Page 6 of Tinsel & Chrome

Indi

To get the kids used to strangers, Indi started inviting the old ladies over, but just a few at a time. The kids absolutely adored Hallie’s two year old son, Kingsley, and Liria’s six week old daughter, Tempest.

As the Christmas party at the clubhouse got closer, they introduced the kids to some of Chaos’ MC brothers as well. The party itself was changed a bit to accommodate young children so Darby and Lorcan would be comfortable.

One of Indi’s favorite things about their annual Christmas party was the Secret Santa gift exchange. She had it on good authority that everyone had gotten Darby and Lorcan a present to help them feel welcome, loved, and maybe forget about what they’d lost for just a little while.

“There you go, sweetpea,”

Indi said as she finished braiding Darby’s hair into two braids. She attached a Christmas-themed bow to the ends of each braid.

“Thank you,”

Darby replied and fiddled with her braids. She wore a red velvet dress with green stockings and black patent-leather shoes.

“Don’t you look pretty, princess,”

Chaos said and scooped her up to kiss her cheek, making her giggle.

“And you, little prince, you’re looking sharp,”

he added to Lorcan. Lorcan had chosen black pants and a red Christmasy shirt with his sneakers.

“Mama Indi wooks pwetty,”

Darby said from where Chaos still held her.

“That she does,”

Chaos agreed.

Indi had chosen a red and black dress with gold and white accents. The bodice was black and had long sleeves and a v-neck neckline. The skirt, which flared out and brushed her knees, was deep red. It was dusted with gold and white stars and had a gold streamer detail on the front of the skirt. She’d paired it with black tights and red low-heeled heels.

“Why thank you, sweetpea,”

Indi replied. The first time Darby had called her Mama Indi, it had brought tears to her eyes.

“Everyone ready to go?”

Chaos asked.

“Yes!”

the kids cheered in unison.

“Presents in the SUV already?”

Indi questioned.

“Yup. Locked and loaded. Let’s go,”

he affirmed.

Ten minutes later they were walking into the clubhouse. She watched the kids’ faces and saw their eyes widen at all the Christmas decor, including a huge tree with lots of presents under it.

“Let’s add our presents to the pile,”

Chaos suggested and let them help him.

“Hey you two. We have some yummy apple codar,”

Hallie said, approaching.

“And lots of goodies. Come see.”

When Darby took Hallie’s hand, Indi beamed. Exposing the kids to everyone had certainly been a good idea.

Chaos stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

“This place looks great. I know the others did a lot of the actual work since you were home with the kids, but it’s all your design.”

“Yeah, the ladies really came through in a pinch,”

Indi admitted. They moved to join the kids at the treats table and helped the little ones fill plates.

There was dancing and laughter, food was eaten, and then it was time for presents.

One by one, each adult was handed a present to open, and then the kids’ presents were piled in front of them.

“All for us?”

Lorcan asked, awe in his voice.

“All for you two, little man,”

Chaos told him.

Both children tore into their gifts, squealing over each item. They had everything from dolls and dress-up clothes for Darby and legos and a remote control truck for Lorcan. There were games, some clothes, and Sinner and Hallie had gotten them both bicycles with training wheels.

“Looks like we get to teach our kids how to ride,”

Chaos said with a laugh.

“When there’s no snow or ice on the ground. No way am I letting my babies get hurt,”

Indi replied.

“Whatever you say, Kitten,”

he agreed with a chuckle.

“You know it’s going to take two trips to get everything home, right?”

she questioned.

“Yeah, but that’s fine. I’ll run you three home with the first load and then come back for the rest,”

he replied.

“Sounds good.”

When Ripper pulled out his guitar and started playing, the music was turned off and Ivy, who they’d discovered loved to sing, led them all in Christmas carols. Even Darby and Lorcan sang the ones they knew.

When the kids started yawning and rubbing their eyes, Indi nodded at her husband.

“Time to get these two home and into bed. Have a good night everyone,”

she called out as she picked Darby up.

Chaos scooped Lorcan up and they headed home.

After tucking two very sleepy children into bed, Chaos left to get the rest of their gifts.

“We can put everything away tomorrow,”

he said once he returned.

“Yeah. I can’t believe how much our lives have changed in the last few weeks,”

Indi murmured softly.

