Papa Noel: Holiday RBMC Tonopah, NV

by Nikki Landis

  Retribution was coming. Both the Scorpions and the Russians were in for a rude awakening. Grim was still working through the details but we had a plan. The disrespect to our club wouldn’t go unpunished.

  My jaw locked as I nodded my head and squeezed his shoulder once before releasing it. “I’d say I’m sorry for the bullshit that went down but it’s more than that. Those Russian assholes are going to go down. It’s only a matter of time. You’ll get the vengeance you seek, Shadow.”

  No one ever called him by his road name. We mostly proved a point and referred to all of them as prospect. You had to earn the patch and the membership in the Tonopah chapter of the Royal Bastards MC. Minimum requirement was a year, but we didn’t accept a new member into the club until they completed the Devil’s Ride. Nothing was quite like that vicious ride out into the desert. Devil was a sick and twisted son of a bitch and he was the one who ultimately decided the members who patched in. Grim was the pres and his vote held the most sway. Of course, we always brought that decision to table during church.

  “Mr. Riggs,” he began and fuck if that didn’t make me feel old, “I got to be the one to gut that Russian fucker. I want his blood on my hands. I need him to see my face before he dies. Got special plans for that rapist.”

  Snorting with both a little pride and dark humor, I shook my head. Easy words to say before the day you took your first life. After that, killin’ was never simple. “Bloodlust is a funny thing, son. Give into it far enough and you’ll get what you want. Feed it too much and that monster will suck you into a black hole you can’t ever escape.” I should know. Been down that scarlet road plenty of times. “Ask Rael and he can tell you the same. Don’t forget about Solonik and Rancid and all the bullshit that’s happened. And remember,” I continued, “You’ll have to get behind the pres. For what Resnikov did to his ol’ lady and her family, there’s gonna be hell to pay. Our Reapers want justice and they’re gonna get it.”

  Shadow made a face and kicked at another rock. “She was my girl. I should have the right to kill the man that took her from me.”

  He was right but the pres had the final say in that. “I get what you’re sayin’. You just need to remember no matter what you’re feeling there’s a code and way things work. Grim is the pres. It’s his club and he runs shit the way he sees fit to do it. Be careful that your hatred and need for retribution don’t overstep your place. Gotta do what you’re told, kid. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “He won’t.” Rael stood behind us with his arms crossed over his chest. Crazy fucker had all his skull makeup in black and white smeared on his face as well as red contacts in his eyes. Guess he wanted to prove a point tonight although who knew what the fuck it was. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”

  “You do that,” I replied with a chuckle. “Got some shit to do.”

  Rael gave me one of his demented smiles. “Sure thing, Papa.” He winked in my direction. “Saw that well-fucked little blonde on her way out the of the Crossroads. You might need a nap after all that exercise, old man.”

  I flipped him off as I headed for my bike. “Kiss my sexy ass, Rael.”

  He made smoochy noises as I straddled my Harley, and I shook my head. Two minutes later I was heading down the road, knees in the cool breeze, and the plethora of stars in the Nevada skyline glittering above my head.

  Life was simple for me. I lived one moment to the next. Kept myself busy and worked on my bike when I was home. Most of the time I was either helping out Grim and the club and or working as a volunteer for Hope’s Refuge.

  When I pulled up in my driveway, I spotted an oversized truck a few houses down the street. New neighbors must be moving in. I hit the remote for the garage door and it lifted as I rumbled inside and killed the engine. Standing up, I pulled my smokes and the lighter from my pocket and lit up, inhaling deeply into my lungs as the brisk night settled into the cold interior of the garage.

  I was nearly done with my cig when my cell began vibrating. Tossing down the butt, I made sure it wasn’t burning anymore and stomped out the cinders with my boot. Reaching inside my leather, I pulled the device free of my cut to glance at the screen.

  “What you got, Mercy?” I asked as I swiped across the screen and answered.

  “New arrival for Hope’s Refuge. Ghost status.”

