Unwrapped

by Jax Hart

  ©2019 Jax Hart

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Jxhart05@gmail.com

  Dear Reader,

  If this is your first trip into Springdale…welcome. It’s a fictional town in the pacific northwestern mountains in southern Oregon. The men are fierce. Loyal. Bad asses. And the women are independent AF and don’t take any shit.

  For those of you who’ve visited a few times…welcome back. This holiday season you’ll find your favorite residents and maybe even Roque will make an appearance.

  Enjoy and Merry Christmas. May the season bring you joy and more than a few…naughty nights.

  This was supposed to be a holiday novella, but the words kept coming and so enjoy this full length 50kplus novel! It’s more light-hearted than MC since it is a holiday romance. I had fun with this. I hope you do, too.

  JH

  ***The men in Springdale are cut rough. So is their language. To stay true to these characters, their dialogue reflects this. These are not grammatical errors, but intentional slang.***

  JH

  PROLOGUE

  DARE

  CHRISTMAS 1995

  I wondered if this was the year he’d come. I pressed my nose to the glass, looking up past the tall evergreens to the clear night sky. I didn’t see his sleigh yet, but it was still early. Hopping down from my bed, I gingerly unwrapped the cookies I saved in a napkin from my class party. Three sugar cookies with sprinkles. Santa’s favorite. Surely, this year, he’d leave me something. Anything. I’ve been a good boy, kept my head down, cleaned the dishes every morning…even the broken ones I often find on the floor.

  “Darren! Where you at boy?”

  My spine stiffened. My palms started to sweat.

  Not tonight.

  Why did she have to invite him over tonight?

  My eyes darted to the window. But there was no time to climb down in the snow. I wouldn’t get far in my pajamas anyhow. The door to my room crashed open. Ma’s boyfriend, Jim, stumbled in with a cigar dangling from the corner of his lip and stinkin’ of cheap vodka. I was only eight and yet I learned what the smell of a drunk dickhead was years earlier.

  My fists clenched.

  “What do ya’ want?” I turned, widening my stance.

  “You’re a mouthy little fucker, aren’t you? I’m here to teach ya’ some manners boy!”

  I cringed. I didn’t say anything, but it was of no use. He beat me for fun. He charged forward and I dove right under his legs, rolled and made it through the door.

  “Come back here, you little shit!”

  No way was that happening.

  Ma had a lot of friends over. They were laughing loud and using straws to snort powder off a tray.

  No one saw me.

  No one cared.

  I quickly looked around before opening a bare cupboard door under the kitchen island, managing to squeeze in leaving it open just enough to peek out.

  “Where did he go?” Jim roared.

  No one knew. His face became redder. He kicked over the tiny tree Ma and I had put up when she was sober three days ago.

  I watched as he stomped on the cheap ornaments, I managed to buy from the drugstore in town using some of the money I had saved from weeding my neighbor’s vegetable garden last summer.

  “Santa’s not comin’ for you boy! He ain’t real! Ho, ho, ho little fucker!” Jim bellowed as he held an almost empty vodka bottle and downed what was left.

  I swiped my hand across my eyes.

  My life sucked.

  No one loved me.

  No one cared.

  I needed to believe that he was real. That maybe once a year I could feel special; like my existence even mattered.

  I didn’t dare come out. I stayed in that cupboard below kitchen counter all night. When I woke up, my neck was so stiff I could barely move it. I gingerly opened the door. Ma’s friends were still there but they were all asleep. Some on the couch, others on the floor. The place smelled bad. I looked around, but Jim was right. Santa never came. And I was stupid for believing. I shoved into the snow boots my teacher gave me; a hand-me-down from her older son. My winter coat was too. I didn’t know where I was going, but I didn’t want to spend Christmas Day here.

  It had snowed sometime overnight and my boots sank deep as I trudged through to the road.

  I decided to walk toward town. My stomach grumbled in pain. There wasn’t much food at Ma’s. Gran wasn’t much better, but when she’s home there’s usually some food in the fridge. She took off to spend Christmas with some guy she met in Reno last fall when she went took a bus trip out there.

