A biker for Christmas (Jokers' Wrath MC & MC Sinners)

by Bella Jewel

  Maddox could help.

  I’ll get the club to point him in the right direction if he won’t listen to me.

  “You’re not weak, Mack,” I say carefully. “There is nothing wrong with feeling the way you do.”

  “Fuck it, Jaylah, I knew you’d do this. Try and fix me instead of listening to me. That’s the fuckin’ problem, you don’t listen.”

  I swallow, his words hurt but I try to tell myself he doesn’t mean them.

  “I’m listening now, Mack. I want to help you but you’re not going to let me.”

  “I didn’t come here to ask for your fuckin’ help,” he seethes, “I came here to tell you what’s goin’ on because you asked. It’s not up to you to fix me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re just doing me a favor telling me but you don’t want me to do anything about it? I don’t get what you want from me right now, Mack!” I cry, throwing my hands up.

  “I want you to leave me the fuck alone. Let me work through this without makin’ it about you.”

  “About me?” I laugh bitterly, my own emotions getting the better of me. “About me? You’re kidding, right? I’ve sat here putting up with this for months, and you’ve done nothing but treat me like crap and you’re saying it’s about me?”

  “I can’t do this right now,” he mutters, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t do this at all.”

  “Do what?” I whisper, terrified to hear the answer.

  “Us,” he growls. “I can’t do us. I can’t even do myself. I need space. A break.”

  “You’re ... ending it?” I choke out, my throat so tight I can barely breathe.

  “I’m takin’ a break.”

  “No,” I say, my voice broken. “No, you don’t just take a break. You work it out with me or you leave me. You can’t walk away until it feels good to return. I’m a human, Mack. I have feelings. I deserve more than that.”

  “Jaylah, you’re pushin’ me ...”

  His eyes lock onto mine with warning.

  “You’re with me, or you’re not, Mack.”

  He exhales, and then with the coldest expression I’ve ever seen he says, “It’s over.”

  He steps past me and walks out the door, slamming it.

  For a moment. For a long moment.

  I can’t move.

  I can’t breathe.

  I can’t think.

  He just ended it.

  The love of my life, the man I thought I’d spend forever with. Ended it.

  Just like that.

  Like it never mattered.

  It feels like my heart has been ripped from my chest.

  A loud, agonized wail leaves my throat and I clutch my chest.

  Merry fucking Christmas, Jaylah.

  Merry fucking Christmas.

  9

  CIARA

  “SO, WE’VE FOUND THE man, and we’re goin’ to do what exactly?” Maddox asks, crossing his arms, Santana leaning into him just slightly, her eyes on the group.

  We found a quiet table on deck and met up with the Jokers to work out what we’re going to do about Vincent. Usually, they wouldn’t let us be part of this but the fact of the matter is they need the information we have and we’re running out of time. The police questioned us again this morning, telling us that as soon as we board we’ll be escorted off for further questioning. I know they’re watching us; they’re not going to let us get off this ship unless it’s in handcuffs.

  The only reason they’re not on our backs right now is because they have no evidence that we did it and it would be holding us against our will. Also, it would cause alarm. They can’t hold us because they’re only guessing we have something to do with it. Instead they have us check in three times a day, to make sure we’re not doing what exactly? Slaughtering other people? Going for a dive off the side of a cruise ship?

  What?

  “We’re goin’ to stop him,” Cade says, in response to Maddox’s question.

  It snaps me back to the here and now.

  I focus and pay attention.

  I notice Mack and Jaylah aren’t at this meeting and I wonder where she is? I hope everything is okay. I know she’s been having a hard time with him, and I wish we weren’t dealing with all of this so we could help her. She needs some support.

  “How?” Maddox grinds out.

  These men aren’t happy about working together, but they also know they’re left with no other choice. If they don’t help each other we’re all going to prison as soon as we get off this ship. Okay, probably not prison, but we’re going to have our lives picked apart until they police figure out who did kill those men, and picking our lives apart isn’t a good idea because we’re a biker club, it’s not squeaky clean.

