Page 142 of Ruin
Lucian comes back over, handing me a cup full of something that looks like egg nog.
“What the hell is this?” I ask.
“Coquito. Anastacia made it.”
I smell it and take a sip. It’s… not so bad.
“What’s in it?”
“Alcohol, that’s all that shouldmatter.”
I smirk and Lucian puts his arm around me, pulling me to his side.
“Since everyone is here, I think we should get started, yeah?” Coyote says.
Everyone agrees loudly, and then chaos ensues as the gifts are passed out to everyone. There is no order nor organization, and I want to tear my hair out.
Lucian and I find a place to sit with our pile of gifts and start opening them.
When he barks out a laugh, I can’t help but look at what he’s opened. He holds up the shirt to his chest.
It saysDaddy.
“Well, I wonder who got that,” I say, eying Grizz from across the room.
He’s holding back his laughter.
“I like it,” Lucian says, pulling it on over the shirt he has on now.
I laugh, shaking my head.
After about twenty minutes, all the gifts are open and everyone is sharing what they got. I get to my feet and go over to the food, because I’m starving. It doesn’t take long for everyone else to follow suit, and a line forms behind me.
Spam and the prospects were in here all morning and afternoon cooking all this food, and it smells and looks delicious.
Things have been good. Everything with the club is coming together, we’re getting along and building trust. Things are running smoothly, and when the spring comes, we’re going tofigure out the border situation with the Iron Runners. Winter came quickly this year, and we just didn’t have the time to figure it out.
“Having fun?” Kaison asks, coming to stand beside me.
“Fun? No.”
He chuckles, scooping potato salad into his mouth. I find Lucian across the room. He’s having a conversation with Tank. Not sure about what, but I like seeing him interact with the guys.
For the longest time, I thought I didn’t want to be a part of this club. Turns out I was wrong. They are my family, and like most things, it’s what you make of it.
Nothing is perfect, of course. I have a lot to work on still, but I’m going in the right direction. Things are looking up. It’s a late night with a lot of alcohol involved, so most of the guys end up staying at the bunks in the bar. Lucian swears he’s fine to drive because he didn’t drink that much, so we head home.
I’m ready to be rewarded for coming here at all, because I didn’t want to.
When the truck starts slowing down, I say, “You see a deer or something?”
He ignores me, then takes a turn into what looks like a pile of snow.
“What the hell?” I shout, grabbing onto the bar to hold on.
Turns out it isn’t a pile of snow, but a road.
The road that leads to the park, that is somehow plowed—along with half of the parking lot.