  Maybe, I’d sneak around the the diner if it was open and steal a stack of pancakes as the order comes up before the waitress notices. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  The low growl of a truck’s engine comes from behind me. I don’t turn around. I don’t want no trouble. Instead, I bury my hands deeper in my coat pocket and keep looking down.

  “Hey kid.”

  Nervous, I walk faster.

  “Ah, shit. Don’t be scared. I ain’t no perve.”

  I look up and my eyes widen at the shiniest cherry red Ford pick-up I’d ever seen. It looked new and was the color of Santa’s suit.

  The man grinned. “You like my truck?”

  I nod, swallowing hard.

  “My names Roger. My friends call me Meat. Get in. I’m going to a Christmas breakfast.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t, Mister.”

  He nods. “I know. I didn’t trust anyone either when I was your age. I ain’t dumb. A kid walking in the snow in his pajamas this early on Christmas morning tells me…you ain’t got someplace safe to go. I’ve been there, kid.” He reached for something in his cab then puts his arm covered in ink through the open window. “Here. Take this. Keep it.”

  My eyes widen at the huge switch blade. My fingers gingerly take it from his.

  “Merry Christmas, kid.”

  He rolls up the window and crawls forward.

  The knife is heavy in my hand. Hope uncurls from its hiding spot deep inside me.

  “Wait!” I run after the man in the truck. He stops again. I race to the passenger side and open the door. “You sure you ain’t no pervert?”

  “No, son. I’m just a man who was a kid just like you once.” His eyes are sincere. He’s big as a giant from one of those fairy tales I never believed in.

  “Okay. Breakfast would be good. I’ll pay you back, Mister. I swear.”

  He looks me over. “No need kid. The boys and I would be much obliged to have ya’.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Creed. I belong to a brotherhood. It’s more like a family. You ever ride a dirt bike?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t done much of anything, mister.”

  “Besides, keep yourself from getting’ beat. Am I right?”

  I shrug. “Sometimes he gets me.”

  Roger’s face darkens. “Not anymore, kid. You’re under my protection now. Merry Christmas, kid.”

  “My name’s Darren.”

  He grunts, “Good to meet ya’.” He pulls down a dirt road I’ve passed many times before. A large wooden building comes into view. Sassy’s is painted on the sign. Smoke curls from a chimney and a wreath hangs on the door. I follow him inside.

  Men laugh and sing along to the Christmas songs booming from speakers on the wall. Two trees sit in opposite corners full of multi-colored lights. I sniff the air. Bacon and pine. Coffee and grits. No vodka. No drunks.

  I smile so wide; my eyes cry happy tears.

  “Everyone!” Roger’s voice booms, “This is Dare! Welcome him!”

  “Hey kid,” a bunch of men wearing leather cuts nod as Rog gives me a seat at a table. Another huge man slides a plate full of pancakes and bacon in fr
ont of me. “I’m John. I have a boy, Duke, who’s around here somewhere. How old are you?”

  “Eight.”

  “He’s thirteen. He’ll show ya’ around.”

  I dug into the hot food and ate as much as I could. I didn’t know if I’d ever eat like this again. The men said nothing just let me.

  When I was done, we hung out and played cards. Rog taught me how to play Texas hold ‘em. The fire cracked and popped. It was the best damn Christmas I’d ever had, and I didn’t spend it with anyone who was blood.

  “Here, kid.”

  Rog, the big man, John and another giant, Colin all gather around me holding brightly wrapped gifts.

  “What’s this?” I exclaimed as they shoved them in my arms.

  “They must’ve fallen of Santa’s sleigh. They all have your name on it. Rog found them out back when he was having a smoke.”

  “I brushed the snow off them myself,” he boasted.

  I swallowed hard. Could it be true? Did Santa really have gifts for me every year that somehow fell from his sleigh?

  My hands tore at the paper. Comic books! A Nintendo game set?! Books and match box cars? It was more than I had ever gotten from anybody my whole life.

