Oh Holy Knight

by Janine Infante Bosco

  A win for the Scotto men.

  However, because I’ve been working day and night on the renovations, I haven’t gotten any Christmas shopping done, that’s why I’m in this Godforsaken mall on Christmas Eve with all these other assholes who waited to the absolute last-minute to shop. It’s fucking chaos. Next year everyone is getting cash.

  To be fair, half the people on my list are getting cash this year. The only one’s I’m actually shopping for are Anna, my mom, Patty, Sophie and Maria—she’s getting something extra special. It’s only fair considering I tore her house upside down. Something that screams, I’m sorry your house looks like a warzone, please don’t kill me with your frying pan.

  But what do you get the woman who literally has everything?

  The enforcements I brought with me are absolutely no help either.

  “What about this?” Bash questions, holding up a glove warmer. “I’m not sure what it does, but that guy over there grabbed one for his lady friend.”

  “I think you should get Mama Leone this,” Riggs says, holding up a fucking Santa Claus negligee. “It’s a twofer.”

  “What’s a twofer?” Nico asks, ignoring the fact he’s suggesting I buy our stepmother a fucking teddy.

  “ A two for one special,” Riggs explains. “Not only does he get Mama Leone a present, but I’m pretty sure you can cross your old man off the list with this one too. It’s red too! Just like that story, you know, the one with the wolf.”

  “Little Red Riding Hood?” Nico asks.

  “That’s the one,” he confirms. “A little role playing never hurt anyone.”

  I think I just threw up in my mouth.

  Like, literally.

  “I bet they can use some spice in the bedroom after all this,” he continues.

  “That’s if they can find the bedroom,” Bash chimes in. “There is a couch in the hallway that leads to it.”

  Nico takes the negligee from Riggs and hangs it back on the rack.

  “You are not getting our stepmother any kind type of lingerie,” he says as he pulls out his phone to check the time. “Better wrap this shit up, Enzo, we still have to stop off at the bar and load the car before we head over to Frankie’s house to deliver the presents to the kids.”

  The original goal for Frankie’s house was to help the teenagers in our community stay out of trouble, but we’ve expanded our efforts and we now strive to help those suffering from mental health issues, as well as addiction. Since Frankie’s House opened Nico, Carrie and I have made it our tradition to bring presents to all the kids on Christmas Eve—kinda like what the Knights did last night when they delivered gifts to the unfortunate kids stuck in the system. The only difference is we don’t ride Harley’s or dress up as Santa.

  However, this year we’re all a little more stoked. Back in March we opened a wing for battered woman and children. It’s still getting off the ground, but we have about six women currently staying at the center. Six too many if you ask me—no woman should live in fear, but you’d be surprised how many actually do. Anyway, Carrie made baskets for the women, filling them with personal items she thought they’d need, plush robes and soft slippers.

  We got our work cut out for us and if we don’t get a move on soon, we’ll be late for dinner and I think it’s safe to say no one wants to hear Dad bitch any more than we already have.

  Sighing, I comb fingers roughly through my hair, my eyes meeting Nico’s.

  “Let’s go back to the jewelry department,” I say. “There’s a Michael Kors watch I saw that I think she’ll like.”

  He gives me a jerk of his chin and rounds up the glove warming biker and the roleplaying nutcase. Knowing they’re following, I start for the jewelry counter. I don’t make it very far, though, because a security guard suddenly bumps into me. I’m about to tell him to watch where the fuck he’s walking, when I watch him come to a skidding halt behind some woman. He grabs her arm and she swings around to face him, dropping all the packages she’s carrying.

  “Hey!” she shouts. “Do you know how long it took me to arrange those things in my arms? When did you stop giving bags to people when they purchase things?”

  I know that voice.

  In fact, I’ve spent many sleepless nights replaying it over and over inside my head.

  Bypassing the jewelry counter, I ignore Nico, Riggs and Bash who call my name and follow the sound of the voice, finding the woman I met six months ago.

