Outlaw Xmas Read online

  OUTLAW XMAS

  AN INSURGENTS MC ROMANCE

  CHIAH WILDER

  Copyright © 2017 by Chiah Wilder

  Kindle Edition

  Editing by Hot Tree Editing and Ellie McLove

  Cover design by Cheeky Covers

  Proofreading by Ellie McLove

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please purchase only authorized additions, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  I love hearing from my readers. You can email me at [email protected].

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  Insurgent MC Series:

  Hawk’s Property

  Jax’s Dilemma

  Chas’s Fervor

  Axe’s Fall

  Banger’s Ride

  Jerry’s Passion

  Throttle’s Seduction

  Rock’s Redemption

  An Insurgent’s Wedding

  Insurgents MC Romance Series: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Box Set (Books 1 – 4)

  Night Rebels MC Series:

  STEEL

  MUERTO

  DIABLO

  GOLDIE

  Steamy Contemporary Romance:

  My Sexy Boss

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Notes from Chiah

  Author’s Note

  PACO/Excerpt

  Upcoming Books

  Other Books by Chiah Wilder

  Prologue

  A blanket of fresh snow covered the neighborhood as the subtle crunch of footsteps blended with the whispering wind. Branches groaned with the weight of the snow, and the solitary figure in black wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck. The cold was bitter that night. Had he not spotted the house earlier in the week when he was taking in all the Christmas decorations, he’d be home with his feet up on an ottoman, a crackling fire in the hearth, and a glass of buttered rum in his hand. Instead, he was out in the wet, cold snow, slipping behind a trio of pine trees that stood stark against the winter night. Moonlight struggled through the dense gray clouds above.

  Puffs of moisture blew through his parted lips as he breathed heavily, and then the frosted air forced its way into his lungs, stinging his eyes. He shivered and stamped his feet, wiping his watering eyes as he strained to peer through the cluster of pine branches at the house across the street.

  It was two stories and had lights on every possible inch of its façade. It looked out of place in the neighborhood where just a string of lights or a Christmas tree glowing in a front window seemed to be the norm.

  He shook his head as he watched the house. The porch had two rocking chairs with two bright floodlights trained on them. Figures of Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus sat in them with a wooden table between them decked out in plastic cookies and glasses of milk. In every window facing the street, figures of snowmen, elves, and angels loomed, bright floodlights illuminating them even more. Two oversized Nutcracker sentries stood guard at the foot of the steps leading to the porch, and there were all sizes and shapes of various Santas scattered across the lawn. Added into the holiday mix were life-sized Tinkerbell and Peter Pan figures. It was one of the tackiest houses he’d seen this year.

  Placing the baseball bat on the icy ground, he blew his warm breath over his hands as he kept watching the garage door until it opened. The Green family was going to the Pinewood Springs Community Center to watch nine-year-old Abigail clunk across the auditorium’s stage in a musical rendition of The Night Before Christmas. Most of the town would be squeezed together watching the annual Christmas show that featured kids from ages three to seventeen. He’d gone the previous year and had to leave because it was too kitschy.

  As the red taillights from the Suburban disappeared into the swirling snow, he stepped out from his hiding place, baseball bat tucked under his arm. Plunging his hands in his pockets, he looked around cautiously, and after seeing no one around, he crossed the street quickly and headed to the back of the house.

  To his amazement, the back door was unlocked. He paused before entering, making sure a snarling dog didn’t rush toward him. He’d brought dog treats laced with sleeping pills just in case, but after a couple of minutes, he stepped fully into the mudroom and closed the door behind him.

  Without wasting any time, he went into the living room, raised the bat, and swung full force at the Christmas tree. The shattered ornaments, cascading pine needles, and mangled garland made him grin for the first time since he’d driven to the neighborhood. Shrugging off his jacket, he tossed it on a nearby chair, then continued the destruction of Christmas in the Green household.

  The brown-eyed man stomped, smashed, and ripped anything that looked remotely like a holiday decoration. The brightly wrapped presents under the tree were demolished—he used the family’s kitchen knives to shred ties, scarves, and clothing. When he opened the larger boxes, he took special delight in demolishing the toys. Like a crazed Grinch, he dashed around the house, attacking the vintage snowmen and angels in the upstairs windows. After he’d destroyed the inside of the house, he went on the front porch and thrashed Mr. and Mrs. Claus. Breathing heavily, he leaned against the cold brick wall and laughed hysterically as he stared at the cracked faces of the figurines.

  He straightened up and held his breath when he saw a car slowing down in front of the house, then stopping. The passenger window rolled down, and a woman’s voice broke the quiet of the neighborhood.

