Steeling Christmas (Satan's Savages MC Series Book 6) Read online

  K E Osborn

  Steeling Christmas

  A Satan’s Savages Novella

  K E Osborn

  Copyright 2018 K E Osborn

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organisations or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

  Disclaimer: The material in this book contains graphic language and sexual content and is intended for mature audiences, ages 18 and older. This is a complete work of fiction and is not a true representation of a motorcycle club. It is for entertainment purposes only. I hope you enjoy.

  ISBN: 978-0648491798

  Editing by Swish Design & Editing

  Proofreading by Swish Design & Editing

  Book design by Swish Design & Editing

  Cover design by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  Cover Models by Dylan Thorp and Tathitha Dziego

  Photographer by Alice Healy Photography

  Cover Image Copyright 2019

  First Edition – First published in Christmas at the Clubhouse 2018

  Second Edition 2019

  All Rights Reserved

  The name’s Steel.

  VP of the Satan's Savages MC, and husband to a goddess with flaming red hair.

  My life was once chaos and carnage, now it’s school runs and platted hair.

  It’s about as good as it gets.

  My name is Willow.

  Old Lady to a biker who I've watched grow into someone amazing.

  Our family is huge, not just by blood, but by bond. We wouldn't have it any other way.

  This club is our life.

  It’s Christmas, and this time of year, things get hectic.

  Enter a diamond heist.

  The judgemental in-laws.

  A Russian mob lord.

  The cops on our tails.

  Yeah, Christmas at the clubhouse is never uneventful.

  Turns out, Steeling Christmas might not be such a great move after all?

  To those who loved the Savages and wanted to keep their journey going.

  This book has been written using UK English and contains euphemisms and slang words that form part of the Australian spoken word, which is the basis of this book’s writing style.

  Please remember that the words are not misspelled, they are slang terms and form part of the every day, Australian lifestyle. Some euphemisms or slang terms have been provided below for your information.

  If you would like further explanation, or to discuss the translation or meaning of a particular word, please do not hesitate to contact the author – contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.

  1%: The 1% patch is designed to instil fear into the general public. It’s generally centred on a set of ideals which celebrate freedom, non-conformity to mainstream culture, and loyalty to the bike club. (The American Motorcycle Association stated that 99% of the bikers at their events were God fearing and family orientated. The other 1% were hard riding, hard partying, non-mainstream type people. Thus, the term 1% was born.)

  86: To get rid of, e.g. for killing someone. The phrase ‘80 miles out and 6 feet under’.

  Back Door: The last rider in a group ride. Customarily, the most experienced MC rider.

  Brother: A word of respect used toward other club members who become family. This word is taken very seriously in the MC world.

  Cage: Automobile, truck, van… not a motorcycle.

  Duck Walk: Sitting on your motorcycle and pushing it with your feet, usually done when parking or moving forward a few feet.

  Hammer Down: Accelerate very quickly.

  Heat: The police.

  Hog: Motorcycle.

  Lid: A helmet.

  Mobile Phone: Cell phone or telephone.

  Pissed: To be extremely angry or to be heavily intoxicated with alcohol to the point of not knowing where you are.

  Road Name: A name given to someone by his brothers. Usually, this name would be synonymous with some kind of incident or association to that person.

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Information and Dictionary

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  More Books to Check Out

  Connect With Me Online

  About the Author

  T’was a week before Christmas,

  and all through the clubhouse,

  there was no fucking silence,

  it’s goin’ off like a rocker’s penthouse!

  The tinsel’s bein’ hung on the rafters with care,

  with the club girls’ asses hangin’ out their underwear.

  I chuckle to myself as I make up a clubhouse Christmas poem. If I keep this shit up, I’ll be turning into my best mate, Techie. He’s one of the tech guys here at our club—the Satan’s Savages in Aldinga, South Australia. We haven’t always been here, Techie and me. But that’s a whole other story for another day. Let’s just say we have a long backstory, a crazy past which got us to where we are today. Not just us, Lookout, Jigsaw, and Crash as well. We’re Virginia natives, and we patched into Aldinga for a better life, a better club. Gator, Aldinga’s President, patched us in. Now not only are we fully privileged members, I’m their fucking VP, and we’ve made lives for ourselves here.

  Fucking amazing lives.

  Sure, we’ve lost men along the way, some good, some family, but those we still have around us are the best, and I wouldn’t want a better group of brothers at my fucking side.

  The Satan’s Savages—we fear none, ride hard.

  That’s our club motto. It’s what we strive for, it’s what we live by.

  But even though we might be hard, callus bikers, we’re also family men. The Pres and I have families now, along with some of the other brothers. So this club, though back in the day we might have lived for the fight, we don’t actively go looking for it anymore. But if one comes our way, we don’t shy away from that shit.

  “Squuueee.” A loud squeal hurtles out across the clubroom area, and I glance up from my thoughts to see two teacup pigs racing around the main room.