  It was June when I got a call to fix the floorboards on the top deck of a boat. Arriving at Great Kills Marina, I found the boat docked but there was no sign of the owner. I climbed on board and that’s when I found this little vixen, wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties and a tank top, hunched over the railing, throwing up.

  Danika Matthews.

  Tall, blonde, and fucking gorgeous.

  The perfect trifecta and totally unattainable.

  “Er—Miss, I’m going to need you to empty your pockets,” the security guard says.

  “Excuse me?” she replies in a high-pitched tone. I watch as she blows a strand of silky hair away from her face and stares daggers at the guard.

  Still fucking gorgeous.

  “Um, I saw you put those panties in your pocket,” he says.

  Danika’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush. It’s a sight I’ve dreamed of witnessing, only in my dreams she’s naked and I’m doing filthy things to her sweet body.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” she squeals. “Those are my panties! I bought them in another store, but because the world has gone fucking crazy and no one gives bags anymore, I paid five cents for a paper bag that broke as soon as I stepped foot outside the door.”

  “I’m going to need to see proof of purchase.”

  She stares at him as if he’s just asked her to do a handstand in the middle of Macy’s and I take that as my opportunity to let my presence be known. Walking up to her, I bend down and pick up one of the items she dropped, which just happens to be a black lace thong.

  I’ve dreamed of this thing too and in my dreams, I pull her panties down her legs with my teeth.

  Twirling it around my finger, I straighten up and our eyes lock.

  “And here I thought I had lost the opportunity to see you drop your panties.” Her mouth falls open and I wink at her. “Nice to see you, again, Danika.”

  “Vincenzo.”

  My name rolls off her tongue with ease.

  It’s raspy.

  Sexy.

  So fucking sexy.

  The only way it could possibly sound better is if she was coming while saying.

  “Ma’am,” the guard calls. “A receipt would be helpful.”

  She tears her gaze away from me to look at him again.

  “Right, a receipt.”

  I don’t take my eyes off her as she digs inside her purse for the receipt. Finding it, she shoves it at the security guard.

  “There,” she hisses. “I told you I bought them in another store.” Her eyes find mine again before they lower to the thong I’m still twirling mindlessly around my finger. She reaches for it, but I quickly pull my hand back.

  Not so fast, gorgeous.

  I’m not walking away this time.

  “Enzo, man…oh, hello.”

  At the sound of Nico’s voice, I turn, and Danika pries the thong from my fingers.

  Damn him.

  Danika stares at my brother, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the two dopes behind him. I suppose they stand out like a couple of sore thumbs.

  “What do we have here?” Riggs sing songs with a shit-eating grin firmly planted on his face.

  “We had a panty thief back in Texas,” Bash says. “Some fella went around from house to house, cleaning all the ladies out. Made the front page of the gazette.”

  “Oh my God,” Danika whispers, dropping her head into her hands.

  The need to pull her hands away strikes me and I find myself closing the distance between us, but before I can touch her t
he security guard hands her back the receipt.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience, Ma’am. You have a Merry Christmas.”

  “Yeah, right,” she mutters, peeling her hands away from her face. She grabs the receipt and shoves it back inside her purse. Mumbling a curse, she stares at all of her belongings haphazardly scattered across the floor.

  “Here, let me help you with this stuff,” I say quickly.

  “It’s okay,” she argues. “My car is right outside.”

  “I insist,” I volley, bending to grab some of the things she’s dropped. There’s a bottle of perfume, a couple of bras, a new purse and the sexiest pair of heels I’ve ever seen. I lift one shoe from the box and eye Danika.

  “Nice.”

  “Thanks, there a Christmas present to myself.”

  “Hey, Enzo, aren’t you going to introduce us to the fine little feline you’re playing cat and mouse with?”

  I close my eyes.

  Fucking Riggs.