  In that moment, I felt the magic of Christmas. It had eluded me for eight years and I finally had felt it. Christmas hope was real. Magic was too. And instead of fairy god mother’s, I had a group of giants watching over me.

  “I better get you home.”

  My shoulders slumped. But Roger was right. I had to go back. The sky had turned gray. A few snowflakes starting to fall. I pressed my face to the widow of Roger’s truck as we drove away, looking back at the old wooden building until I couldn’t see it anymore.

  “You gonna be all right?” Roger asked as he pulled up outside my house.

  I shrugged and tried to act tough, like my throat wasn’t about to close up at the thought of going inside.

  “Here.” Rog said gruffly, handing over a crumpled piece of paper. It’s my number. If you ever get in real trouble use it. You hear me?”

  I nodded thickly and pushed the door open. “Thank you. For everything. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas, kid.”

  I watched until his taillights disappeared before slowly turning the door and sneaking in. The lights were off. No one was home. No one even noticed I was gone all day. Ma probably forget Gran wasn’t here. Gran is the one who usually watches me anyway.

  I made my way to my room and carefully took out my gifts. I was young but I wasn’t dumb. I knew Jim would take them just because he could, and it would give him great pleasure to hurt me.

  I hid them all. Finding the perfect spots around my room. The phone rang in the kitchen and went to answer it.

  “Darren? Is your mother there?”

  “No. It’s just me Gran. I dunno where she went.”

  She pauses. “I-I’m not coming back. I’m sorry.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  “I eloped. It means…I got married. I’m staying in Reno.”

  “Can I come? Please!”

  “I’m sorry, Darren. You need to stay there.”

  “No!” I punched the wall.

  “Did you get the Christmas present I left for you?”

  “No?”

  “I left you a card and twenty bucks.”

  My fists clenched. Ma uses it on cheap wine. I was sure of it and I knew Gran knew that’s what happened too.

  The front door banged open. “You-whooo you here, boy?”

  “Jim’s here, Gran. I’m scared. He hates me.”

  “Just go to your room and lock the door. He’s just a mean drunk.”

  But he’s drunk all the time I had thought. I dropped the phone as he rounded the corner. “Where’s Ma?”

  “Out looking for you, you little shit. Where ya’ been.”

  “At a friend’s. I left Ma a note,” I shrugged.

  He started unlooping his leather belt as he stalked forward. I gulped. Christmas was over…

  I wake, covered in sweat. Blinking I look around. I’m not back in Springdale and I’m not eight. The cuts from Jim’s belt healed a long time ago but sometimes like tonight, they still bleed.

  “Fuck,” I whisper in the dark. Getting out of bed, I move to the bank of windows across the room. Lights from the city below shine up through the ice and now. Christmas lights twinkle from light poles below.

  I left that nightmare a long time ago and yet it still find me.

  “Dare? Come back to bed?”

  I half turn as my girlfriend poses seductively, letting the straps of her silk teddy drop from her slim shoulders.

  But I’m not even remotely interested. Haven’t been for a while if I’m being honest. Hell, I was too tired after work to battle with her when she showed up late tonight. Turning my back to herm I stare out at the city wondering if Christmastime will ever feel the way it should for me.

  Shiloh

  Red Velvet. My fingers skim the plush dress on the hanger. It’s sure to hug the curves of my body and hopefully make me irresistible to Grant. I lift it from the rack and hold it up against me, turning to the mirror as I do. My hands tremble as I’m thrown back in time to a memory long buried. The red velvet dress is a talisman, spinning me back to the last time I wore a dress this color at Christmas…

  Christmas 1995

  “Look at you, such a little perfect princess.” I shrank back as yet another stranger pinched my cheek.

  My eyes drifted to the twenty-foot tree. I was just an ornament. Perfect and on display.

  Sighing, I ran my delicate fingers down my red velvet Christmas dress hoping Santa would bring me the Holiday Barbie I wanted and a kitten. I dreamed of a kitten to curl up at my feet at night and keep the monsters away. My kitty would have sharp claws and teeth and use them on everyone but me. Soft, fur that would tickle my palm and a throaty purr to comfort me in the way Mama’s arms never do.