  “You have my vote for the best Christmas decorations in town. Great job!” She waved, and he waved back. Then the car drove on.

  A sneer replaced the Grinch’s panicked look from a few seconds earlier. He went back inside and headed into the garage in search of the breaker box. Finding it in one of the cupboards, he switched off all the circuits so darkness enveloped the residence, turning off the blinking and racing lights that littered the front yard.

  Satisfied, he slipped away and walked to his car parked a few blocks away. Taking out a notebook, he switched on his phone’s flashlight and leafed through the pages. Whe
n he came to a page with numerous names and addresses, he located the Green family and marked a large X beside their name.

  Another one down. Switching on the ignition, he pulled away from the curb and drove around different neighborhoods, writing down addresses of houses he would go back to. His habit was to look up the address on the county website to find out the name of the owners, and then he’d dig deeper. He normally settled on houses that had children because those homes were the best to destroy. Watching a child cry when she saw her presents destroyed, or the Christmas tree smashed and lying on the ground, was what excited him. It gave him an indescribable rush of adrenaline that lit his body up.

  Cranking the heater higher, he rode around, biding his time until the Green family came home. He’d make sure to watch them from across the street with binoculars glued to his eyes so he could see each expression of shock, anger, and sadness spreading across their faces. The man would be honing in on Abigail and her seven-year-old brother, Connor. The scene would wipe all the joy and pride from the Christmas show off their faces, especially when they saw their foil-wrapped presents mangled and broken. They’d sink to the floor, picking up the broken pieces and crying sweet tears of anguish.

  And that was what he lived for.

  Chapter One

  Chas

  Chas woke to the soft rattle of the wind against the bedroom windows. From the dimness of the outside light, he figured it would be another gray, wintry day. He draped his arm around Addie as she slept and pressed himself closer to her back. His dick was hard and his hand slipped easily under her fleece nightshirt. Visions of them kissing, touching, and loving each other the night before made his dick ache more.

  “Are you asleep?” he asked as he flicked his fingertip over her nipple, satisfaction coursing through him as it hardened under his touch.

  “Mmmm… I was,” she said in a sleepy voice.

  “I need you, precious,” he murmured against her neck as he nipped at it.

  “What time is it?”

  “Early. We got time before the kids wake up.” He ran his hand down past her belly. “Open your legs.”

  She reached behind her and curled her fingers around his hardness. With a smile in her voice, she said, “You’re always ready.”

  “That’s because you drive me crazy all the time.” He raised her top leg, then shifted his lower body into a half-kneeling position, entering her from behind. As he moved he played with her tits and nipples, then slipped his hand down to rub her nub while he buried his cock deeper into her. As he held her tighter, he kept his hands busy, touching and caressing her, and when she reached behind and fondled his balls, he thought he would lose it.

  “That feels real good, babe,” he said hoarsely as he plunged deep into her, hitting her in the spot she loved the most.

  “Oh shit. Don’t stop. Keep doing what you’re doing,” she said between pants.

  As he thrust harder, she moved her hand to his ass and dug her nails into his cheek. “Yes, that feels so good,” she groaned. Then she gasped and her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle her scream. Low, guttural sounds came from her throat, making the pressure that had been building deep inside him explode and rush to a single point of exit. Grunting as he filled her, he squeezed her tits and then fell back with his arms wrapped snugly around her. She placed her hands on top of his and he drifted off to sleep.

  A soft rapping on the door woke him up, and before he could say anything, Jack opened it.

  “I don’t feel so good,” he said as he walked into the bedroom.

  Pulling away from Chas, Addie got out of bed and went over to him. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked as she placed her hand on his forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

  “So what? I still don’t feel good.”

  “Hey, watch your mouth,” Chas said as he grabbed a long-sleeved T-shirt from the nightstand drawer and slipped it over his head.

  “Are you sure you’re not feeling well, or you just don’t want to go to school?” Addie put her arm around Jack’s shoulder but he shrugged it off.

  “I’m sick! Why’re you giving me the fucking third degree?” Jack stormed out of the room and Addie stood still, her hand over her mouth.

  “Get your butt back in here and apologize to your mom!” Chas’s blood pressure spiked as he quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and started after Jack, but Addie pulled him back. “What the fuck? I’m not letting him get away with talking to you that way.”

  Addie shook her head. “Listen to the way you cuss. He’s learning from you. Besides, I think something’s bothering him.”

  “I can tell you that I never spoke to my mom the way he just did to you, and my dad cussed up a storm when I was growing up. Respect dictates the way you speak to your parents. We aren’t his goddamn friends. I’m not letting him get away with that.”

