Pulling myself together, I step into the bathroom and throw some cold water on my face. My body is flushed and sweaty after Zeek just made me combust on his face. That man can do magical things with his tongue. It’s more than just what he gives me with his body though. It’s the pieces of his heart and soul I know I’m getting every time we intertwine as one that does me in. I get to see his soft spots and his hard ones.

I get to see and feel what nobody else does.

Heading out of the bathroom, I grab the other piece of the candy cane laying on the bed and stick it in my mouth. The smell of peppermint causing my cheeks to heat with images of me and Zeek moments ago. My mouth feels clean but dirty all at the same time. I’ll never look at these damn candies the same again. Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I turn around and run face to face with Dolly.

I hate this bitch.

She’s been in every brother’s bed, and wants to be Zeek’s main chick so bad, she’ll stop at nothing.

She looks at me with knowing eyes, and I can’t help the pride spreading across my face as I lick the candy cane. She would do anything to be the girl on that bed being eaten out by Zeek, but I was the lucky girl. I will always be that girl.

“Have fun?” she asks sarcastically.

“Mmhmm,” I nod, nipping the candy. “Zeek really has the holiday spirit,” I wink, striding past.

She grips my arm, and my teeth clash into the candy cane with anger.

“How long do you think Zeek is going to play house with you, Jillian? You wear a badge for Christ’s sake.”

Pulling my arm from the grip of her press-ons, I shove her against the wall. Her head ricochets at the same time her eyes bug out.

“Don’t ever put your hands on me.” Shoving the candy stick into my cheek, I glare at Dolly. “I thought you learned your lesson the last time you tried to grow some lady balls, but obviously you need a reminder.” I raise a brow, my hand curling in on itself to form one hard fist.

Her mouth opens, and I shove her against the wall again, shutting her up.

Leaning into her space, the smell of cheap perfume has me sucking on the candy in my mouth a little harder.

“The question is, how long do you think Zeek will keep you around the club when he hears you put your trashy palms on me again?” I antagonize. This grabs her attention, I can tell by the sound of the hiccup catching in her throat. I know this club is all Dolly has, and the only reason she’s still here is because I haven’t been the bitch fiancé and made Zeek kick her out.

I can handle the challenge that Dolly brings.

“Everything okay, ladies?” Mac asks, beer in his hand.

Dolly pulls her eyes from mine and glances at Mac.

“Fine, just having a little lady chat is all.” She shoves her shoulder into me and walks away.

I suck on the candy, shaking my head. The nerve of that ho.

“You good?” Mac points at me, his eyes curious.

“I’m going to kill that bitch one day.” I inhale a large breath, my lips pressed into a tight line.

“Going to have to get your hands dirty for that one, Rookie,” he states seriously, before heading back to the party.

Swallowing the fire in my throat, my fingernails dig into my palms with pure anger.

Does everyone here think I’m a goody fucking two shoes? I mean, I bleed blue, but I’ve created a new line. One made of outlaw and enforcement. It’s a darker blue, with a sharp edge.

Stepping into the kitchen, I find Alessandra, my best friend downing a bottle of Jack. Her brown hair is a mess of curls, and her makeup is smeared down her cheeks from sweating. The way she dances, she could lose three hundred calories easily. She’s a hot mess, but looks gorgeous in that red dress and matching heels. Her leather cut claiming her an ol’ lady makes her look like the devil’s advocate. Makes me want something claiming me as Zeek’s. My chest swells thinking about me showing off to the world that I am the woman of the notorious Zeek Deluca.

Using my fist, I rub at the ache coiling around in my chest. Jealousy.

“Whoa, do you plan on waking up tomorrow?” I reach for the bottle, but she jerks it away from me.

“It’s a party, who do you think you are… the police?” she slurs.

I pop my hand on my hip. “Really?”

She giggles, and sets the bottle on the counter.

“Where are the boys?” I look around wondering where Alessandra’s man, Felix is.

“Oh, Zeek is trying to move some product, but the road he usually takes is closed down for construction, and he just got word that the path he was going to take is having random DUI checks tonight and tomorrow.” She spills too much club detail, I know Felix had to have told her this in confidence. My brows furrow with this information.

“What road?” I hope she knows and tells me in her drunken state.

“South Road A.” She nods a little too hard, her finger pointing at me and nearly taking an eye out.

Biting my lip, I think about that for a minute. It’s my job to keep the streets clean, but Zeek is my fiancé and if I did this for him, for the club, maybe everyone would see that just because I wear a badge, it doesn’t mean I can’t get my hands dirty for my man. If I want to.

“I heard,” Alessandra leans in a sloppy whisper, “if he doesn’t get it delivered, the Chinese will retaliate.”

I step back, the smell of mixed liquor pouring from her mouth nearly making me drunk.

Suddenly the kitchen doors slam open, and Machete and Raven come stumbling in. Machete has on red Santa boxers and Raven is in his arms tied up with Christmas lights.

“Do you have any whipped cream?” Machete asks with the most serious face, that all I can do is slow blink. My mind trying to play out what the hell I’m seeing in front of me.

“No, Dolly used the last of it on Mac,” Alessandra points back to the main area of the club. Machete growls and turns around. Raven mumbling something behind the duct tape over her mouth.

“Wow, this place really puts the Clark County Sheriff’s Department Christmas party to shame,” I mumble.

“Uh, what a lame boat.” Alessandra points her finger to her open mouth as if she’d rather puke than attend a work party. I was going to go to ours, but with everyone asking me about Zeek so much lately, I felt it was better not to go.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I slam the top down on the counter. “I gotta check on the twins,” I lie. “Go easy on that Jack,” I tell Alessandra. I give it twenty minutes and she’ll be in the bathroom puking, and crying about how canceling the show Friends changed her life.

