Steel Infidels Christmas

by Dez Burke

  “And you certainly do,” she replies with a satisfied smile. She lays her head against my shoulder and I wrap my other arm around her to hold her tight.

  “Now that all the presents have been opened, is everyone ready to eat Christmas dinner?” Jesse calls out. “Aunt Leona put on a fantastic spread at the party last night and has outdone herself again today in the kitchen. She told me the roast beast is almost ready to come out of the oven.” He claps his hands together. “Take ten minutes to clean up Kendra’s living room, then everyone come and gather around the dining room table.”

  “It’s your turn to say the blessing this year, Flint.” He points a finger at me. “God knows, this family has a lot to be thankful for this year. It’s been the best year for the Steel Infidels that I can remember in forever. No fights, no shootings, no fire-bombings. Life is pretty damn good.”

  “Amen, brother,” I say. “Let’s clean this place up so we can eat. I don’t know about the rest of you, but the delicious smells coming out of the kitchen are making me hungry.”

  Kendra leans down and taps Josh on the shoulder to get his attention. “C’mon kids, time to pick up the mess. Josh, you’re in charge of the wrapping paper. Put the bows in a separate box in case Aunt Leona wants to keep them.”

  Josh and Missy jump up and start cramming the crumpled wrapping paper into the cardboard boxes. They don’t hesitate or ask if they can keep playing with their new toys. They know Kendra means business.

  Over the buzz of the room’s conversations, I pick up the unmistakable sound of a car engine heading up the mountain road. One of the best things about living in a secluded cabin on top of a big mountain is that I can always hear visitors coming.

  Especially uninvited ones.

  “Hey Jesse!” I call out across the room. “Do you hear a vehicle coming up the mountain? Who are we missing? Are you expecting anyone else that isn’t here already? The Cajuns said they were riding down to Louisiana today to visit their family.”

  “No, everyone is here that’s supposed to be,” he says. His eyes grow serious and he slowly shakes his head. He’s thinking the same thing that I am.

  Is Trish’s brother on his way to pay us a surprise visit?

  Things have been quiet for a while with the Steel Infidels. Our gun running and bootleg alcohol businesses have been running smoothly for several months without any issues with other motorcycle clubs. We’ve stayed in our own lane and they’ve stayed in theirs. This doesn’t mean the old rivalries aren’t still there.

  Toby, Sam and Youngblood are huddled up in a corner of the room, laughing and cutting up like old times. They abruptly stop talking when they hear my question. The MC has been through too much shit the past few years to let our guard down.

  Ever.

  Just because things have been going smoothly lately, doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way. Life in a motorcycle club is never all sunshine, blue skies and wide-open roads.

  I hear the car make the last turn on the steep mountain road and then pull to a stop in front of the house. “Shit!” I mutter under my breath. I was hoping whoever it was would turn around before they reached the cabin. An uninvited visitor on Christmas Day can’t be good news.

  The people of Bardsville aren’t ones to drop by unexpectedly to deliver sugar cookies to the Steel Infidels. They give us a wide berth and cross the street when they see us coming.

  “Someone’s here.” Jesse says. He immediately springs into action. “Kids! On the floor!” He snaps his fingers and motions for the kids to hit the floor.

  Josh and Missy immediately drop down on the rug by their new toys. The wives kneel on the floor beside them. Lila reaches out to grab onto the twins with each hand. The boys struggle and try to jerk their hands away.

  “No!” Lila whispers to them. Their blue eyes go wide at her urgent tone. For once in their life they listen and obey. We’ve run drills with the kids enough for them to know if we say to get down, they’d better drop on the ground and cover their heads.

  “Stay down and don’t move,” I tell the kids in a stern voice. They don’t make a sound, understanding this is not a game.

  Jesse moves to the side of the big window running alongside the front of the cabin and peers out. Toby and Sam take the spots on the opposite sides of the front door while Youngblood moves to a position straight across from me.

  Jesse discreetly pulls a pistol from his inside jacket pocket then flips the window blinds until they’re almost closed. He can still see out, but the driver can’t see in.

  “Who is it?” I ask softly.

  “I don’t recognize the car,” he replies. “It’s an old, dark blue police cruiser, unmarked.”

  “A local cop?” I ask in surprise.

  “No, the car is too old,” he replies. “It looks like a model from the late eighties. I don’t see a passenger, only the driver. Definitely an old police car. I haven’t seen one like it in years. If I remember correctly, old cruisers like this one can absolutely fly. The guy is wearing a big coat with a hood pulled up over his head and sunglasses.”

  “Do you recognize him?”

  “No, I can’t see well enough through the windshield to make out his face.”

  “What the hell is he doing just sitting there in the car?” Sam asks from his position by the front door. “What’s he waiting on?”

  The door of the cabin is made of solid oak without glass panes. It’s driving Sam nuts that he can’t see what’s going on. He carefully slides a hand inside his leather jacket to reach for his gun. My hand is inside my jacket as well. We all have our hands on our pistols. There’s no need to whip them out in plain sight and alarm the kids if we don’t have to.

