Page 86 of Tinsel & Chrome

I grind my molars and look as he walks up closer to me. I don’t fucking want to argue with the man, he’s Ember’s Dad. I respect that.

Miser stops a couple of feet away, presses his lips tight.

“You’re seeing my daughter Emberly, and I’m going to warn you once, do not break her heart,” Miser growls, fisting his hand.

“The only plans I have for Ember are to protect, honor, and love her,” I say. “Ember is my Old Lady.”

“Fucker, Old Lady? That’s not honoring her,” Miser growls.

“It is in my world, in the MC lifestyle; she’s as important as a wife,” I snap.

“But Ember is not part of your world,” Miser says.

“She is now! If it works out, we’ll marry,” I say, raising my brow.

“I’m holding you to that,” Miser says, staring at me.

“Miser, I need to get this off my fucking chest! Do you know that your lack of action when I was a kid caused me and Ice a shit ton of abuse from the foster fucker,” I growl, pointing my finger at him?

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Miser snarls.

“I bet you don’t remember us, but I remember you! If you had taken the foster bastard to jail, maybe we would have lived a safer, maybe a normal childhood,” I say in a low, furious tone.

“I don’t remember your specific call, I’ve had thousands of calls such as you described, but I did what I could at the specific moment,” Miser says, gathering his brows.

“Indeed. That could be the case, but I don’t know. I was a kid. I needed to tell you,” I say, staring at him.

“I’m sorry for any hurt, but I put in all I have, and I’m not perfect,” Miser says.

“Right. Are we done? I need to get to work,” I say.

“Yeah, take care of my daughter,” Miser says.

“Ember will always be my queen. No worries.”

*****

Christmas Eve...

––––––––

I pull on my clean clothes and grab my cell from my bed. I look at the text bubble.

Ember ~ I’m ready.

Frosty ~ On my way.

I walk into the main clubhouse and look around at the rowdy Brothers. I walk over to Ice, Enforcer, and Psycho.

“I’m going to pick up my Old Lady,” I say, taking the beer from the Prospect.

“You’re coming back, right,” Ice asks, raising his brow.

“Yeah,” I say, looking at my Brother, Ice, nodding.

I take a long pull of beer, looking at the scene before me. Ice is wearing the red Santa hat that he loves to wear at this time of year. It reminds me that we’ve always spent Christmas Eve together, no matter where we were. One year, we both received the red Santa hat. It was the only Christmas gift we ever had when we were in foster homes. We cherished the hats for years, and Ice still wears his.

“Fuck! Is your Old Lady bringing her bitches,” Enforcer smirks.