STEEL
T’was a week before Christmas, and all through the clubhouse, there was no fucking silence, it’s goin’ off like a rocker’s penthouse!
The tinsel’s bein’ hung on the rafters with care, with the club girls’ asses hangin’ out their underwear.
I chuckle to myself as I make up a clubhouse Christmas poem. If I keep this shit up, I’ll be turning into my best mate, Techie. He’s one of the tech guys here at our club—the Satan’s Savages in Aldinga, South Australia. We haven’t always been here, Techie and me. But that’s a whole other story for another day. Let’s just say we have a long backstory, a crazy past which got us to where we are today. Not just us, Lookout, Jigsaw, and Crash as well. We’re Virginia natives, and we patched into Aldinga for a better life, a better club. Gator, Aldinga’s President, patched us in. Now not only are we fully privileged members, I’m their fucking VP, and we’ve made lives for ourselves here.
Fucking amazing lives.
Sure, we’ve lost men along the way, some good, some family, but those we still have around us are the best, and I wouldn’t want a better group of brothers at my fucking side.
The Satan’s Savages—we fear none, ride hard.
That’s our club motto. It’s what we strive for, it’s what we live by.
But even though we might be hard, callus bikers, we’re also family men. The Pres and I have families now, along with some of the other brothers. So this club, though back in the day we might have lived for the fight, we don’t actively go looking for it anymore. But if one comes our way, we don’t shy away from that shit.
“Squuueee.” A loud squeal hurtles out across the clubroom area, and I glance up from my thoughts to see two teacup pigs racing around the main room.
I let out a bellowing laugh while watching Techie chasing after them. Petunia, the older girl and the one wearing a pink tutu today, and Percival, the younger male who’s wearing a detective costume are roaring around, under the tables, knocking chairs over as they go. Boxes of decorations fly as Irina, one of the Russian twin club girls, is trying to decorate the tree. The pigs soar past Irina wrapping her legs in tinsel.
Techie races past as she mumbles something in her native dialect as she throws her hands in the air, and I stand back watching offering absolutely no assistance at all. Why would I? This is too much fucking fun to watch.
The pigs do another lap with Techie chasing after them, the room in utter chaos. “Come here you little shits before I fry you up in the pan for an afternoon delight,” Techie calls out lunging for Percival, but he takes a flying leap straight for the tree. Irina screams, jumping out the way as the tree sways. Techie skids to a halt, the tree starts to topple toward him as his eyes bug open wide. His arms stretch out to try and stop the falling tree, but he’s too late. The Christmas tree falls straight down on top of Techie landing him flat on his arse, with a horde of green foliage spread out on top of the mass of muscle and geeky bulk.
I burst out laughing as Irina throws her hands in the air. “Look what you’ve gone and done now, Techno, you fool. You clean this mess, ya. I no make tree again!” She storms off in a Russian huff, her long black hair swaying across her beautifully toned back as she saunters down the hall. I step on over to Techie underneath the giant, half decorated tree while he pushes it to the side off him still laying on the floor. His black-rimmed glasses sit crookedly on his chiselled face as he glares at me.
Suddenly, Percival, the little detective pig shows up from nowhere. His little pink and black spotted tongue slides out and licks right up the side of Techie’s face, leaving a trail of slobber against his stubbled jaw.
“For fuck’s sake, get off me, pig,” Techie grunts shoving Percival to the side. He huffs looking up to the ceiling. I roll my eyes knowing I’m about to be bombarded by one of Techie’s fact sessions.
“Did you know that Christmas can kill?”
I let out a laugh. “It fuckin’ what now?”
He shrugs. “Christmas kills. From December 25th to New Year’s Day, you’re more likely to die than at any other time during the year. And of many conditions such as respiratory problems, cancer, and heart disease.”
I furrow my brows. “Bullshit.”
He rolls on his side to face me propping his head up with his arm. “They tried to see if it was weather related in the USA, so they did a study in New Zealand in the summer focusing on 197,109 deaths due to cardiac issues in a twenty five year period, and found a rise in heart-related deaths during the holidays, a pattern similar to the USA. A 4.2 percent rise from Dec 25 to Jan 7… So, you see, Steel, my man… Christmas is a fucking murderer, only out to make you spend money on presents, and then it will kill you in your sleep.”
My brows pull together, and I shake my head. “You really have far too much damn time on your hands.”
He scoffs as the light clicking of heels lets me know the love of my life is approaching. I’d recognise that sound anywhere. I turn to see her vibrant red hair framing her stunning pale face as she strides in looking as gorgeous as ever with a little flowing skirt and a tight tank top. Her good girl attire hasn’t changed much since she came to the club, it’s just gotten a little more risqué. Where she would wear skirts below her knees, now they’re above and such. But she looks fucking perfect to me. I don’t need a slutty girl. I just need my girl.
My woman.
My wife.
My Old Lady.
My Flame.
She looks at Techie on the floor, next to him is the half-decorated tree that’s out for the count, and the two little pigs rummaging the floor for any breakfast scraps they can muster. Flame scrunches up her cute, little freckled face and scoffs. “Steel, don’t just stand there laughing, we have decorations to put up. It’s so close to Christmas, and it’s important for the kids, so get a wriggle on.” She claps her hands together twice like she does when she’s telling the kids to clean up their rooms. It reminds me of when we first met. Back when she was a kindergarten teacher and she was simply ‘Miss Willow’ to all her kids. She rushes off to do something—it makes me smile wide. Most brothers would hate their woman telling them what to do, me, I find it fucking hot.
I’ll thank her for that later.
I reach down giving Techie my hand as I hoist him off the floor. He dusts off some of the greenery from his cut as I continue to chuckle. We try to right the tree into position when an Amber alert starts to sound throughout the clubrooms.
Someone’s here.
Someone we don’t know.