  Jesse narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “He’s waiting for us to come out to him or for someone else to arrive,” he says. “Sam, you and Youngblood go out the back and around the side of the house. Wait for my signal.”

  Sam and Youngblood move quickly toward the kitchen where a back door opens onto a deck. A long flight of steps goes down to the ground. I hear their loud footsteps as their boots hit the wooden planks. I hope they don’t fall and bust their asses. I didn’t have time to warn them the steps might be frozen over.

  One of the twins starts to raise back up from the floor to see where Sam went. “Put your head down,” I order him. “Don’t even think about moving until we say so.”

  I move to stand between the front door and the kids. If anyone comes through that door, they’ll need to blast their way through me first to reach the family.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kendra edging closer to the umbrella stand in the corner where she keeps a shotgun. I never told her how many Liberators she took out with that same gun years ago.

  Some things are better off left unsaid.

  Kendra lives her life to save things, not kill them. I’m not sure what it would do to her if she knew the truth. Not that she would do things differently if she had a chance. She shot to protect me because she’s kickass. I love her for it.

  “He’s on the move and is stepping out,” Jesse says. “He must’ve realized we’re not coming out to him. He’s short with a heavy overcoat on.” Jesse leans closer to the window to get a better look. “Dammit! I still can’t see his face.”

  “What’s he wearing? Does he have on a cut?”

  “I can’t tell. He’s got on jeans, boots and leather gloves. He’s looking toward the house now and just standing there. Like he’s trying to make a decision about what to do.”

  “Any chance he’s lost?” I ask.

  “No chance in hell,” Jesse replies. “He drove past a half dozen ‘Private Property’ signs and kept coming straight up a rough, icy mountain road. He’s here for a reason.”

  Toby slides the deadbolt on the door and opens it a tiny crack. He’s ready to barge out any second. His wife, Maggie doesn’t take her worried eyes off him from her spot on the floor beside Josh.

  “Shit!” Jesse says. “He’s opened the back door an
d is leaning inside to pull something out. Go Toby! Now! He might have an automatic weapon in the back seat.”

  Toby throws open the front door and rushes out. He runs down the front porch steps with his gun drawn. Jesse and I follow right behind him.

  “Hands up!” Toby yells to the man. “Put your hands where I can see them. Back away from the car now, motherfucker. If you as much as sneeze, I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

  Toby is a Marine who can easily hit a long-range precision target. The guy would be an idiot to try anything. Toby will shoot first and ask questions later.

  Sam and Youngblood run from behind opposite sides of the house to back us up. The man is surrounded now on all sides by Steel Infidels with guns drawn.

  The man slowly backs out of the rear seat of the car, holding a bundle in his outstretched arms in front of him. I can’t make out what he’s holding. Whatever it is appears to be wrapped in an old, denim jacket.

  It could be anything.

  A pound cake, a homemade pipe bomb, a severed head, an injured animal for Kendra to take care of.

  Who the fuck knows?

  Whatever it is, we can’t take any chances.

  “Youngblood!” Jesse calls out. “Take off the fucker’s hood and sunglasses. Let’s see who this dumb son-of-a bitch is.”

  Youngblood rushes toward the man from his position at the sound of the house without hesitation.

  “If you make a wrong move asshole, you’re dead,” Toby warns the guy again, his gun pointed straight at the man’s temple.

  The man doesn’t flinch when Youngblood steps closer. Youngblood grabs the back of the coat hood and jerks it down with one hand, while snatching off the big, dark sunglasses with the other.

  A mop of tangled, curly blonde hair tumbles out when he pulls off the hood.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” Youngblood yelps in surprise. “The dude is a girl!”

  A woman’s wide blue eyes with long lashes stare back at us without blinking. The eyes are calm and unafraid.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jesse asks, stepping closer.

  Suddenly the wrapped bundle the woman is holding in front of her lets out a high-pitched shriek, stunning us all.

  “Jesus Christ!” Sam yells. “She’s holding a baby! What the hell?”

  Whatever I thought might be in her hands, it never occurred to me it might be a baby.

  From the sound of the baby’s cries, I can tell it’s young. Maybe even a newborn. The woman begins to pull the baby in closer to her chest, instead of holding it out two feet in front of her.

  “Hey! I told you not to move,” Toby warns. “Not a muscle.”

  Toby was stationed for years in Afghanistan. He’s seen people do horrific things, including hiding bombs in a baby’s diaper. Occasionally he has flashes of PTSD that he’s still trying to deal with. When we were caught in a mass shooting in a mall, he automatically switched over to full Marine mode. He’s doing the same thing now. The steely look in his blue eyes scares the shit out of me.

  This isn’t Afghanistan.

  This is rural Georgia where women don’t hide bombs in diapers. Or at least I hope they don’t. If the woman makes a wrong move, he’s liable to blow her head off. Toby has done some terrible things while in the middle of a PTSD episode.

