“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She gave me a quick peck before patting me on the shoulder.
“Sorry.” I shot her a knowing glance as she pursed her lips.
“I’m sure you already got an earful on the ride over. No use beating a dead horse.” I could feel the disappointment radiating off of her, sending daggers into my heart.
“That’s for damn sure,” I replied, trying to hide the fact that the onions were stinging my eyes.
“We need to get all this in the oven and then head over to the bar to finish up. Dinner is at three this year and there are a lot of hungry mouths to feed.”
“Frying turkeys again?” I asked, scraping the chopped onions into the pot on the stove.
The crow’s feet around my mother’s eyes perked up as she smiled. “There’s nothing better than a fried turkey on Thanksgiving. It’s the best day of the year.”
Ryder strode into the kitchen, handing me the keys to my bike. “I had it towed to the garage last night. It’s a little banged up, but Ozzy should have it good as new tomorrow.”
“Thanks, brother.” I thumbed the worn keychain of a skeleton riding a Harley. It had been my old man’s good luck charm.
“Your daddy would be so proud of the feast we’re about to have today.” My mom’s eyes glassed over as she tripped down her own memory lane next to me.
“I really miss him. It doesn’t feel like a holiday without him.” The words caught in my throat. My father’s murder was something I would never be able to get over. He had been the backbone of our entire family, blood and brotherhood alike. Even though it had been over five years, the wounds were still fresh cuts stapled together by the bonds he’d left behind.
“Let’s make Abel proud today and celebrate instead of moan.” Ryder’s words hung in the air as he took the Pyrex dishes from my mom.
“Amen to that, son.” My mom was stronger than any woman I had ever met.
“Let me just clean up a bit.”
I slunk into the bathroom, stripping out of my grimy clothes, balling them up in the corner.
It’s going to be a good day.I forced myself to believe it.
Sitting in the bottom of the shower, I inspected the cuts and scrapes that covered my hands, arms and legs. I should have been so much my banged up for how bad the night had been.
“Dad!”I yelled as I threw open the front door when I heard his bike pull up to the house.
“There’s my little man! Merry Christmas, son.” I leapt into my father’s strong, tattooed arms before he could even take a step away from his Harley.
“Santa came!” I was an elated five-year-old consumed by the magic of the holiday.
The black eye and busted lip wasn’t anything new and in my kind brain, I didn’t think much of it.
“Well, let’s go see what Santa brought.”
Little memorieslike that were bittersweet. My father was one of the best men and he would have kicked my ass for getting in trouble the night before a holiday. He would remind me that just because we were outlaws, it wasn’t an excuse to act like a dirt-bag.
* * *
The gravel parkinglot in front of the Unacceptables Bar and Pool Hall was full of bikes and trucks by the time we got there. Three fryers were set up, ready for us to drop turkeys into.
I helped Raine out of the back seat of Ryder’s truck before grabbing some of the food from her.
“Will you chop some wood for the fire? It’s going to be a cold one.” Raine’s sweet eyes met mine as I nodded.
“On it.”
Making my way into the back office, I grabbed my grandfather’s ax off of the wall. Ravage had been called the Butcher for a reason. While in his possession, that ax had seen more blood than wood. Gripping the stained wooden handle, I couldn’t help but feel like I wasn’t living up to my legacy. I was the son of Abel Hellock and the grandson of Ravage The Butcher Hayes, two badass fallen heroes of my organization. All I had to show for my time wearing the Unacceptables’ skull and bones on my back was a rap sheet of bar fights and stupidity a mile long.
The chilly air seeped into my body as I chopped wood behind the bar. It was therapeutic. With the blade hacking through the logs, the sweat pouring down my back, and the sound of the wood shattering, calm washed over me.