  I let out a bellowing laugh while watching Techie chasing after them. Petunia, the older girl and the one wearing a pink tutu today, and Percival, the younger male who’s wearing a detective costume are roaring around, under the tables, knocking chairs over as they go. Boxes of decorations fly as Irina, one of the Russian twin club girls, is trying to decorate the tree. The pigs soar past Irina wrapping her legs in tinsel.

  Techie races past as she mumbles something in her native dialect as she throws her hands in the air, and I stand back watching offering absolutely no assistance at all. Why would I? This is t
oo much fucking fun to watch.

  The pigs do another lap with Techie chasing after them, the room in utter chaos. “Come here you little shits before I fry you up in the pan for an afternoon delight,” Techie calls out lunging for Percival, but he takes a flying leap straight for the tree. Irina screams, jumping out the way as the tree sways. Techie skids to a halt, the tree starts to topple toward him as his eyes bug open wide. His arms stretch out to try and stop the falling tree, but he’s too late. The Christmas tree falls straight down on top of Techie landing him flat on his arse, with a horde of green foliage spread out on top of the mass of muscle and geeky bulk.

  I burst out laughing as Irina throws her hands in the air. “Look what you’ve gone and done now, Techno, you fool. You clean this mess, ya. I no make tree again!” She storms off in a Russian huff, her long black hair swaying across her beautifully toned back as she saunters down the hall. I step on over to Techie underneath the giant, half decorated tree while he pushes it to the side off him still laying on the floor. His black-rimmed glasses sit crookedly on his chiselled face as he glares at me.

  Suddenly, Percival, the little detective pig shows up from nowhere. His little pink and black spotted tongue slides out and licks right up the side of Techie’s face, leaving a trail of slobber against his stubbled jaw.

  “For fuck’s sake, get off me, pig,” Techie grunts shoving Percival to the side. He huffs looking up to the ceiling. I roll my eyes knowing I’m about to be bombarded by one of Techie’s fact sessions.

  “Did you know that Christmas can kill?”

  I let out a laugh. “It fuckin’ what now?”

  He shrugs. “Christmas kills. From December 25th to New Year’s Day, you’re more likely to die than at any other time during the year. And of many conditions such as respiratory problems, cancer, and heart disease.”

  I furrow my brows. “Bullshit.”

  He rolls on his side to face me propping his head up with his arm. “They tried to see if it was weather related in the USA, so they did a study in New Zealand in the summer focusing on 197,109 deaths due to cardiac issues in a twenty-five year period, and found a rise in heart-related deaths during the holidays, a pattern similar to the USA. A 4.2 percent rise from Dec 25 to Jan 7… So, you see, Steel, my man… Christmas is a fucking murderer, only out to make you spend money on presents, and then it will kill you in your sleep.”

  My brows pull together, and I shake my head. “You really have far too much damn time on your hands.”

  He scoffs as the light clicking of heels lets me know the love of my life is approaching. I’d recognise that sound anywhere. I turn to see her vibrant red hair framing her stunning pale face as she strides in looking as gorgeous as ever with a little flowing skirt and a tight tank top. Her good girl attire hasn’t changed much since she came to the club, it’s just gotten a little more risqué. Where she would wear skirts below her knees, now they’re above and such. But she looks fucking perfect to me. I don’t need a slutty girl. I just need my girl.

  My woman.

  My wife.

  My Old Lady.

  My Flame.

  She looks at Techie on the floor, next to him is the half-decorated tree that’s out for the count, and the two little pigs rummaging the floor for any breakfast scraps they can muster. Flame scrunches up her cute, little freckled face and scoffs. “Steel, don’t just stand there laughing, we have decorations to put up. It’s so close to Christmas, and it’s important for the kids, so get a wriggle on.” She claps her hands together twice like she does when she’s telling the kids to clean up their rooms. It reminds me of when we first met. Back when she was a kindergarten teacher and she was simply ‘Miss Willow’ to all her kids. She rushes off to do something—it makes me smile wide. Most brothers would hate their woman telling them what to do, me, I find it fucking hot.

  I’ll thank her for that later.

  I reach down giving Techie my hand as I hoist him off the floor. He dusts off some of the greenery from his cut as I continue to chuckle. We try to right the tree into position when an Amber alert starts to sound throughout the clubrooms.

  Someone’s here.

  Someone we don’t know.

  The clubroom strobes in yellow lighting signalling an approaching vehicle. Gadget, the other tech guy for this chapter, set up a high-tech surveillance system for the club, so it can identify cars we know, or don’t. And the colour system of the lights—yellow, red, etc.—we all know what they mean. Gadget did a great job, much to Techie’s disgust. They always argue, and considering Techie ended up marrying Gadget’s sister, well, the arguments tend to get a little competitive.

