I turn away before I can change my mind, before I can reach for him again and forget why I shouldn’t walk away.
The wind bites my face as I walk, but it feels clean.Real.
The lights of Sno-Globes glow behind me, blurred through snow.The music inside starts up again, something soft, something hopeful.I hum along, quiet, a little broken, but still here.
Christmas in Evervale keeps spinning, pretending.But me?
I’m done pretending.
Chapter 17
Humbug
By the time I roll back into the compound, the snow’s gone to ash and the whole damn town’s humming with my sins.
Word travels fast in Evervale.Faster in the club.
When I park, Frost’s waiting under the awning with a smoke already lit for me.He doesn’t speak at first, just looks at me, eyes cutting through the dark like a priest waiting for a confession.
“Whole bar heard,” he says finally.
“Yeah.”
“Your woman got more guts than sense.”
“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”
He hands me the cigarette.I take it, drag deep, feel the burn settle in my lungs like something earned.
“She quit her job,” he adds.
“I know.”
“You proud of that?”
“I’m proud of her.”
He grunts, flicks ash into the snow.“You better be ready, brother.Prez is mad as hell.Trina keeps runnin’ her mouth to anyone who’ll listen, and now the sheriff’s sniffin’ around the club again.You brought heat down.”
The clubhouse looks smaller tonight.Quieter.Like it’s holding its breath.
Lil’ Nick waits inside, arms folded, face red from cold or fury, probably both.“Trina called me,” he says before I can even close the door.“She’s filing charges, Humbug.Says you assaulted her.”
“Never touched her.”
“Tells me you’re a danger to the club’s reputation.”
I almost laugh.“Am I supposed to cry?”
Nick slams his fist on the table.“You don’t get it, son!You’re family here, and family don’t burn down their own house!”
I meet his stare, steady.“Maybe the house was already on fire.”
He curses under his breath, pacing.“You think the Executioners can survive bad press?You think our brothers can ride free when the whole town thinks we’re out kidnappin’ bartenders?”
“Nobody kidnapped a bartender,” I growl.“She walked into my storm on her own.”
“That’s not what her boyfriend told the cops.”His voice cracks like a whip.“You used the colors to chase a woman who had somethin’ to lose.”
