my eye out.”

“His car was parked to the side of the house. I couldn’t see any windows along that wall,” Hound comments. “He wouldn’t see the damage from inside.”

“Then we don’t need to actually slash the tyres,” Prez says. “We’ll just tell him that’s what’s been done. Blade, make sure you’re ready to come on Heart’s signal.”

“Here.” Hound hands me the overalls he’d grabbed from our auto-shop. Awkwardly, as there’s not a lot of space, I slip into them. Now I’ll just look like a mechanic on his way home from work.

“You got your head in the right place for this, Heart?” Prez checks, his eyes hardening as they find mine. “Remember, success hinges on you keeping your cool. Trusting you, Brother.”

Raising my chin, I give my silent promise.

“Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.” Prez opens the door and gets out, we follow him. “Ready boys?”

I rise up on the balls of my feet then let my heels down. “Never been readier.”

“Ready, Prez,” comes followed by two more affirmative replies.

As Prez bangs twice on the truck, Blade drives off to find somewhere to make a U-turn and will return so he’s facing the right way down the street. Next Wizard, Peg, and Hound start walking sharply in the direction of Flint’s house. While I give them a minute to get into position, in case anyone’s watching, I bend down and pretend to tie an imaginary bootlace.

Time.I stand and take a deep breath. My job is getting Flint out of the house unharmed and without arousing his suspicion. But knowing the fucker has had his hands on my kid means it’s a mammoth task to remember not to punch him in the jaw at first sight. But I’ve promised my prez, and if I want him dead, and want to live life as a free man, this is the way I’ll have to play it.

Nonchalantly, I walk down the street. I walk past the house, stop then turn back. Then moving to one side, I make myself look like I’m trying to stay out of sight of the garage. Then I approach and ring the front door.

It takes two presses of the button before I hear movement inside.

Fuck.A woman answers, her face tightening at the sight of a stranger. Her presence may be a complication which could fuck up the plan. Then I notice the yellow/greenish signs of a healing black eye and wonder if maybe, it won’t.

She eyes me up and down and makes her own assumptions from the clothes I’m wearing. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong house. We didn’t call anyone out.”

“Is the man of the house home?” I lean forward and almost whisper, “You’ve got a problem.” I jerk my head toward the side of the house where the car is parked out of sight. Behind my back I cross my fingers, if he’s not, hopefully my brothers will find something to use as an excuse if it’s her that goes looking.

I’m dressed as a mechanic, maybe she thinks I spotted a puddle of oil under his vehicle, but whatever, she doesn’t seem suspicious.

Instead she half turns. “Malc? Someone for you.”

When he comes, she sidles away, giving a pointed glare to his back. She’s leaving him to my mercy, not that he’s going to get much of that.

“Who are you and what do you want?” he demands in an authoritative voice. The sound of someone used to getting his own way.

I motion with my finger against my lips. “There are three men, they look like they’re trying to get into your car.”

“What the hell?”

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