  They don’t want cops snooping around.

  “That’s what we’re here for,” Jackson takes over, crossing his arms. “We’re here to discuss a way to get Vincent put back in his place.”

  “We can just make him admit it,” Cade mutters. “I have ways.”

  “We could.” Krypt nods. “But that would mean doin’ more illegal shit and we can’t risk that. If we get caught tormentin’ someone, or hurtin’ someone, we’re goin’ to be straight back in the line of fire.”

  “Maybe we can just get him to admit it on tape?” Santana shrugs. “It’s old school, but really, that’s all we need to do. Get him to admit it so our names are in the clear.”

  “It’s a good idea,” I point out. “Clean and simple.”

  “How do you suppose we get him to admit something like that?” Krypt asks us, his eyes scanning both of us.

  Damn, he’s a good looking man.

  They all are, really.

  “We could get hold of him, get him to spit it out and record it,” Maddox suggests.

  “Not goin’ to work,” Jackson adds. “He won’t admit somethin’ like that to us, because he will know we’re tryin’ to get him to talk.”

  “Might be cocky, though, and just spill it when he sees us?” Maddox goes on. “We just need to corner him, have a speaker on, and confront him about it. It won’t take much.”

  “I think it’ll work.” Cade shrugs. “It’s the easiest option. If it doesn’t work, we’ll use force.”

  “I don’t think we have many other options,” Maddox agrees. “We’re runnin’ out of time and we need to get this done as quickly as we can so we don’t get pulled into the police station when we get off this ship tomorrow.”

  “Alright,” Jackson agrees. “We all agree this is the plan we’ll take?”

  “Yep,” everyone agrees.

  “You can all have your phones on record in your pockets, that’ll make sure we’re covered from all angles,” I throw in there. “Us girls will keep ours on, too.”

  “You girls are goin’ to have nothin’ to do with this. You’ve done enough,” Spike says, finally speaking after having sat back and listened with his arms crossed this whole time.

  “We’re in the line of fire here, too,” I say. “It’s all hands on deck, so to speak.”

  He grins at me, a feral grin that makes my pussy ache. It’s a distraction I don’t need right now, and yet I find myself grinning back at him, promising we’ll finish this later.

  “We’ll pull him out of the Christmas party tonight, ask the questions we need. You girls just enjoy your last night,” Maddox says, standing. “We’ll be in touch closer to this evening. We’re all set to go. If plans change, let us know.”

  The other men nod just as Mack rounds the corner, joining the group. The look on his face is one of a broken, confused man. He looks angry, and hurt, so hurt. His eyes meet Maddox’s and he murmurs in a low and broken tone, “What’s the plan?”

  “You good, brother?” Maddox asks, concerned.

  “I’m fine. Let’s get this over and done with so I can get the fuck off this ship.”

  My eyes go to the other girls, and they all glance at me. Then nod.

  Jaylah.

  Whatever has
happened, it’s bad.

  We need to find her.

  Now.

  “I’VE CHECKED HER ROOM, the dining halls, store, pools. I can’t find her,” Santana says, crossing her arms, clearly worried.

  “It’s okay, honey, we’ll find her. Let’s go back up onto the top deck and go right around again, she could be sitting somewhere we haven’t seen.”

  “I’ll go and keep searching the stores.” Ash smiles at us, and then disappears.

  “We’ll go check the dining rooms again,” Serenity and Addison say.

  Santana and I make our way to the top deck and start looking around again. It takes us about twenty minutes, but we finally find her. She’s sitting right at the front of the ship, her legs crossed, her fingers on the railing, looking out. She’s hard to see because she’s sitting down and is kind of positioned behind one of the pool bars.

