The Davenport Christmas Chronicles
said, rising to his feet, the tone in his voice darkening instantly. My hand instinctively went to my sidearm and I unsnapped my holster. As harmless as he seemed, this guy was clearly far from stable.Crow waved a hand. “It’s okay, we’re just talking here. Go ahead and sit back down or you’ll make Hatch nervous.”
Scott did as he was asked and continued, “I’m sorry, it’s just...something I haven’t talked about... with anyone.”
“Look, man, you’ve clearly been through some shit, but you can’t go around stealing just because you got loaded,” I said.
“I wasn’t stealing,” he sighed. “I mean, yeah, obviously I stole your truck, but like I said, in my drunken mind, I was trying to play Santa to a bunch of needy kids, just like I used to.” Scott’s face fell. He looked like a shell of a man and my heart went out to him.
He continued, “You guys saw my bike. I’ve ridden with my friends back in Florida all my life. Never in a formal club or anything, but we had our guys, and every Christmas, we’d join in with a bunch of other local area bikers and do a big toy drive. I was at Duke’s bar on Fifth and I saw y’all’s rig pull up for a donation pick up. Something inside me snapped when I saw it was a club drive, so I followed you back here. I sat and watched, getting more and more drunk, until it got dark and the coast was clear. I remember the keys were in the truck and then it all gets real fuzzy.”
“Ace, call Duke and ask him if he remembers anything from last night,” Crow said.
“I swear I’m telling you guys the truth,” Scott said.
“Maybe you are telling us the truth, but you aren’t telling us the whole truth.”
“What do you mean? I told you everything I can remember.”
“Everything except for what you were running from in Florida, why you fell off the wagon after a ten-year ride, and what triggered a Florida Gator to put on the big red suit.”
“I told you I don’t want to talk about that,” Scott replied.
“And I can’t trust a man if I don’t know his motivations, and if I can’t trust you, I certainly can’t just let you waltz outta here when I don’t know what you’re capable of.”
“Come on, Crow, what’s the guy gonna do, come back in April for our Easter baskets?” Booker asked. “Look at him.”
“I am looking at Mr. Gator here, Booker, and he looks like trouble to me, and troubled people are dangerous. It’s my job to protect this club from dangerous people.”
“I’m not dangerous,” Scott replied.
“What do you call getting loaded and getting behind the wheel of a stolen semi-truck?”
“Regrettable,” Scott answered with zero self-pity in his tone. “Out of everything I’ve done, I regret that more than anything. Please believe me that it won’t happen again.”
“I don’t believe you, because I don’t know you. You won’t even tell us what you’re doing here, or why you’ve been hoboing across the country for a year. It’s time to get the cops involved. If you don’t want to talk to us, maybe you should talk to them,” Crow said matter-of-factly.
Scott swiped a hand over his forehead. “I lost my wife and daughter. They were killed in a car accident exactly one year ago yesterday. I was married for twelve years. My daughter Caitlin was ten-years-old.” He buried his face in his hands before composing himself and continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t talk about this, ever. I hit the road after the funeral and haven’t been back home since. I left with nothin’ but the clothes on my back and my ten-year coin in my pocket, and now I don’t even have that.”
“Jesus, brother, that’s terrible,” Crow said.
Ace came back into the room. “I just got off the phone with Duke and apparently someone stole the clothes, beard, and hat from the life-size animatronic Santa he puts by the front door every year, along with all the Christmas lights he’d just put up.”
Crow looked up at our guest. “Alright, Gator, let’s figure out what we’re gonna do with you.”
* * *
Maisie
“What do you mean, he’s still there?” I breathed out. “You’re supposed to be keeping him away from the compound, not give him reasons to stick around.”
“Babe, he’s here. We got a situation, but I’m just givin’ you a heads-up,” Hawk said.
“Hawk,” I said, very slowly. “Hatch cannot, under any circumstances, go into the back of that shop.”
“Maisie, we know. If I knew you were gonna bust my fuckin’ balls, I woulda kept you in the dark. We’re handlin’ it.”
I sighed. “Okay, Hawk. I appreciate that.”
“Talk to you later.”
He hung up and I made a plan, letting Poppy know I wouldn’t be long (I hoped), and went to make sure my man didn’t get nosy. As I drove into Cully, I had a moment of guilt, mostly because I had always promised Hatch I wouldn’t drive down here alone, but desperate times and all that. I just hoped he wouldn’t be too angry, especially when he saw what I was hiding.
I pulled into the compound without incident, made it through the first door, then the second, before stepping into the lobby where my arm was grabbed (gently) and I was pulled up against a very familiar body. “What the fuck are you doin’ here, sunshine?” Hatch growled.
Okay, I think I may have made a rash choice.
“Told ya we had it handled, Maisie,” Hawk ground out.
“I know... but...”
Hatch turned on his brother. “Are you tryin’ to tell me you’re the reason my woman drove down here alone?”
“You wanna fill him in, Maisie?” Hawk challenged.
I grimaced.
“Come with me,” Hatch growled and led me into the kids’ playroom, slamming the door behind us. He crossed his arms and stood amongst a plastic kiddie oven, dollhouse, and building blocks, looking like he might kill someone. “Start talkin’.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t actually want to.”
“What the fuck, Maisie?”