Heading towards the back of the club, I dial Chewie’s number. My heart pumping so hard my mouth goes dry.

“Hello?”

I swish the sour taste of beer around in my mouth, double thinking about what I’m about to ask.

“Hello? Jillian?”

“Chewie?” The words come out with so much force behind them I barely recognize my own voice.

I look behind me, stepping away from the clubhouse.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I um, I need a favor.”

“Um, what kind of favor?” he hesitantly asks, the sound of chips in his mouth muffling his words.

“Something… off the books. Dirty. You in?”

Sitting at the table, my boys look at me with expectant eyes. I just informed them we have to make the run tonight. This is an old client my father used to have and feeling nostalgic I accepted the deal like a fucking idiot. The Chinese wants his goods now, or he’s taking it as us fucking him over. The road we are going to take is being patrolled by state patrol, ones that are not in our pocket so I’m hoping going by night, the shadows will hide our sins and secrets.

“Man, this fucking sucks. We should be out there partying—”

“Club comes first, and you know it,” I interrupt Mac.

“We are moving the shit tonight, and hope like fuck we don’t get stopped.”

“Is anyone even sober?” Felix looks around the table. We’ve all been drinking and smoking for hours.

“We just need to move the one box van, and we’ll have two motorcycles follow as escort to the warehouse,” I tell them what I’ve planned out.

“I’ll drive the box van,” I volunteer, clearly more sober than any of them.

“I’ll drive my bike.” Mac sounds like a teenager that just got pulled away from his high school party.

“I’ll be the other escort, and you can get Machete to ride bitch with you,” Felix suggests.

“Sounds good, just stay a few car lengths back. Maybe they will keep their eyes on you two instead of the van.” I thrum my fingers on the tabletop.

“Don’t worry, if they pull you over…” Mac pulls his gun out and places it on the table in front of him. “We will make sure they work for it.”

“Yeah, you won’t be missing your kids’ first Christmas, brother,” Felix nods.

My chest swells with their dedication, but I don’t let my pussy feelings show. I just give a curt nod in reply.

“Well, let’s do it and fucking hope everything goes smoothly.” I slam the gavel down and pray I didn’t just send my boys into a trap.

Smoking a cigarette, I wait while Mac and Felix load the back of the van with the illegal merchandise. The truck rocking back and forth as they cuss at each other to watch where they’re walking.

Glancing around, I wonder where my bitch is. Jillian just left and hasn’t answered my fucking calls since. She’s probably pissed at me. Fucking Dolly is good at making that happen.

Tracing my bottom lip with my tongue I can still taste her and the faint taste of peppermint. I miss her.

“Done,” Mac huffs, pulling the door down.

Flicking my cigarette into the night, I blow a cloud of smoke and climb in behind the wheel. Machete climbs into the passenger seat, a scratch across his face, I furrow my brows.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Raising his large hand, he touches his cheek.

“She’s a wildcat, that one.” He chuckles.

Shaking my head, I start the truck up and don’t ask. Raven and Machete… they’re nuts.

Resting my elbow halfway out the window, I pull away from the clubhouse, which is still in full swing of Christmas Eve celebration, hopefully, nobody will even notice us gone.

The fucking Chinese man we’re dealing with is a prick and could care less about the holidays. So, I’m getting him his shit, collecting the money, and getting home to my family before Jillian pistol whips my ass.

Pulling onto South Road A, my palms begin to sweat when I see the unmistakable red and blue lights of the state trooper just ahead.

“You sure this is the only route?” Machete asks, the uneasiness of his voice falling from his mouth loosely.

“I’m sure.”

He kicks his feet up on the dash and cracks his knuckles.

“We’re going to need a goddamn Christmas miracle not to get pulled over,” he murmurs.

Looking in my side mirror, I see my boys a few car lengths back. Knowing they have my back if these troopers try anything is refreshing, but I hope nothing does go down. Blood will be shed, lives will be taken, and Christmas will not be happening in the Deluca household.

Pulling forward, a trooper leaning against his car lifts his head. His eyes spotting mine knowingly.

He knows who I am.

He pushes himself off the hood of his car, and juts his head, saying something to his partner.

“We’ve been spotted,” Machete growls.

“Play it cool,” I whisper.

The trooper takes a step forward and stops. Grabbing his radio on his shoulder, his body tenses.

It confuses me. My brows furrowing, I don’t take my eyes off the two.

“What are they doing?” Machete questions.

I don’t answer because I don’t know.

Sirens behind us have us both whipping around in our seat. A bright red car is barreling down the road, with red and blue lights flashing behind it.

The red Corvette flies by us, slaying the road with its speed and precision. The sheriff car trying it’s hardest to keep up racing past us.

The troopers look at us with apprehension, not sure which would be the bigger bust for them.

Staring at them with hooded eyes, I will them to take the chase.

Seconds that feel like minutes pass before both of the troopers fumble into their car, and begin pursuit, leaving the road free to pass.

Machete slams both his hands on the dash. “Go! Go! Go! Now is our chance to get while the gettin’ is good!”

My foot pushes the pedal to the floor, and the sluggish box van begins to pull forward.

“Ha! What are the fucking odds?” Machete laughs.

I don’t laugh. This seems too easy, too convenient.

“Did you get a look at who was driving the sheriff’s car?”

He chuckles. “Who gives a fuck?”

My head snaps to the left. “I do.” His face falls, his humor dissipating. “I have a strong feeling that was my fucking fiancée doing me a favor.” My words laced with a bitterness I clench my teeth. My hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

Jillian loves her job and I don’t want her risking it because of me. We made a deal, she stays on her side of the blue line and I stay on mine. I’m the wolf and she’s the sheepdog.

It’d kill me to corrupt her to the point of destruction.