Page 13 of Holly's Christmas Biker

My heart is breaking a tiny bit because all I can think about is Rebel with these nameless women. Not that I would expect a man like him to be celibate or anything like that; he exudes virility which is attractive as hell.

“They handle things around the clubhouse, like running our bar, keeping the place clean, being available to the brothers, doing laundry, cooking, that sort of thing for a place to live and a spending allowance. Several are going to school for their GEDs or even a degree, which we encourage and pay for so that they don’t feel stuck in their role at the club. None will ever be a brother’s old lady, because that’s not typically done, but they’re all good women with reasons for why they’re doing what they do. The prospects do the really dirty work, however, until they prove they have what it takes to become a full-patch member in the club.”

“How long does that usually take?” I ask. It’s interesting to see that the fictional worlds I’ve read aren’t too far off from the actual truth.

“A year to eighteen months. We’re not into any illegal shit,” he swears before continuing, “but we still need to know that anyone prospecting has our backs if shit were to ever hit the fan.”

“What could possibly happen?” I question.

“Well, thereareclubs in the surrounding areas that aren’t like us, and they’re always interested in expanding their territories. Since many of them are into drug and gun running and we don’t want that sort of pipeline running through here, we make it known that we’ll defend our town and protect our people.”

“Can I thank you for sharing all that? I… Idohave an attraction toward you, Rebel, but I’ll be honest, I’m a little bit nervous for several reasons.”

“Will you break it down for me?” he asks.

I take a deep breath because he needs to know just how screwed up my head is thanks to Devin. “I met Devin when we were in middle school. He played on the football team, and I was a cheerleader. Sounds cliche but it’s true. I couldn’t believe that someone like him would want to date someone like me.”

“What does that mean?” There’s a slight growl in his tone which sends shivers coursing through me.

“Devin lived in town with his family while I lived out here in the country. There was a difference between us country kids and the townies as we called them. I got picked on a lot, which my grammy taught me to ignore. Anyhow, we started dating then, as much as two thirteen-year-olds who don’t drive can, that is,” I say, giggling a little, “and even though I thought it wouldn’t last, we stayed together and dated through high school. I got pregnant with Mina right after we graduated, but Pappy wouldn’t give us his permission to get married. Instead, we moved into a guest house on his family’s property.”

He nods his head in understanding, then asks, “And since he died earlier in the year, you probably haven’t dated, right?”

My voice is small when I confess. “No. Between dealing with the girls and having to move, it’s been the last thing on my mind.” Suddenly, I decide to lay it all out for him, since we’re both big on being honest. “Truthfully, I was in the process of telling him I was going to leave. We were engaged by then, but he wasn’t the same man as he was years ago.”

“How so?” he asks, reaching out to take my hand in his.

Outside of my grandparents and the girls hugging me, as well as the occasional hug from Marnie whenever she gets excited about something at work, I don’t have a lot of human touch these days. His is soothing, which eases some of the tension that’s been slowly building in me and gives me the courage to continue.

“It started out with little stuff, like comments about what I was wearing or how I looked, and he always played it off that he was just teasing, you know? But after I had Mina, if he got mad, he might push me down, or throw something. Any time he lost a job, it was because of me, not something he did, of course.”

“Why didn’t you tell your grandparents?” Now, he’s got our fingers laced together, his thumb gently running over the back side of mine.

“I started to tell them a million times, and I think they may have suspected because I stopped wearing short-sleeve shirts to cover up the bruises and fingerprint marks. And sometimes, when he kicked me, he would crack my ribs so I would walk stiffly. When Pappy saw that, he asked what was going on and I told him I tripped over a hay bale in the barn while I was getting feed for the livestock. I was so ashamed, Rebel. I thought I had what my grandparents had, y’know? Only, I didn’t, and once my rose-colored glasses were ripped off when Ruby was born, I started making plans.”

“What happened after Ruby was born, sweetheart?” he softly asks, moving closer to me without ever letting go of my hand.

“That son-of-a-bitch beat the shit out of her because she ‘couldn’t give him what he needed’ then left her lying there on the floor, bleeding and in pain, with a newborn in the bassinetand a toddler in the crib, went out and got drunk before spending the next two weeks with as many women as possible,” my pappy says, his anger emanating through the room. “What I want to know is who in the hell are you and why are you holding Holly’s hand?”

I turn to face the man who raised me and take a deep, cleansing breath. I had to call them that night, and they didn’t understand why I didn’t just leave right then. I should’ve but I couldn’t burden them with a crying newborn as well as a busy toddler, so instead, I started plotting and planning. Before I can say anything, however, Rebel stands and addresses my pappy.

CHAPTER

SIX

Rebel

“I’m Jonah Sherman, sir, but most folks call me Rebel,” I tell him, holding out my hand. “As far as who I am, I’m a former police officer and when I retired, several of my other first responder friends and I started the Steel Raiders Motorcycle Club. I’m the club president. I met Holly back in October at the grocery store, saw she had two little girls and invited her to the Halloween festival that our club puts on every year, then found out she’s bartending part-time at the bar the club owns.”

“Paul Atchison,” her grandfather says in introduction, shaking my hand with a firm grip. He then looks at Holly and says, “If you’d let me pay that hellhound heifer, you wouldn’t be burning the candle at both ends, Holly.”

“Pappy, you know why I feel I need to do it,” she replies. “It’s not forever, it’s just for a minute.”

He chuckles then says, “Gonna use my own teachings against me, I see.”

She grins while nodding. “Absolutely. And I can see you have questions, Rebel, about why I didn’t leave then and there. Grammy and Pappy wanted me to, but I didn’t want to invade their lives with a newborn and a toddler.”

“Wouldn’t have been an invasion, sweetheart, and you know it,” Paul retorts.

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