Page 25 of Oh Holy Knight

Chapter Eight

Enzo

After my daddecided Christmas was on and that we would be celebrating at the bar, he went home to Maria and smoothed things over with her. Me and the guys got back to work and even though we still have a good three days left on the job that we probably won’t get to until the day after Christmas, I can happily report that as of this morning, Maria’s couch is back inside the house.

A win for the Scotto men.

However, because I’ve been working day and night on the renovations, I haven’t gotten any Christmas shopping done, that’s why I’m in this Godforsaken mall on Christmas Eve with all these other assholes who waited to the absolute last-minute to shop. It’s fucking chaos. Next year everyone is getting cash.

To be fair, half the people on my list are getting cash this year. The only one’s I’m actually shopping for are Anna, my mom, Patty, Sophie and Maria—she’s getting something extra special. It’s only fair considering I tore her house upside down. Something that screams, I’m sorry your house looks like a warzone, please don’t kill me with your frying pan.

But what do you get the woman who literally has everything?

The enforcements I brought with me are absolutely no help either.

“What about this?” Bash questions, holding up a glove warmer. “I’m not sure what it does, but that guy over there grabbed one for his lady friend.”

“I think you should get Mama Leone this,” Riggs says, holding up a fucking Santa Claus negligee. “It’s a twofer.”

“What’s a twofer?” Nico asks, ignoring the fact he’s suggesting I buy our stepmother a fucking teddy.

“ A two for one special,” Riggs explains. “Not only does he get Mama Leone a present, but I’m pretty sure you can cross your old man off the list with this one too. It’s red too! Just like that story, you know, the one with the wolf.”

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Nico asks.

“That’s the one,” he confirms. “A little role playing never hurt anyone.”

I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Like, literally.

“I bet they can use some spice in the bedroom after all this,” he continues.

“That’s if they can find the bedroom,” Bash chimes in. “There is a couch in the hallway that leads to it.”

Nico takes the negligee from Riggs and hangs it back on the rack.

“You are not getting our stepmother any kind type of lingerie,” he says as he pulls out his phone to check the time. “Better wrap this shit up, Enzo, we still have to stop off at the bar and load the car before we head over to Frankie’s house to deliver the presents to the kids.”

The original goal for Frankie’s house was to help the teenagers in our community stay out of trouble, but we’ve expanded our efforts and we now strive to help those suffering from mental health issues, as well as addiction. Since Frankie’s House opened Nico, Carrie and I have made it our tradition to bring presents to all the kids on Christmas Eve—kinda like what the Knights did last night when they delivered gifts to the unfortunate kids stuck in the system. The only difference is we don’t ride Harley’s or dress up as Santa.

However, this year we’re all a little more stoked. Back in March we opened a wing for battered woman and children. It’s still getting off the ground, but we have about six women currently staying at the center. Six too many if you ask me—no woman should live in fear, but you’d be surprised how many actually do. Anyway, Carrie made baskets for the women, filling them with personal items she thought they’d need, plush robes and soft slippers.

We got our work cut out for us and if we don’t get a move on soon, we’ll be late for dinner and I think it’s safe to say no one wants to hear Dad bitch any more than we already have.

Sighing, I comb fingers roughly through my hair, my eyes meeting Nico’s.

“Let’s go back to the jewelry department,” I say. “There’s a Michael Kors watch I saw that I think she’ll like.”

He gives me a jerk of his chin and rounds up the glove warming biker and the roleplaying nutcase. Knowing they’re following, I start for the jewelry counter. I don’t make it very far, though, because a security guard suddenly bumps into me. I’m about to tell him to watch where the fuck he’s walking, when I watch him come to a skidding halt behind some woman. He grabs her arm and she swings around to face him, dropping all the packages she’s carrying.

“Hey!” she shouts. “Do you know how long it took me to arrange those things in my arms? When did you stop giving bags to people when they purchase things?”

I know that voice.

In fact, I’ve spent many sleepless nights replaying it over and over inside my head.

Bypassing the jewelry counter, I ignore Nico, Riggs and Bash who call my name and follow the sound of the voice, finding the woman I met six months ago.

---