  When I open my them again Riggs is helping Danika to her feet, taking the bag she picked up from the floor. He ushers into the crook of his arm and extends his free hand to her. “I’m Enzo’s stepbrother-in-law, Riggs, but some people call me Tiger.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she says, politely shaking his hand.

  “That there is his brother Nico and the guy who doesn’t speak a lick of English is Bash but you can call him Moses.”

  “Riggs,” I grind out.

  “What? I’m just introducing her to the family.” He turns back to Danika. “So how do you two kids know each other?”

  She smiles at him before glancing at me.

  “Vincenzo fixed my husband’s boat.”

  My jaw tightens at the mention of her husband.

  “Oh, I smell a scandal.”

  “Well, he was my husband at the time,” she explains, and I lift my chin. Our eyes lock once again, and she shrugs her shoulders. “My divorce was finalized yesterday.”

  Riggs elbows me in the gut.

  “What a lovely little Christmas present. So, did you get the boat in the divorce?”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” I say, stepping around Riggs. “I’m sorry. He has a metal plate in his head.”

  “Lies,” he shouts from behind me.

  Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she suppresses a smile.

  “So the divorce went through, huh?”

  She stares at me for a moment, then she releases her lip.

  “It did,” she confirms. “Look, you really don’t have to help me to my car—”

  I cut her off.

  “I want to.”

  “We’ll all come,” Riggs says, stepping to my side. “Here, let me take those bras off your hands, Enzo.”

  I smack his hands away.

  “Fuck off.”

  Danika chuckles and starts to lead us toward the exit. There are so many things I want to say to her, but not with Moe, Larry and Curly behind me. Things like, can I get your number and why don’t we have dinner some time? I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I don’t even realize Nico has taken Riggs’ place and is chewing her ear off.

  “No plans, huh?” he says, and I blink, trying to understand what the hell they’re talking about.

  “Oh, there’s a plan,” she replies. “I’m going home, putting on Christmas Vacation and ordering everything from Jade Island’s menu.”

  “Sounds lonely,” Nico comments. “Especially when you can join us.”

  “Oh, I like where this is going,” Riggs says.

  Wait a minute.

  What just happened?

  “Enzo here demolished our dad’s house so we’re having Christmas at our bar, Big Nose Kate’s. You’re welcome to join us. There’s plenty of food and if you’re a fan of Clark Griswold, you’ll love our old man.”

  “Again, with this Clark guy. When is someone going to introduce me to him?” Bash questions.

  Laughing, Danika brings her eyes back to me.

  “Your family is quite entertaining.”

  That’s one way to describe them.

  “They’re a bunch of assholes.”

  “I prefer the term festive assholes,” Riggs says. “Hey, do you like turkey?”

  She pops the trunk on her Mercedes, and we unload the packages. Once everything—panties and bras included—are tucked safely inside, I close the trunk and turn to her. I can’t ignore the fact my brother just invited her to join us for Christmas dinner, even if the thought of her meeting my family makes me want to vomit.

  “You should come,” I blurt.

  Preferably all over my tongue, but I suppose Christmas dinner will do.

  “What?” she asks.

  “To dinner,” I explain. “It’ll be fun.”

  That’s of course if you consider a root canal fun.

  I jut my thumb over my shoulder.

  “The three of them are members of my father’s motorcycle club. They’ll be there, along with the rest of the club, all my dad’s ex-wives and his current wife’s family. Oh, and there’s a bunch of kids. None of them are mine, but the cute little girl that goes by the name of Anna Banana, she’s my niece and my number one girl.”

  What am I saying?

  Shut up, Enzo.

  Just shut the fuck up and walk away.

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “It beats being alone.”

  “Some people prefer to be alone,” she counters.

  I’m sure that’s true, but I don’t think that truth pertains to Danika. From what I saw that day on the boat, I think it’s safe to assume she’s lived a rather sheltered life. That there’s a piece of her that longs to live on the wild side. A part that yearns to experience all she’s missed while being married to a cheating prick—her words, not mine.