“Things felt... incomplete, and now the laughter of children fills our home.”

“Our family is complete,”

Chaos replied.

Thinking about his words, Indi realized he was right. With Darby and Lorcan in their lives, their family was indeed complete.

Jingle Blaze

By Candi Fox

Muddy Water Colored Memories

Grizzly

July Twenty-three years ago...

“Yo, Griz, did you drug the rugrats so they’ll sleep in tomorrow? We have a lot of shit to get done. Remind me why we’re doing Christmas in fucking July?”

Mad Dog whines.

I slap him upside the head.

“You know damn good and well why we have Christmas in July.”

My no account ol’ lady took off and left us when my kids were one, three, and five. I’ll never forget the morning I came home from work to find her gone. July 2, 1995; the day my life changed. I’d been doing a shift at the fishery. It’s the legit cover for some of our illegal operations. The Merciless Few have chapters all over the states. Some are legit, some aren’t, but we all have one one thing in common. We’re bad motherfuckers.

Our chapter is part of that fabled one percent. We live life to the fullest. That doesn’t mean we don’t fall in love or get our hearts broken, though. And the ol’ lady leaving me shredded mine. And she didn’t even want our children. That hurt more. Honestly, it’s for the better. If she didn’t want or love the kids, she should have told me after Walker was born. Instead we had two more, Wade and Wynn. The apples of my eye. I shifted all my love and attention to my children. My club and my kids are my life. It’s why I started the whole Christmas in July celebration.

It was a panic move. A move to make my kids smile again after Sarah left. That first year, they didn’t understand why their mama was gone. Walker kept asking when she was coming back. Wade cried himself to sleep every night. Wynn, my baby girl, was too young to know any different, but she still felt the shift, the absence.

I was desperate. I didn’t know how to fix it, how to make it better. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I gave them Christmas in the middle of summer. Bought a damn tree, strung up some lights, and had the guys pitch in for presents. We grilled out, set off fireworks, and for one night, my kids had smiles on their faces again. It stuck. Every year since, we’ve done it.

Mad Dog rubs the back of his head, scowling at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I gotta like it.”

I smirk.

“Then don’t show up.”

He snorts.

“Like hell. I ain’t missing free food, booze, and fireworks.”

That’s the thing about the club. It ain’t just about the money, the power, or the brotherhood. It’s about family. And family takes care of its own.

“Stop your bellyaching and let’s go get the shit we need.”

The clubhouse garage is packed to the damn ceiling with boxes labeled XMAS SHIT in Titan’s bold, no-nonsense handwriting. Every year we haul this crap out, and every year, I swear I ain’t doing it again. Yet here we are.

“Mad Dog, get your lazy ass over here and grab a box,”

I bark, yanking the nearest one off the shelf and tossing it at him. He catches it with a grunt, muttering under his breath.

“This is ridiculous. Bikers don’t decorate for Christmas.”

Boone smirks, pulling out a string of lights.

“Yeah? Tell that to the rugrats. Daisy’s already talkin’ about what she’s getting, and Walker said he wants to help hang the big-ass wreath this year.”

Mad Dog groans dramatically, throwing an arm over his face.

“We’re raising a generation of softies.”

Bishop steps up, lifting a heavy crate with one arm like it’s nothing.

“Nah, we’re raising kids who know they’re loved. Ain’t a damn thing wrong with that.”

That shuts Mad Dog up real quick.

Titan leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching us like the goddamn overseer of a chain gang.

“You gonna help or just supervise?”

I challenge.

He huffs.

“I’m making sure you idiots don’t break anything.”

I roll my eyes but let it slide. Titan takes Christmas in July as seriously as I do, not that he’ll ever admit it.

We haul the decorations outside, where the kids are already running around the yard, hyped up on sugar and excitement. Logan and Walker are wrestling near the firepit, while Wynn and Daisy are setting up plastic reindeer on the clubhouse steps.

“Hey!”

I shout.

“We decorating or throwing hands?”

Logan shoves Walker one last time before backing off, grinning. “Both.”

I shake my head, but inside, I’m grinning too.

Christmas in July might have started as a desperate move, but looking around at my kids, my club, my family, I know it’s the best damn decision I ever made.

