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They call me Papa.
A tough and rugged old biker that's never been tamed by any woman.
I live by the code of my club and stand by it.
No matter what.
Hell, I'd die for my brothers and the MC we fought so hard to build.
In fact, I nearly did.
Loss has tarnished my soul and left me a bitter man.
I’ll never be anything else.
When a young kid goes missing and his single mother shows up on my doorstep,
I don't hesitate to go in guns blazing.
But this rescue mission isn't like any other.
Torn between duty, loyalty, and my selfish heart –
I'll have to make a decision that impacts more than just my own life.
This Christmas I'm bringing gifts . . .
And it’s a Noel full of hidden surprises.
Hands shaking, I bent down by the fireplace in the living room and found the familiar spot near the floorboards on the righthand side. The hearth was cold to the touch but that was only because I wasn’t allowed to keep it going more than a few pieces of wood at a time and when Chet was in a charitable mood. Didn’t happen often. Chilly air seemed to originate from deep inside the chimney and I sighed, glancing behind me to ensure I was still alone before I exposed my carefully hidden spot.
My heart was pounding as I carefully pried the loose brick away with my fingertips until I could pull it free. The heavy coarse texture felt strange in my palms and I paused, listening for any indication that Chet was awake. His thick, deep snores echoed throughout the small house and seemed to hover in the air, a reminder that my time was not only limited but precarious at best. If he woke up . . . I didn’t want to think what could happen.
Inside the hollow hole inside the wall was a burner phone. I scraped my fingers against the concrete depths but hardly cared as the device slipped free and I hastily shoved it into the pocket of my pajama pants. Reaching deeper inside, I felt around for the cotton pillowcase that held the cash I’d managed to scrape together over the last six months. I purposely never used plastic. Made way too much noise. The cotton was gripped in in my fist as I felt the familiar bundle that represented freedom and long months of preparation.
As I briefly clutched the bundle to my chest, I inhaled a shaky breath. Now that the moment had finally arrived, I was near to completely ruining everything by freaking out. Nervous, I picked up my handbag and shoved the cash inside, lifting the long leather strap over my head and draping the bag across my waist where it rested against my right hip.
Lifting the brick, I placed the heavy block back into its place. Chet would never know this was how I obtained my freedom. Months of shorting the grocery allotment and other bills just enough to gain a few dollars here and there. I practically starved myself to make it happen. A year of setting aside a tiny amount o
f my paycheck and putting it into a separate account in another bank under a fake name. I’d opened it using an I.D. I obtained from an acquaintance I met by chance. A part of me wanted to gloat but it was far too early to be congratulating myself.
Chet snorted in his sleep and choked, nearly swallowing his own tongue before his snores resumed. I supposed it was too much to ask that he succeeded. Sweat broke out on my forehead and my entire body stilled until I knew for sure that he was still in bed. As the quiet minutes proved I was alone, I rose slowly and headed to the bottom of the stairs, watching the landing above as my palms grew sweaty and I nearly dropped the cell.
Powering on the phone, I sent the text to the contact who was expecting the message tonight.
Sparrow: ready to leave the nest
Ghost: ogre is out?
Sparrow: yes
Ghost: sparrow’s baby bird?
Sparrow: ready
Ghost: 5 minutes
Sparrow: ready to fly
I made sure the phone was on vibrate and placed it back in my pocket. Beneath my pajamas I wore jeans and a t-shirt. I picked up my coat and paused, listening again as there was only silence. I heard a grunt and then more snores. My heart was sure to beat out of my chest as I headed into my son’s room. He was on the ground floor while Chet and I slept upstairs. I’d done that on purpose years ago to keep Noah away from the violence and loud noises.
Noah had slept in his clothes too. I’d dressed him in footie pajamas that zipped up and over to hide what was beneath. He thought it was a game. I knew it would help him stay warm and provide extra protection against the cooler night air.
Slipping inside his room, I approached the bed and smiled. His thick, dark brown hair hung over his forehead with a wayward curl and the innocent smile that lingered on his lips proved he dreamed of something fun. Love blossomed in my chest. I’d do anything for Noah and tonight proved I’d risk my own life to keep him safe.
My hand rested against his cheek and I whispered his name. “Noah.”
He didn’t stir and I was glad to skip his questions. The kid slept like a rock and once he was out for the night, he hardly ever stirred until morning. I stood and slipped on my coat, zipping it up over my purse. Carefully, I lifted Noah from the mattress, and he wrapped around my body, draping over my chest as his cheek rested on my shoulder. At nearly eight years old, he was far heavier than I anticipated but I didn’t have to walk far beyond the house before the ghost would arrive.
This was the scariest part.
I crept to the door of his room and stayed hidden from sight. Fear crept up my spine as I waited for what seemed like hours for Chet to make some kind of noise. The house was eerily silent. Even the old fridge didn’t make its usual humming noises. Noah mumbled in his sleep and I nearly panicked until he said “Mama” and fell back to sleep. I could see the front door from where I stood. Freedom beckoned and I moved a couple of steps, perspiration building under the heavy jacket and dampening my skin.
Chet made a few noises, farted loudly, and then I heard another deep snore.
Taking in a shaky breath, I bolted for the door as quickly as possible. When I reached the alarm system, I knew it was highly probably the beeps would wake Chet. The buttons were always loud. He liked the fact that it drew attention and had often mentioned he’d know the second I tried to leave him because the alarm would blare each and every single time I activated or shut it off.
My hand trembled as I paused, swallowing hard. The only way to do this was to do it fast and then get out as quick as possible. If I delayed too much, the space between the beeps would probably wake him up but if done fast maybe I had a chance. It was worth whatever effort or risk I had to take. Noah couldn’t stay here any longer. It wasn’t safe.
Pushing down fast, I entered the code and then reached for the door, swinging it open in a rush. The handle rattled as I closed the door with a soft click. I heard a noise, but I wasn’t sure if it was Chet waking up or another bodily function. I didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate. My feet sped along the ground as I moved as fast as I could, clutching Noah close as my heart thudded in my chest and I practically ran down the driveway and into the dark night. My steps were quick as I refused to glance behind me. I didn’t want to know if Chet was after us.