  “Give me your phone,” I say.

  Her eyebrows knit together.

  “Are you asking for my number?”

  “Just give me your phone.”

  Skeptical, she pulls her phone from her purse and hands it to me. I swipe my thumb across the screen and tap the Notes app. Drafting a new note, I type the address to Big Nose Kate’s and hit save, handing it back to her.

  “Dinner is at seven. I hope to see you and your panties there.”

  She flips her head back and her blonde hair falls over her shoulder as she laughs.

  “Very cute,” she says, smiling at me. Did I mention she’s got a fantastic smile? “I should be going. Merry Christmas, Vincenzo.”

  “You can wish me Merry Christmas later.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Aww, look, Nico, our boy is growing up! This might just be the holiday he gives your mother the boot.”

  All the time he spends chasing wild turkeys, you think one would have taken him out by now.

  But no, he’s still fucking here, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

  Fucking up my game.

  Chapter Nine

  Wolf

  I crank the music all the way up, Darlene Love’s rendition of White Christmas filling the bar. After all, it isn’t really Christmas if Phil Spector’s Christmas album isn’t playing. Turning back around, my eyes do a sweep of the bar.

  I did it.

  Despite the renovation woes, getting arrested, and every other damn thing that tried to stand in my way this year.

  I fucking did it.

  The annual toy run went off without a hitch, Toys For Tots picked up our donation this morning and my kids are currently handing out presents at Frankie’s House. There’s a fifteen-foot spruce in the back of the bar all lit up in green, white, and red lights, and tons of presents sit underneath it. The stockings—all fifty-two of them—have been hung with care and Command hooks. All the tables have been pushed together to create one giant one and there are fifty-five chairs gathered around it, one for every person attending and three extra.

  One for Jack Junior.

  Another for Bones.

  And one for my Frankie.

 
Christmas in Heaven, what do they do?

  They come down to Earth to spend it with you.

  So leave an empty chair.

  You may not see them, but they will be there.

  I lift my glass of eggnog and salute the empty room.

  “This one is for you, son. Merry Christmas in Heaven,” I whisper.

  I wish you were here.

  The kitchen doors swing open as I knock back the creamy drink and Lady struts out all dolled up, her heels clicking away. I lower the glass and smile at her.

  “I’m really digging the Mrs. Claus apron, Lady,” I say, winding my arm around her waist. She angles her head and I press a kiss to her lips. It’s a miracle she hasn’t divorced me after all the shit I put her through. Inching back, she touches a hand to my cheek.

  “I wore it for Santa,” she says, with a wink. Then, she turns and glances around the bar. “Everything looks great, Al,” she murmurs. “You did good.”

  “We did good,” I correct.

  If it weren’t for Maria… well, I don’t know where I’d be. My best guess is I’d probably be sitting in the cemetery, starring down the barrel of a gun. I put on a brave face for my sons and for Sophie, but the nights were dark after I lost Frankie. Maria guided me through the darkness, she held me when I cried and when I questioned my faith, she sat beside me in church and prayed with me.

  “We should start frying the calamari that way it’s nice and fresh when everyone arrives,” she says, smoothing a hand over my Santa suit. It fits like a glove now that she took the hem out.

  “Lead the way,” I reply, giving her ass a pat. Santa is most definitely going to have fun tonight.

  The door opens and my first wife strolls in carrying a large aluminum tray.

  “I’m here and I have the crabs!”

  “Well, that ain’t something I ever thought I’d hear you say,” I quip, unwinding my arm from Maria’s waist. I round the bar and take the tray from her hands, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for bailing me out, Merry Christmas.”

  When I called Patty and told her I only had five out of the seven fishes, she offered to make her infamous crab sauce. That brought us to six and gave me the idea to call in the reinforcements—who would’ve thought having a slew of ex-wives would come in handy. Carmella, my second wife, should be here any minute with the baked clams, and there you have it ladies and gents, the makings of an Italian Christmas.