  Damn. Another domestic violence or rape victim. “Lily’s Hope?”

  “No. Sparrow not Lotus.”

  Whew. I hated hearing about rape victims. The DV victims were bad enough. No woman should live in fear or be at the mercy of a man who only tore her down and made her feel worthless. I wasn’t alone in thinking that way. One of my best friends knew the horrors firsthand. Murder had a hell of a past and the women in his life had been avenged for the crimes perpetrated against them. I’d have done the same in his position. Mercy was no stranger to that info either since he’d started Hope’s Refuge and knew Murder’s story.

  “Give me the contact info. I’ll establish connection.”

  “Good. I’ll text the info when we hang up. Appreciate your help, Avenger. We’ll be in touch.”

  He ended the call and I headed inside, grabbing a beer as my rottweiler Savage barreled into my legs and nearly knocked my old ass to the ground.

  “Easy, Savage. I ain’t been gone that long.”

  Setting down my beer, I reached into the cabinet and grabbed his favorite, opening the can as I smirked in his direction and poured the expensive wet dog food onto the half bowl of dry he had left. Once the contents were spilled inside, he began slurping it up like I hadn’t fed him in days. Gravy covered his lips and snout as he gobbled up the choice cuts of beef. Damn dog was spoiled.

  “Better slow down and enjoy it. I’m not giving you more tomorrow. Gives you the shits even if you do like the stuff.”

  Savage didn’t care as he wolfed down the food and then his tongue fell out of his mouth, drooling and happy as he panted in my direction.

  “No begging,” I replied sternly.

  He barked a few times and then swung his head toward the bowl.

  “No. No begging, Savage.”

  Whining, he lowered to the ground on his belly and started scooching closer, pathetically blinking up at me with those dark puppy eyes. Who the fuck taught my dog this shit?

  “No, Savage.”

  His whining increased as he approached and then lifted his head, resting it against my thigh as I leaned against the sink and tried to enjoy my beer. Fuckin’ dog.

  A few deep barks filled the air and I ignored them, tipping back the long neck bottle, and finishing off the beer. When I didn’t acknowledge him, Savage began pawing at my legs. He whined again and I looked down, only to catch his tongue flapping out of his mouth again.

  Fucking hell.

  Sighing, I opened the cabinet and pulled out another can of the food. “You make me out to be a liar, you shit.”

  Savage perked up when he heard the drawer open and I pulled the can opener out again. I only gave him half and then dumped the rest in a container, tossing it inside the fridge.

  “Don’t you dare whine again,” I warned, shaking a finger at him. “Savage my ass. You’re such a wuss and pushover when it comes to food. If someone tried to break in, you’d roll over if they offered a snack.”

  Savage ate the contents in just a few bites and then slurped up water from his other bowl. Droplets went flying from his snout as he shook out his dark coat of hair. Half of it splashed on me.

  Ungrateful mutt.

  I watched as he exited the kitchen and went straight to the back door, slipping outside to take a shit and completely dismiss me after I gave him what he wanted. Fuck. Even my damn dog used me.

  And everyone wondered why I was such a grumpy old biker.

  Shaking my head, I headed upstairs and into my bedroom to take a shower. My phone vibrated on the dresser and I glanced at the text. The new contact number for the sparrow. I’d send my message and greeting once I had washed off the grime
from the day.

  Before the night was over, I needed another beer.

  The day had been long and exhausting but worth it.

  Noah was finally asleep and tucked into a new twin bed in his room. Everything was new or like new and I didn’t mind the fact that the appliances weren’t all straight from a store. They were mine. Donated, but mine to use and keep. An entire house for the two of us with rent paid for an entire year. Long enough for me to find a job and save some money.

  Wow.

  Tears filled my eyes and slipped down my cheeks. My chest heaved and I choked back a sob. I didn’t lift a finger to wipe them away. There was a reason for that. These were tears of gratitude and awe of the generosity of total strangers.