  We both sit down beside her and the moment we do, I can see she’s crying. Her face is red, her body is trembling and there are tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Oh, honey,” Santana says, wrapping her arm around Jaylah’s shoulders.

  “He ended things,” Jaylah croaks, her voice so broken my heart aches for her. “He left me.”

  “What?” Santana gaps, confused. “What happened?”

  “We spoke, and when he told me how he’s feeling, I realized right away he’s depressed. He’s not well, and he’s suffering. I suggested he was depressed and said I’d help him do something about it, and he lost it. He said he’s not depressed and he’s not weak. We got into an argument and he said he needed a break. Stupid me said no, you’re either with me or you’re not. You’re not leaving me hanging in the lurch. So, he ended it.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” I say, grabbing her hand. “I don’t know Mack well but I’m sure it’s the depression talking. It does ugly things to men, and it can be really hard on them. He’s probably speaking without thought because of how he’s feeling.”

  “Ciara is right,” Santana says, “Mack adores you, I know he does. He’s not thinking clearly. I’ll speak to Maddox. If he needs help, the club members will make sure he gets it.”

  “I appreciate that,” Jaylah says. “I want him to get help. But as for him not meaning it, you didn’t see his face. He meant it. I could feel it in every word.”

  “We just saw him,” I say to her, my voice soft, “and he looked devastated. I think he just needs time and help. It’ll be okay, honey. We’re here.”

  She gives me a weak smile and then says, “What’s the plan anyway? I need to distract myself. I can’t focus on the horrible feeling in my gut right now. It’ll kill me. I just want this to be over so I can focus on other things.”

  “We’ve got a plan in place,” I tell her. “We’re going to finish this and get you sorted, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says softly. “Yeah, okay.”

  I go over everything that’s happening tonight and tell her we’re all keeping our phones on record when we see Vincent, just in case. She agrees, and we all head back to the room to get dressed for the party. Jaylah doesn’t say anything, and when we meet up with the other girls, Ash hugs her tight, and they whisper something before we all go back to my room.

  When we get in, Spike is sitting on the bed, shirt off, starting out at the ocean. All the girls stop, and as he turns around, I hear a few of them exhale. He’s gorgeous. My man is the very epitome of perfection. With his rippled body, his gorgeous face, and that bad boy persona he holds so well.

  “Damn, girl,” Ash says, “you hit the jackpot.”

  Spike looks over to her, and then a slow grin spreads across his face. “You know Maddox and Jacks would have a fit they knew you girls were getting all buddy buddy.”

  I shrug. “No law against who we can have as friends. They’re just going to have to get over it.”

  “Yep,” Santana says. “We’re like our own club now.”

  Spike snorts. “I can imagine. What are you ladies up to?”

  “We’re going to get ready for the party here, if that’s okay? Our room seems to be one of the biggest,” I tell him.

  He shrugs. “Do what you gotta do, I’ve got to go and get shit sorted anyway.”

  He stands and walks over, his hand going behind my head and pulling me in close for a deep, sensual kiss. Then he nods at the other ladies and walks out. I watch him go and turn back to them.

  “God, we all got pretty lucky, didn’t we?” Ash says, and then her face falls and she looks at Jaylah, realizing she’s probably sensitive to that sort of comment right now.

  “It’s all good,” Jaylah tells her, shaking her head. “You can say what you want. I’m not going to crumble.”

  Yet she looks like she’s going to.

  She looks like holding herself up right now is hard.

  “I’ve got a few bottles of wine in the fridge,” I say. “What do you ladies say we get this party started early? It is our last night and all.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jaylah nods. “Give me all the wine.”

  And all the wine she shall get.

  All of it.

  10

  JAYLAH

  I SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD so much to drink. I know this, I’m not stupid, but for a moment, for a brief moment, it made me feel better. I don’t think anyone fully understands how damn good that felt. To feel better for just a moment. To breathe for just a moment. To not feel the agonizing pain in my heart that seems to be getting worse, not better.