  Techie and I rush over to Gator who’s already with Gadget checking the surveillance to see who this unknown visitor could be. Gadget pulls up the screen, and we all look at it.

  “Who the fuck’s coming to the gate with a nice car like that?” Gator, our President, asks.

  My brows knit together as feint recognition registers in my mind, but I’m not one hundred percent sure as they roll down their window to the monitor. Gadget activates the screen for him to talk to them. When the face comes into view on Gadget’s screen, I open my eyes wide as shock registers through me.

  “What do you want?” Gadget asks abruptly, and I shake my head sliding in next to Gadget, so my head comes into view on their screen.

  He spots me and weakly smiles while my stomach knots. “Phil, it’s Steel. Did Flame know you’re comin’?” I ask because if she did, she sure as shit didn’t tell me.

  He shakes his head as Helen pops her head forward and smiles, waving slightly to the camera. “Hi, Steel, nice to see you. Well, I can’t really see you very well, but I can hear you… you know what I mean. How are you, dear?”

  My brothers all turn to me raising their brows like they’re wondering what the fuck’s going on.

  “How about we buzz you in, and we can talk inside?”

  “Yes, that would be better. Thank you. Bless you, Steel,” Helen praises and slides back to her side of the car as Phil nods.

  Gadget turns off the screen, so they can’t hear us. Everyone spins to me.

  Gator’s the first to talk. “Bless you?” he asks.

  I roll my eyes. “They’re Flame’s parents. Completely religious. Complete arseholes.”

  Everyone jolts back like I’ve electrocuted them. “Then why the fuck are they here?” Gadget asks looking like I’ve annoyed the living shit out of him.

  I shrug. “Your guess is as good as fuckin’ mine.”

  Gator cracks his neck to the side. “Buzz ‘em in, Gadget. But I swear to God…” he smiles, “… yeah, that’s ironic…” he chuckles, but then a serious look comes over his features, “… if they start preaching while they’re in here, I will 86 ‘em.” The stern look lets me know he isn’t joking around.

  “Got it, pres.” I nod, turn and walk over to get Flame. She should be the one to greet them with me. Half because it’s her parents, and half because these people annoy the shit out of me, and I don’t want to be alone with them without Willow. She’s the only one who can handle them properly. I’ve only met them a handful of times, and honestly, I have no fucking clue why the hell they would come here. They’ve made it clear on multiple occasions they don’t approve of me, so coming here must be a big deal for them.

  Stepping up to Flame as she fusses about with our two-year-old daughter, Harley’s, clothes which are piled on the change table while she sleeps soundly in her cot that’s converted to a bed. Flame looks at me and smiles leaning in. “Amber alert?” she whispers so as not to wake Harley.

  I nod, trying to figure out the best way to tell her that her parents are probably walking inside the clubroom right now. “Babe, it’s Helen and Phil.”

  Her head snaps to look at me while her eyes widen. “What?” she asks a little too loudly, making me wince as we both turn to look at our perfect red-haired daughter. She rolls over in her bed still sound asleep. We both let out a heavy breath as I glance bac
k at Flame. “Are you sure it’s them?”

  I nod. “I spoke to them over the intercom.”

  She throws the tiny jumpsuit on the change table turning for the door. I quietly close the door behind me as we walk out toward the main area. “Flame, think about this… why the fuck would they be here?” I ask at a normal volume now that we don’t have to whisper.

  Her top lip turns up as she shakes her head. “They haven’t seen us since Harley was born… that’s two years, Steel!” I hear the panic in her voice. “They told us that this life wasn’t fit for their daughter, let alone their grandchildren. The only thing I can think of is one of them is sick, and they’re coming to tell me.”

  I stop, grabbing her hand, forcing her to look at me. Her heaving breath and glassy eyes let me know how worked up she is right now. She’s torn. I hate this. “Flame, take a second. You haven’t seen them in so long. I’m goin’ to be by your side the entire time, and no matter what happens… I’m with you.”

  Her body relaxes as she leans in pressing her soft lips to mine. That tingle which ignites inside of me, even after all these years, is still there. It hasn’t dulled, not even a fraction. Pulling back from her, I take her hand, walking with her into the main clubroom. As we rush in, we see Helen and Phil standing with Gator, Gadget, and Techie. Phil is chatting, looking in his element. But Helen’s holding onto her handbag like someone’s going to steal it from her at any given second, mixed with that, she looks like she might catch an infectious disease if she touches anything.

  It’s almost comical if it weren’t so damn insulting.

  Helen glances up to see us approaching, her eyes lighten as she notices Flame. “Willow! You look gorgeous, you haven’t changed a bit.”

  Flame scoffs, rolling her eyes as we step up to them. “No, Mum, I’ve changed a hell of a lot. It’s just all on the inside.”

  An awkward silence filters through the air as we all stand around looking at each other, but no one says anything. I grip onto Flame’s hand and clear my throat, dipping my head at her, to hopefully have her say something.