  “Hang on, Toby,” I say, holding up a hand to him. “Calm down. Don’t make any rash moves here.”

  “That might not be a real baby,” Toby says. “I don’t see a face. It could be a doll packed with explosives. Everyone back the fuck up and let me check it out first.”

  In a normal situation, Sam would fire off a wisecrack about how Toby’s PTSD is making him batshit crazy. But after the car bombing at the clubhouse, we’ve learned to trust his instincts, even if they seem far out there at times.

  The package lets out another pitiful shriek and kicks out at the fabric of the jacket.

  “That’s a real hungry baby’s cry if I’ve ever heard one,” Jesse says. “Youngblood! Take the baby from her before she drops it.”

  “What?” Youngblood shoots him an incredulous look. “No! Why do I have to take the baby? I don’t know shit about babies.”

  I glance over at him in surprise. I’ve never known him to hesitate or buck up against one of Jesse’s order. “For God’s sake, Youngblood,” I say. “You’d run straight into gunfire without a second thought and yet you’re afraid of a baby? Take it. I’m not sure it can breathe with its face covered up like that.”

  Youngblood shakes his head then tucks his gun into the back of his pants. Carefully, he reaches out to take the bundle from the woman.

  “Don’t you dare drop him,” she warns when Youngblood awkwardly removes the baby out of her hands.

  He pulls it close to his leather jacket to shield it from the icy wind. The baby is crying harder now. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters while jostling the baby up and down like he’d probably seen someone do on a television show. Instead of gently soothing the baby, he’s rising way up and down on his tiptoes like a jackrabbit in a jerky motion.

  “What are you doing?” the woman snaps at him. “Haven’t you ever held a baby before?”

  Youngblood glares at her. “Asks the woman who wrapped a baby up in a jacket in twenty-degree weather. Where is this kid’s blanket? And where is the car seat? I can see there’s not one in back seat of the car. Where was the baby riding? On the floorboard?”

  “This isn’t my car and I was in a hurry.” The woman reaches toward the baby. “Give him back to me. You’re scaring him.”

  “Not a chance!” Youngblood replies, backing away from her. “I’ve got it.”

  The woman grasps Youngblood’s sleeve with both hands like she thinks she can overpower the six-foot-four former football linebacker and wrestle the baby away from him. There’s no way I’d take on Youngblood in a dark alley. This lady must have balls to the ground if she thinks she can.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Toby says roughly. He’s the only one of us who wasn’t thrown by the baby’s cries. “Turn around and put your hands on the car.”

  The woman takes one last look at Youngblood before reluctantly turning around and placing her hands on the top of the car. Toby reaches over to thoroughly search her pockets then does a careful pat down.

  “Hey! Watch where your hands are going, buddy,” she says when his hands slide down one leg then the other while checking for a hidden weapon.

  “Clear,” he says after a minute.

  “Turn around where I can see your face,” Jesse tells her. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Who are you?”

  The woman turns back around and lifts her chin up to stare defiantly into his face. “I’ll tell you who I’m not,” she says without a touch of fear. “As you might have guessed already, I’m not the Virgin Mary and that isn’t Baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes. I’m just a woman with a hungry baby in a dirty diaper who needs sanctuary on a snowy Christmas day. I’m looking for the Steel Infidels. I’ve heard this is their safe house. Can you help me?”

  Jesse blows out a long breath then cuts his eyes over at me without lowering his gun. “This is your call, brother. What do you want to do?”

  I glance at the woman and then over at the crying baby in Youngblood’s arms. If the two of them pose a threat to us, I’m not seeing how.

  Yet.

  In any case, I’m going with my gut instinct. Who would the Steel Infidels be if we turned away a woman and child in need on Christmas day?

  “It’s Christmas,” I say with a shrug. “The lady needs a safe house and is asking for our help. Let’s get them inside where it’s warm.”

  “Ah...fucking hell,” Jesse says after a long moment, lowering his gun. “Here we go again. I knew the easy times couldn’t last forever. What’s your name, lady?”

  “I’m Gypsy,” she replies with a quick smile in his direction. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.”

  Something tells me we will.

  Watch for G
ypsy and Youngblood’s book coming soon! If you’re not already receiving my monthly newsletters, please sign up here. I usually send one a month or less. My newsletter is the only way I can reliably inform my readers about new releases. Facebook shows my book announcements and posts to only a tiny percentage of my friends and followers. Also, if you’ve enjoyed this book, please leave a short review on Amazon. This is the single most helpful thing a reader can do for their favorite authors. Thank you for your support over the years! I truly appreciate each and every one of you....Love Always, Dez Burke.

  If you like the Steel Infidels, please check out my other books:

  Call Me Sugar

  One More Summer

  The Steel Infidels Series books in order:

  Liberated (Flint)

  Steel Justice (Jesse)

  Thunderclap (Sam)

  Take Down (Toby)

  The Steel Infidels Complete Series box set