  Never in my life had anyone helped me without personal gain. I didn’t know how to take all of the goodness being passed along. This was a bit scary and hard as hell to trust those who placed me and my son in a new home, moved us in, and helped us travel far away from danger but I knew I couldn’t let the past take over my present.

  My son was depending on me and this would be the best Christmas he ever had. One free from violence, frightening nights, yelling, and watching his mother suffer through each and every day with fresh bruises. The holidays were only a couple of months away and I needed time to make sure everything was ready. It was probably wrong to smile but I dared to let the corners of my mouth lift as I picked up the cup of hot tea and sat by the front window, gazing out into the night and the bright moon surrounded by hundreds of twinkling stars.

  Tonopah, Nevada was small and perfectly suited us. I loved the idea that we were hidden from the world and tucked into the desert, far from Texas and the memories that would probably always haunt us in our nightmares. Noah had developed night terrors over the last week. I knew it had everything to do with the fact that our lives had been completely uprooted and he didn’t have any stability.

  That would all change now.

  I unpacked the final box only an hour earlier and glanced around the house. It was nice, clean, and spacious. The only thing missing was a personal touch. I managed to have duplicates printed of all my favorite pictures of Noah and consistently hid them in the pillowcase beside the fireplace. Those bricks stayed cool despite the fire that was occasionally lit. I also had a stash in an envelope in my purse of the ones that were larger in size.

  Once I added Noah’s pictures and a few of us together, it would feel more like home. When I found a job, I could add things here and there that we both liked. One room I wouldn’t have to change was the one that belonged to Noah. Before we arrived, the ghost asked what Noah wanted for décor.

  “The Mandalorian!” he’d shouted. “Baby Yoda too. That show is awesome!”

  It was Noah’s favorite. I recorded episodes so we could watch them together when Chet passed out drunk and we had peace. The first thing Noah did when the truck pulled onto the driveway of our new place was hop out and run inside, finding the room that had been prepared for him.

  His cry of surprise and joy would remain locked in my heart for a long time. I had to blink back tears when I saw the look of shock and pure awe that brought a smile so wide to his cute little face that I had to hold back my own reaction.

  The room was completely decorated – comforter and bed set in a Mandalorian theme, colored walls and a border that matched along with curtains, a huge plush baby Yoda on his bed, bookshelf with Star Wars themed books geared toward his age group. I could go on and on. My heart nearly skipped a beat when he threw his arms around my waist and squealed, lifting his head as I wrapped him in a hug.

  “Mama, this is amazing.”

  “You’re right,” I whispered, holding him tight. “It’s the most amazing room I’ve ever seen.”

  Noah let go and skipped inside, dropping the backpack that had every belonging he owned stuffed within. I couldn’t take more than that from the house or Chet would have noticed. There was a locker I’d placed the two backpacks that contained everything special I wanted to take with us. In the end, it wasn’t much. Things were just things and easily replaceable. At least what we left behind. Pictures, Noah’s baby book, identification, important documents, etc. were brought with us besides a few toys and clothes for Noah. The ghost retrieved them before we left Texas.

  I sighed softly as I finished my tea. The house was quiet, and I nearly closed my eyes, exhaustion finally creeping in. I was just starting to nod off when my new phone chirped with an incoming text.

  Unknown: This is ghost. I’m your new contact. How are you settling in?

  Sparrow: Good. My son is sleeping. Unpacked the last box a few minutes ago.

  Ghost: Nice. Take a little time to adjust. I’m sure you’re tired.

  Sparrow: Yes. I can’t thank you enough.

  Swallowing hard, I didn’t know how to say with words how grateful I was for all the help I’d been given.

  Ghost: No problem at all. We do this because it’s right and we want to help.

  Sparrow: You’re all angels. I’ll never forget this.

  Ghost: Someday when you can, pay it forward. That’s all we want.

  Sparrow: I will.

  Ghost: Use this number if you ever need anything. I will keep you in my contacts.

  Sparrow: Thank you.

  Relieved, I knew I had someone to call in case of an emergency.

  Ghost: No problem. Goodnight.

