ONE
CALLIE
Snow was rarely guaranteedin Rose Ridge, especially during the month of December.
When it did stick to the ground, or cause enough of a reaction, the entire town seemed to collectively smile. Everyone appeared happier, as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. We were in a snow globe, and while we all knew our proverbial happiness was made of glass and could shatter…no one seemed to care.
“How will they decide who the winner is?” Ellie, my seven-year-old, asked while pulling open the door to The Drip.
The smell of freshly baked cupcakes curled around us, the warmth of the room immediately pulling us in. Ellie was already stripping off layers as she walked toward the glass case of goodies. It was what she always did, and the second she’d arrive, her nose would press firmly against the surface, creating a mark that Natty never complained about. Even if her baristas always gave my little girl the side-eye.
Ford let out an irritated sigh. “This is baby stuff, Mom. Why can’t I head over to Connor’s and play that new game he got?”
Ten years old, and he was already showing signs of being a moody teenager.
“Connor is coming here, so you’ll both be joining our annual Christmas cookie exchange whether you want to or not.” I said, trying to push off the sadness over how grown up the two boys were. A decade had flown by in a blink, and I was still trying to play catch up.
Ford walked past his sister, heading toward the back of the café.
A few patrons were seated around the room, but Natty’s staff was behind the counter, assisting everyone. I smiled at Shaylee, one of the baristas that had just started working here after I talked to Natty on her behalf. Her boyfriend was a tattoo artist over at Dead Roses.
“You guys have fun!” Shaylee called as I walked past her to the kitchen; Ellie was quick to run alongside me as we both pushed in through the kitchen doors.
I smiled as Natty stood against a long counter, her golden hair wavy from wearing braids. She wore a black apron with faded lettering across the chest. It looked like the same one Silas had gifted her, her one and only property patch that she wore since her husband left the club behind. We all assumed he’d maybe one day patch back in with the Stone Riders, but he never did. He rode with them when and if they needed him, but if he did, he wore the patch the guys gave him.
The one they meant as a joke, but Silas still wore it. It was his property patch that said he belonged to Natty.
“You guys made it!” Natty spotted us and set down her lump of cookie dough.
My gaze dropped to the two raven haired boys at her side, who were covered in flour and freckles. Silas and Natty had two beautiful sons, and somehow, they both turned out to be little miniature versions of Silas. Black hair, light blue eyes, so bright, they looked as if they weren’t of this world. Their oldest, Rook, who was closer to Ford’s age, had just turned nine and looked the most like Silas out of the two. He had his father’s nose and mouth. Their youngest, Ryle, was only six years old, but he was more like Natty. He still had dark hair and light blue eyes, but he had her mouth, nose and cheeks. He also had her temperament, loving nature and staring at the clouds.
“Hi Rook.” Ellie waved like she always did. She was better friends with Ryle, but Rook always seemed to make her nervous and her cute little cheeks would flush pink.
Rook glanced up quickly and muttered a quick hello before returning to the cookie dough in front of him.
I unloaded my coat and purse on the table near the door and watched as Natty began helping my kids into aprons.
“This says my name on it.” Ellie traced her little finger over the white lettering on her pink apron.
Ford lifted the black one up over his head and darted his gaze down to the letters on his.
Natty beamed, while returning to her station. She sprinkled flour on a new section of butcher block for my kids, and I settled near the coffee station.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, and after pouring a cup, I pulled it free.
Laura: Killian just ran in front of us on the way out to the car. He’s on the phone with Giles…something is wrong.
My stomach flipped, old worries and fears tugging at the trauma that still lingered in my chest. From childhood, from being taken, from the wars and battles we’d fought over the past ten years. It felt like we never had a break, at least not one that would last.
My father died, and we assumed that meant peace with how many clubs arrived to pay him tribute. We were fools. That display of unity was merely a way of identifying which players still remained in the game, and who would be stepping into which role.
Several clubs had come for us over the years, and many did so because we had little to no alliances left, and far too many grudges to move past. We had the Chaos Kings in our corner, but the Death Raiders were no longer a viable option, even with a good word from Silas. Lance hated Killian and aligned with our enemies. Years passed, and our alliances became fewer and fewer. So this message from Laura had me on edge.
I glanced up and found Natty watching me. Her hands were moving, rounding the dough into balls, while her brows were raised, as if she were waiting for me to tell her what was going on.
Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I walked back over to the counter and slid onto the stool.
“Laura has to put dinner away.” I smiled, as if things were okay, but Natty’s hands froze in place while her features shuddered.