Decoration Day

Forge

The garage is full of boxes, half of them labeled with Jingle Blaze decorations, the other half packed with club business, shit the kids don’t need to see. But today, this is about them, not the club.

I shake out a string of tangled lights, scowling at the mess. Titan packed this box like a goddamn savage. Across the garage, Alex and Bayou are already digging into the decorations. Alex, my fourteen-year-old, is trying to act like he’s too old for this. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Bayou with thinly veiled amusement. He wants to help, but he’s at that age where he won’t admit it.

Bayou, my wild little six-year-old, is in the middle of the chaos, untangling garland like it’s a wrestling match he’s gotta win.

“Dad! Look!”

Bayou holds up a fistful of ornaments, most of them scratched or cracked from years of getting tossed in a box. One of them is a tiny motorcycle with Santa on it.

I nod.

“That one’s yours. You picked it out last year.”

Alex scoffs, grabbing another box.

“You say that like it’s a big deal. You pick out a new one every year, Bay.”

Bayou frowns at him.

“So do you!”

Alex rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. I know him too well—he gives Bayou shit, but he likes this tradition just as much.

I grab the stepladder and gesture at Alex.

“Get up there and string these lights. You’re taller than me now, might as well put it to use.”

Alex grins and takes the lights without argument. If I told him to do some club work, he’d bitch about it. But this? He doesn’t mind.

Bayou is hauling decorations out of the box, moving faster than a gator in the damn swamp. She’s got tinsel stuck in her hair and a plastic Santa clutched in one hand like it’s a prized possession.

Alex leans against the ladder, arms crossed, watching her with an amused smirk.

“You’re worse than Dad.”

Bayou glares at him.

“That’s ’cause I know how to decorate right. We go big or we don’t do it at all.”

Her voice is fierce, she looks at me, and I give her a nod.

“That’s right, baby girl.”

She gives me a big smile and my heart melts. That little girl has me wrapped around her little finger. She’s not dating until she’s fifty. Maybe ever. The kids’ mother and I divorced last year. She ran off with some salesman leaving me to be a single dad. I would have been lost without Grizzly and the other brothers in the club.

Grizzly had gone through something similar four years prior and the club rallied around him.

Who the hell ever thought so many women would abandon their children, and with “the dregs of humanity”. According to many, that’s what we are. Outlaw bikers who have no regard for anything but their own pleasure. While that may be true for some, it’s not true for all. Yes, I do illegal things, but that doesn’t make me heartless. My kids are my world.

Bayou is running around like a madman, grabbing decorations from the box while Alex shakes his head.

“Dad, do we really need all these gators?”

Alex grumbles, holding up a ceramic alligator wearing a Santa hat. He’d come down from the ladder to detangle more lights. Alex sighs.

“You know, normal people just put up a tree and lights in December.”

I glance at him.

“You see any normal people around here?”

Bayou cackles like a little maniac as she starts zip-tying tiny Santa hats onto the ceramic gators.

Alex mutters something under his breath, but I see the way he hides a grin while stringing lights on the dock. He likes this as much as she does, he just won’t admit it. Bayou grabs the large taxidermied alligator wearing a Santa hat and plops it next to the porch steps.

“This one’s Gator Claus. He’s in charge.”

Alex groans.

“Dad, do we really need so many gators?”

I smirk, adjusting the giant inflatable alligator wearing a Santa hat and sunglasses.

“Hell yeah, we do. We’re in the bayou, son. What, you want reindeer like some Yankee?”

Bayou snickers and drags over a plastic crawfish wrapped in Christmas lights.

“This one’s his backup.”

I step back, looking at the chaotic masterpiece unfolding before me:

Santa-gators instead of reindeer lined up across the yard.

Crawfish string lights wrapped around the fences.

An inflatable Santa riding an airboat instead of a sleigh.

A sign over the entrance: “Merry Jingle Blaze, Ya Filthy Animals.”

A shotgun wrapped in tinsel hanging over the doorway.

Bayou runs up, holding the Santa skull topper like it’s the goddamn Holy Grail.

“Can we put it up now, Daddy?”

I ruffle her hair.

“Yeah, baby girl. Let’s light this place up.”

Because Jingle Blaze ain’t just a party. It’s a goddamn spectacle.