  Sparrow: Goodnight.

  When the conversation ended, I glanced down at the lavender colored iPhone that was purchased in full and service paid for a year. The only thing I had to pay for was groceries and toiletries. There were no worries though. Service for was set up in my new name and my identification was completed along with Noah’s. We kept our first names, but the last name had changed to protect our identity. We were now Bess and Noah Parker. I’d been Elizabeth prior to now and I never wanted to be called by that name again.

  The next morning, I sat down to breakfast with my son. He was scarfing down eggs, bacon, and toast like he hadn’t eaten in days.

  “Hey, Booga. What’s the rush? You’re going to choke.”

  Noah giggled at the familiar nickname and swallowed. “Sorry, mama. I want to explore outside. Did you see all the paths and cactus and tumbleweed? I bet I can find a lizard to bring back home. Maybe an iguana.” His eyes lit up. “Can I keep a snake?”

  I nearly spit out all my coffee. “No,” I replied sternly as his expression faltered, “but I might consider a lizard.”

  Ugh. Why didn’t someone tell me boys were so dirty and gross? Or course I loved Noah, so it wasn’t that bad, but I was never having snakes, rats, or spiders in the house. Noah wanted a tarantula last year. No. Way.

  “Remember we’re going to enroll you in school tomorrow. Don’t go far.”

  Noah finished his plate and then stood. Before he left the table, he gave me a lopsided grin. “Can I be excused?”

  “Yes. Don’t forget to brush your teeth before you go outside.”

  He dropped the dishes into the sink, and I shook my head as he rushed from the kitchen. Five minutes later he was out the door, running down the driveway and off on an adventure.

  A part of me wanted to run after him and force Noah to stay indoors. He was my entire world and if something ever happened to him, I didn’t know what I would do. I supposed most mothers felt that way but coming from a home filled with violence meant I was extra cautious and protective. I didn’t want him to live his life afraid of the world. He needed the freedom to experience life and I had to let him, even if I hated watching him run outside and out of sight.

  I cleaned the kitchen and flopped down on the couch in the living room. The house was spotless and there wasn’t a thing for me to do now that all of the boxes were empty. Not that the boxes contained my things. They were all bought with gift cards.

  I still couldn’t believe the ghost dropped us at a motel about halfway here from Texas and had us make a list of everything we needed. He’d gone to a local Walmart
and bought toiletries and simple household items and let me pick out what I wanted for bedroom and bathroom décor. Part of me had considered running when he left us alone and I’m sure there were women rescued who’d had the same idea and acted on the impulse. It was scary to place your fate with someone you didn’t know. It was only the confirmation from my initial contact and her assurance that the ghost was legit that kept me in the hotel. That, and the fact that he knew the exact secret phrase that I’d made up with my contact.

  When the ghost returned, my jaw dropped at the numerous bags he brought inside our room. He’d gotten most everything we would need for a couple of weeks and then handed over the remaining gift cards. I would be able to go shopping on my own to use the rest. There were still hundreds of dollars left. It would take care of the grocery bill long enough for me to figure out what I was going to do next.

  The only thing I didn’t have was a car. When the ghost returned today, he was picking up the moving truck and dropping off a vehicle at the same time. I tried not to think of the vast amount of money that was being spent and who was handing over their hard-earned cash. All for a silly young woman who fell in love with the wrong guy and then was stupid enough to think a baby would make things better. I had zero regrets with Noah, but I did wish I had chosen a better man to father my son.

  My phone made that odd chirping sound to signal an incoming message and I sat forward, heart nearly stopping until I saw the ghost and his text. Even if I now lived states away from Texas, I still didn’t think I’d ever stop looking over my shoulder for Chet or expecting his name to pop up on my screen.

  Ghost: Hi. Forgot to mention this last time. I’ll be checking in on day 1, 3, 7, 14 and then months 1 thru 6. Just to make sure the transition is going smooth.

  Sparrow: That’s sweet and I admit I feel less lonely knowing I’ve got someone in case of an emergency.