  I straightened and carefully walked in my new, black Mary Janes to the desert table. The shoes pinched my toes, but I didn’t dare complain. Mama wanted to find a husband and having me made that difficult she says. I need to be perfect, so Mama doesn’t get mad and ignore me on Christmas.

  I eye the choices in front of me. Sugar cookies, rich chocolate cake, bowls of ribbon candies and peppermint sticks. It’s all for show. None of Mama’s friends ever touch a thing. I reach forward and grab a large slice of cake just as I’m bumped from behind. Not hard, but I’m only six. The slice of cake wobbles on the plate and falls down the front of my dress like a tumbling weed.

  Mama’s going to be mad.

  I frantically grab napkins but it’s too late. The click of her heels crossing the floor makes my palms sweat and my tummy hurt.

  “Shi…,” she bends down, moving my thick hair behind my ear as her ruby red covered lips whisper in my ear, “go to your room. Not one word. Not one tear. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mama.” My chin wobbled and my eyes shut tight. I embarrassed Mama at her Christmas Eve party. She never hurt me with hands. Only words.

  “Good. You—disgusting, dirty child. Santa will find out about this…”

  “But Mama,” I lifted my eyes to hers, pleading for mercy.

  “Go,” she just ordered, looking perfectly beautiful while staring at me adoringly so none of her guests would guess she’s punishing me. Mama’s a good actress. She fools everybody.

  I bite my lip to keep from crying and keep my head lowered as I wind through the hushed crowd and climb the steps. The bannister glows with twined garland and lights, leading a cheery path up to my room.

  I carefully take of my soiled dress, sniffling as my tummy growls and the smell of chocolate frosting wafts to my nose. Mama wouldn’t let me eat supper. She said I needed to be skinny to be pretty. She’s probably madder that I tried to sneak cake then she is about the ruined dress. The tags scratched my back all night leaving angry, red marks on my skin. But Mama wanted to ret
urn it after the party. I don’t even want to think about what my punishment will be for ruining it.

  I brush my teeth and climb into my comfy bed with its soft blankets. Surely, Santa will come. He knows everything…so he must know I’m not a naughty girl. I’m good. Aren’t I?

  I grab my teddy tight as I look out my window at the swaying palm trees wondering how Santa’s sled works where it doesn’t snow. Then I wonder if Christmas even exists outside of the place where snow and ice rule.

  But he came last year. And the year before that. He’ll remember me. He’s the only one who does.

  With that thought…I smiled and closed my eyes dreaming of my new kitty and the smell of fresh peppermint sticks.

  Before I knew it, the California sunlight was streaming through my window. Christmas morning had finally come. I bounded from my bed and ripped open my door. My feet skidded in the hallway as I raced towards the stairs and the twenty-foot tree Mama and I had decorated weeks ago. The lights were still twinkling as I jumped down the steps.

  But something was wrong.

  There were no presents.

  Confused, I looked around in case Santa was in a hurry. With a frown, I raced back upstairs and into Mama’s room.

  “Mama! Mama!” I had cried. “Something’s wrong. Something bad happened to Santa. He never came.”

  Mama rolled over and lifted her ivory silk sleeping mask from her eyes. “He isn’t real you silly girl. Go back to sleep.”

  “What? What do you mean, Mama? Of course, he is. He comes every year!”

  “No, Shiloh. That was my ex, Hugh who wrapped the past two years. He thought it was fun. I did get you some presents; I didn’t have time to wrap them though. Go on, they’re stacked in my closet. You can have them all now if you let me sleep for two more hours.”

  I still didn’t believe her. Mama can be mean sometimes. Especially if she gets doesn’t get a part she auditioned for. The toilet in her bathroom flushes and a man opens the door. He’s handsome. And new. Mama always has new men stay for sleepovers. She giggles and tells me they watch movies together. But she won’t let me have any sleepovers with friends. The man’s eyes widen as he peers down at me. “You have kids?”