Krampus
Whatever I’m feeling, I don’t fucking like it. Maybe it’s the sugar-coated sweetness wafting in the air, or maybe it’s those damn hazel eyes of hers that remind me of the sun hitting a clear blue sky, the yellow and blue hues mixing together to make flecks of green, but something about Mindy St. John has me forking out all the money I have just to make sure her opening day is successful.
What in the actual fuck?
The sad part is she did this to me before. Those hazel eyes have been burned in my memory since I helped her carry a box into this shop before she even opened, and now I’m sitting here staring at her like the world is spinning around us and she’s my only source of gravity.
Fuck my life.
I actually stopped swearing for a good twenty minutes because of this woman. Sure, a swear or two slipped out, but my overall vocabulary was slightly altered just for her benefit.
Why? What makes her so special?
My gaze trails after her as she practically skips from the room, piling pastry after pastry into boxes and bags, getting them ready for delivery. She’s wearing one of those cute fifty style dresses. It’s black with white spots, and her hair is done up pin-up style, mirroring one of the tattoos I have on my bicep. It’s like this girl walked straight off my skin and into my heart. But that’s blasphemous. There’s no way in hell I’m falling for a girl that I barely just met.
My wallet disagrees. The thing is full of bats and flies with how empty it is now, and she barely batted an eyelash in my direction to get it. It’s stupid and reckless, but I can’t help myself. Something about her just draws me in, making me want to protect her.
Voorhees pulls up outside of the building with our three other prospects: Chupie, Frankie, and Wolfie—three brothers who are itching to find a home within our club walls. Two of them are okay, but Wolfie runs at the first hint of trouble. I don’t know if he’ll make it. You need a backbone to survive this lifestyle, and his is missing. They hop out of our largest cage, a white van we use for stakeouts and other things… like offloading merchandise.
Voorhees glances over at Moseley’s headquarters and spits at the sidewalk, his demeanor changing to battle ready. Ever since Moseley called that hit on him in prison, Voorhees has wanted his head. But we need to be strategic about it.
Moseley doesn’t fuck with us during the day. He knows better. There are too many witnesses. But knowing what the man is capable of, and how many men follow him blindly, has all of us on edge.
The four men march into Mindy’s shop, the bell announcing their arrival.
“Alright, I’m here. What the hell are we picking up?” He glances around the empty shop just as Gremlin comes out of the back with a stack of boxes in his hand.
“This fucker suddenly got a sweet tooth,” Gremlin shouts, barely ducking before I swing at him again. He fumbles to hold on to his boxes, but somehow keeps his balance. “Geesh, I get it. No cussing. I swear, a new set of tits comes prancing into town, and suddenly the grump grows a heart and wants us all to have a good boy vocabulary. Who would’ve thought?” He keeps mumbling out the door as he carries the boxes toward the van.
Voorhees’ eyes dart my way but instantly snap to the cute little redhead with soul-devouring hazel-colored eyes who suddenly appears holding more boxes. The smirk says it all… Voorhees already knows what brought on my sudden interest in baked goods.
He chuckles, unable to hide his laughter. “I see.”
“Shut up.”
He holds up his hands in surrender, then takes the boxes out of Mindy’s hands. “Here, little lady, I got this one.”
The swell of her cheeks tinges an embarrassed pink, and she pushes her bangs to the side, her eyes perusing all of Voorhees' muscles with interest.
Damn.
Jealousy bristles inside of me, but I brush it off, tearing past them both to go grab some boxes.
Serves me right for thinking I even stand a chance with a girl like her. Krampus, you’re a fucking idiot.
Angrily, I grab some more boxes off the counter, kicking myself for even letting my guard down the way I did. I just dropped three grand on this woman, and she barely acknowledged my existence with him around. But why would she? Underneath this mask is a monster—a disfigured mess you can barely call a man.
In a huff, I turn to stomp toward the van, only to slam into the slight body of my temptress. Boxes fall to the ground, but luckily nothing falls out. A few cakes and doughnuts lost their icing, but other than that, the pastries themselves never touched the ground.
“Oh goodness, I’m so sorry, Krampus.”
She said my name…
Damn, it sounds so fucking good rolling off that sweet tongue of hers.
She drops to her knees, scrambling to help pick up the boxes.
All of my anger melts away the second those hazel orbs glance up at me, sucking my soul away in an instant.