  Of course it didn’t last long.

  Once I drank a little too much, then the pain got worse, ten times worse. Alcohol has a way of doing that to people. Making things so much worse. And then suddenly you’re feeling like you’ll never get through it. Like nothing you do will make the pain go away. So, I did the worst thing I could. I drank more.

  Now we’re at the party, and there are people, and lights and fucking Santa’s and elves and everything merry getting around. I feel nothing but anguish. Nothing at all. I watch the kids dancing with their parents, I watch the parents kicking back at the bar enjoying a night of freedom. The last one they’re probably going to get.

  The girls and I arrived an hour ago, the men came not long after. Since then we’ve all split up into groups to make sure it doesn’t look suspicious. We’re all just waiting for Vincent to come in, to make his confession and then we can all leave tomorrow happily. Yeah right, fuck happiness. I’m leaving tomorrow a hell of a lot unhappier than when I came onto this ship.

  Fucking Mack.

  I saw him once, just once. With Maddox. The two of them disappeared quickly, but not after I looked into his eyes, and he held my stare and I felt my heart shatter all over again. Especially when he turned and walked off, he just left, like it mattered little to him. Like seeing me in so much pain isn’t bothering him at all.

  That hurts more than the fact that he ended things. Knowing that he can look at me, look into my eyes, see my heartbreak, and not let it affect him. That’s like the biggest slap to the face anyone can receive.

  It hurt like hell.

  Needing to pee, and get out of this crowd for five minutes, I stumble my way into the hall and then down toward the bathroom. The Christmas party is being held in the dining room, and if I were in a better place, I’d say it’s an awesome idea. Carols and eggnog, presents and lights, it’s the perfect thing to get everyone into the Christmas spirit.

  Yet my spirit is so utterly broken I don’t even care.

  I reach the toilet and stumble in, doing my business, straightening my tiny red dress and Santa hat, and then I stumble my way back out again.

  It’s in the hall heading back to the party that I see him.

  Vincent.

  He’s walking toward the gathering, wearing what could only be described as a very sexy Santa suit. Tight red pants, a white shirt, a red tie, and a Santa hat. If I didn’t hate him, I’d probably say he pulls this one off pretty well. But I do hate him, and I want to gouge his eyes out with his own fingers.
<
br />   He makes eye contact with me, and I know when he does that he recognizes me. He knows the club, which means he knows their women. He gives me a slow smirk, and I want to slap it right off his face. I hate him, I hate what he’s done to my trip, to those poor young men, to everyone. I wish he would just fall off the side of this ship and be done with it.

  I know I shouldn’t, I know it, but the alcohol has more than affected my brain and I’m heartbroken, and angry, and feeling pathetic and irrational. I’m reckless, I know I am, and the worst part is I don’t care. I don’t freaking care.

  “Don’t smirk at me, asshole,” I mutter as he gets closer.

  He stops, tipping his head to the side. “I’m sorry? Have I offended you somehow?”

  “Oh, don’t pull on the innocent shit with me, Vincent. I know what you did. We all know what you did. Smart move, putting the blame on us, but it didn’t work. We’re smarter than you. You thought you were getting away with it, but they’re going to take you down. You’re going to walk in there and wish you didn’t. Loser.”

  My words are slurred and I’m throwing insults around like a drunk teen, but I just don’t care. Everything inside of me is numb, there isn’t a single thing that matters to me right now. And this douche is making my life harder than it needs to be.

  I expect him to throw something back, or pretend he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but instead he steps closer and grabs my arm. He hauls me against him and then starts pulling me toward the elevator. For a moment, I don’t know what to do. I stumble and try to fight him off, but I’m that drunk I have literally no strength.

  “Let me go!” I yell at him when we reach the elevator and he presses the button, opening it. “Let me go!”

  A woman and man come off, all dressed in Christmas outfits, and when they look at us, they both narrow their eyes in confusion.