  “Chas, wait. I think he’s having a problem at school. This is the fourth time in two weeks he’s said he’s too sick to go.”

  Chas stopped dead in his tracks and his body tensed as his mouth went dry. Someone’s messin’ with Jack. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  Addie placed two hands on his shoulders and softly kissed the side of his face. “I wasn’t sure if it was a problem or not. There’s been a lot of colds and flu going around the school.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with that. I’m gonna talk to him.”

  “Be gentle. Jack’s a sensitive boy. I better get Hope ready for school. I can only imagine what she’s picked out to wear.” Addie laughed and went into her room just as Chas rapped on Jack’s door.

  “I’m trying to rest,” Jack said through the door.

  “Open the door or I’ll break it down,” Chas answered. In less than ten seconds, he heard the door unlock. He turned the knob and walked into Jack’s room, making sure to close the door behind him.

  “I know I was rude to Mom. I’ll go and apologize,” he mumbled as he sat on the edge of the bed with his head down.

  “Yeah, you were. I don’t ever wanna hear you speak to your mom like that again. I don’t give a damn if you’re fifty years old, you’ll always be respectful to your mom. You got that?”

  Jack nodded but his gaze was still focused on the floor. Chas sat next to him on the bed. “You wanna tell me what’s going on with you and school?”

  Jack wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Nothing.”

  “Then why have you been BSing about not feeling good the last couple of weeks?”

  His thin shoulders went up and down. “I guess ’cause I don’t.”

  “Do you need to go to the doctor?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Is someone messin’ with you at school?”

  Jack whipped his head up and stared into Chas’s eyes. “No. Why did you ask me that?”

  “Just got a vibe that may be the problem. You can tell me.”

  Shaking his head vigorously, Jack pushed up from the bed and went to the window. “It’s not that. I just don’t feel good. My stomach’s queasy and I feel kinda dizzy.”

  Chas stared at his back, his insides twisting. He saw Jack was afraid, so he didn’t want to push him. Some punk is making his life miserable. The urge to go to school, find out who it was, and teach the brat a lesson was strong, but he wouldn’t do it. Jack had to learn to fight his own battles, but he could help his son be better prepared for the assholes who were going to be a constant in his life.

  Jack looked over his shoulder, the color drained out of his face. “Are you gonna make me go to school?”

  Chas’s heart lurched, and he slowly shook his head. “No. If you don’t feel good, then you shouldn’t be at school.” The relief that spread over his twelve-year-old son’s face pained him. “When you get to feeling better, what would you say to me teaching you how to fight? You’re at the age where you should know this stuff.”

  Jack’s eyes widened. “Would you? That’d be real cool, Dad.”

  “If you’re better by the weeken
d, I’ll show you some moves.”

  The color returned to Jack’s face as he pulled out a chair and plopped down on it. “I’m sure I’ll be better by the weekend.”

  “Good. Take it easy today. I’m gonna take your sister to school. Be good to your mom. I don’t want her to tell me you were rude to her. And make sure you tell her you’re sorry. She was hurt by what you said to her.”

  “I didn’t mean it. Honest.”

  Chas stood up. “I know, but words can really hurt, so you gotta be sure you watch what you say. And no video games for the rest of the week.”

  “Come on, Dad.”

  “If you argue about it, I’ll make it two weeks. It’s your call.”

  Jack grumbled something under his breath as Chas picked up a basket full of controllers. “You want some breakfast?” Jack shook his head without looking at him. “Okay. Probably a good decision since your stomach’s hurting. But if you start feeling better, let your mom know and she’ll fix you something. I gotta go.” With the basket in his hands, he walked out of the room just as Hope came dashing down the hall.

  “Daddy!” she said, then giggled as he swooped her up with one arm.

  “Where’re you going dressed so pretty?”

  “School. You know that.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You smell good.”

  He laughed. “I’ll take her to school. Jack may want something to eat after I leave,” he said to Addie as he handed her the controllers. “I took away video games for the next four days.”

  “Don’t you think that’s too harsh?”

  “Hell no. If I would’ve spoken to my mom like that, my dad would’ve grounded me for two weeks and had me on pots and pans duty for a month, so he got off pretty easy.”

  “Well, I think a couple of days would’ve been enough. With a huge snowstorm in the forecast, it’s going to be a long weekend for him,” Addie said as she grabbed the basket from his hand.

  “I’ll keep him busy. Besides, he doesn’t have to be in front of a screen all day. There’s plenty to do.”

  “Maybe we can ask Banger to bring Ethan over for the weekend.”