I step back, taking in the chaos of Jingle Blaze decorations. The gators are lined up, the lights are strung, and the shotgun over the doorway has just the right amount of tinsel. It’s a masterpiece of MC holiday madness.

Bayou tugs at my vest.

“Daddy, we forgot the Christmas music!”

I chuckle, ruffling her hair.

“You’re right, baby girl. Go inside and grab my boom box. It’s in the living room next to my chair.”

She bolts inside without hesitation, leaving me alone with Alex.

I glance at my son. He’s taller now, leaner, growing into a man right before my eyes. But there’s something else in him. Something quieter. He’s been holding onto something.

I nod toward the lights he’s still adjusting.

“You ever gonna tell me what’s on your mind, or you planning to hold onto that shit ‘til it eats you up?”

Alex sighs, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“It’s nothing.”

I raise a brow.

“Bullshit.”

His jaw ticks, and for a second, I think he’s gonna brush it off again. Then, he exhales sharply, kicking at a stray ornament on the porch.

“It’s just... Mom didn’t even call.”

I stiffen, my fingers curling into fists before I force them to relax.

He’s not wrong. It’s been a year since she left—ran off with some salesman asshole, leaving both of them behind.

I let out a slow breath, watching Bayou’s silhouette through the window, singing to herself as she digs through my cassette tapes.

“She ain’t worth your time, son.”

Alex scoffs, shaking his head.

“Yeah? Why’s it feel like she never gave a shit about us?”

His voice cracks at the end, just slightly, and it hits me like a punch to the gut.

I step closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away, but he stays stiff.

“She’s the one who walked away,”

I say, my voice steady.

“That ain’t on you. That ain’t on Bayou. That’s on her.”

Alex nods, but doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah.”

I grip his shoulder tighter.

“You don’t gotta say you believe it yet. But you will.”

We stand there for a second, father and son, both too damn stubborn for our own good.

Then Bayou comes barreling back out the door, a handful of cassette tapes and a stuffed reindeer in her arms.

“I found it! And look, I brought Jingle!”

She holds up the ratty old reindeer Alex picked out when he was five.

Alex rolls his eyes but grins slightly, taking it from her hands.

“Bay, you do realize Jingle’s stuffing is practically falling out, right?”

Bayou huffs, hands on her hips.

“That means he’s loved.”

I chuckle, patting Alex’s back before stepping away.

“She’s got a point, boy.”

Alex shakes his head but doesn’t argue, tossing Jingle onto the porch railing like it belongs there.

Bayou beams.

“Now we can light everything up!”

I hand Alex the extension cord.

“Do the honors.”

He plugs it in, and the yard explodes in lights. Santa-gators glowing, crawfish twinkling, and the shotgun above the door catching the flickering colors.

Bayou cheers, Alex shakes his head but smiles, and I just stand there, taking it all in.

Because this is my family. My world.

And Jingle Blaze is just one more reminder that we’re still standing—together.

Feed Me

Logan

The smell of bacon, biscuits, and something sugary as hell drifts through the air as I step onto the neighborhood clubhouse porch. Inside, the kitchen is a war zone of food and women, all laughing, gossiping, and slapping away the hands of hungry bikers trying to steal bites before the feast is ready.

The ol’ ladies and sweet butts have been cooking since before sunrise, and it shows. The tables are already piled high with food:

Piles of biscuits dripping with butter

Pecan and cinnamon rolls stacked on platters

Massive trays of bacon, sausage, and eggs

Big pots of grits, heavy with cheese

Mountains of pancakes covered in syrup

And because this is Jingle Blaze, there are some not-so-normal holiday additions:

Gator sausage patties

Boudin-stuffed biscuits

Shrimp and cheese grits

A damn breakfast gumbo

I grab a plate, dodging Big John, who’s already sneaking an extra biscuit onto Emma’s plate while she giggles.

“Titan, your boy’s up,”

Boone calls from the other side of the kitchen. My dad barely acknowledges it, just lifts his coffee like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.

Bayou is already at the kids’ table, covered in powdered sugar, fighting Jesse over the last cinnamon roll. Daisy watches them with a knowing smirk before she steals it right out from under them.

Jingle Blaze is chaos, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.