Page 11 of Under the Mistletoe

“And if we manage to get the goods?”

Maltese kept his voice low and steady as he answered, "You’ll get a significant cut—one that would make your troubles worthwhile."

I could see the wheels turning in Prez’s head. He was weighing the risks and rewards, and things weren’t balancing out. I could tell that he was about to tell Maltese to fuck off, and he saw it, too. Noting the look of doubt in Prez’s eyes, Maltese added, “We both stand to gain a lot from this venture.”

Trust was a rare commodity in our line of work, and while Maltese said all the right things, he worked for the cartel. That alone made him untrustworthy. Prez knew that. We all knew that, and we were all waiting for him to tell him to fuck off. Instead, he said, “We’ll think it over and get back to you.”

Maltese nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I look forward to hearing from you.”

After Maltese left, Dad ordered us all to go home while he and the other officers mulled things over with Cotton.

The time had come for us to see what they’d decided.

When I pulled up at the clubhouse, Savage and several of the others had already started gathering in the conference room, and they all looked pretty tense. I felt the same. Swiping diamonds from another cartel was risky, even for us. There were too many moving pieces—too many ways for it to go wrong.

I didn’t like it, and I had a feeling Dad wasn’t thrilled either, but we had to hear him out. Business demanded it. I took my seat at the table, and the silence in the room was deafening. I glanced around the room and caught a few wary eyes. Seemedthere were several who were just as concerned as me. Curious to know what he was thinking, I leaned over to Rooster and asked, “Whatcha thinking?”

“That this guy should go smoke a dog-turd in hell,” he scoffed. “I don’t wanna get tied up with these guys. I just hope your father agrees.”

“Me too.”

Dad had only been president for a few months, but he’d proven himself as sergeant-at-arms—and even before, when he was just a brother. The brothers knew that he could follow in Cotton’s footsteps with little struggle, and he had. In just a short time, he’d made some tough calls that left us standing even stronger, and I had no doubt that today would be no different.

His face was set in stone as he entered the room. He walked straight to the head of the table and stood there for several moments, weighing his thoughts before speaking. When he met my eyes, I felt the weight of everything he carried—the club, the men, our lives, and our futures.

He looked over to Savage and Wrath, then back to us before announcing, “We’re passing on the offer.”

His voice was hard and final, leaving no room for questions, and I couldn’t have been more relieved. And I wasn’t the only one. Stitch leaned back in his seat and sighed, “Well, Merry Christmas to me.”

“Ah, come on, brother.” Wrath smirked. “You didn’t really think we were going for it, did you?”

“You guys were pretty convincing.” We could all hear the pride in Stitch’s voice as he added, “But I know why you did what you did, and it was a smart move. Last thing we need is some smug cartel thinking we snubbed our noses at ‘em.”

“Exactly.” Dad cleared his throat before saying, “Besides, Cotton has some possible opportunities for us to discuss after the holidays.”

A few nods and murmurs of agreement circled the table. Maltese wasn’t going to be happy, but the decision wasn’t up for debate. It was the only call that made sense. Dad collected his things and announced, "Meeting adjourned.”

We all stood, and one by one, we started to filter out of the room. As we started for the parking lot, Rooster let out a breath. “He had me worried there for a minute.”

“You and me both.”

“Where you headed?”

“Back to the house,” I answered. “I’ve gotta finish some work on my truck. What about you?”

“Meeting Maggie and the kids for dinner. Hoping I can talk ‘em into going for burgers instead of pizza. I love Dano’s, but it seems like it’s all we eat anymore.”

“I get it, but I gotta say, it’s hard to beat Dano’s, brother.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they keep saying.” He chuckled, then kicked his leg over the seat of his bike. “Catch ya later.”

I continued over to my bike and followed him out the front gate. With the Maltese situation out of the way, I was ready to get home and settle in for the night. I eased out onto the main drag, and it wasn’t long before I was engulfed in darkness.

I always loved a night ride. It was one of the best ways to clear my head, but tonight, it barely made a dent. No matter how fast I drove or how many hard curves I leaned into, my mind kept drifting back to Beck. She’d been gone for so long, and I was still finding it hard to believe she was back.

I could still remember the day she left. It was mid-August—a time when the days were long and hot, and the nights were cool and filled with endless possibilities. She came by the clubhouse to tell everyone goodbye. Her bags were loaded up in the back of her little SUV, and she looked happy—really happy.

We hugged, and I told her to make us proud, never revealing how much I wanted her to stay. I stood there in the parking lotand watched as she drove away, all the while thinking that it wouldn’t be long before she would be back.

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