Christmas Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2.50)

“I’ll let him know you need help.”

“Thanks, Lily,” he says before heading to the back of the van to unload boxes of alcohol and soft drink.

I leave Monroe and Tatum to go in search of Fury and find him out on the back deck cleaning the air conditioning filter.

“I swear King only cleaned that recently,” I say.

He glances at me. “Yeah, it’s not too bad, but I figured I’d clean it while I’m looking at it all. This isn’t the problem, though.”

“You’ve figured out what’s wrong?”

“No, it’s beyond my knowledge, but I’ve called a guy I know and he’ll be here in the next couple of hours to take a look.”

“That is the second-best thing I’ve heard all day.”

He turns quiet for a moment before saying, “King’s hopeful this shit in Melbourne will end soon.”

Fury’s a lot like King in many ways, and his ability to read a situation well is one of their biggest similarities. He’s made a point of checking in on me every time he’s home from Melbourne. Making sure I’m doing okay with the kids and coping with King being away so much. Some days he’s been my saving grace, taking some of my load while giving me a few hours to myself.

I nod at what he’s said. “Yeah, I know.” Then quietly, in barely a whisper, as if this will make it seem not as real as if I say it louder, I share my current greatest fear. “But this war has been going on for so long now that I wonder if it will ever end. And we’ve lost too many men…. I can’t lose King, Fury. I can’t.” Tears rush to the surface, and I try hard to force them back into hiding, but I fail. They stream down my face as all the pressure and stress and worry that’s been building for far too long refuses to remain buried a second longer.

Fury pulls me into a hug, his strong arms providing me comfort in a moment when I’ll take any offered. “You’re not going to lose King, Lily. Fuck, he’s been shot enough times now and survived that it’s fair to say nothing keeps that man down for long.”

I look up at him, my heart beating faster than it has in a long time as I contemplate the fact my husband isn’t invincible, even though he seems to think he is. “He’s exhausted, physically and mentally. Every time he comes home, there’s a new piece of him missing. I’m watching the man I love lose far too much, and in the process, he’s slowly losing himself.” I struggle to get my words out in between my sobs. “I need this war to end because I need my husband not to lose any more of himself.”

Fury tightens his arms around me and allows my tears to fall in silence. When I get myself under control, I step out of his hug and say, “Thank you.”

“You’re a strong woman, Lily, but even the strong crack at times. You need to let yourself crack more often. And ask for help. Zara tells me all the time that you barely ask her for help. She’s always ready to pitch in when you need her. And me too when I’m home.”

Smiling, I say, “I’m so glad she has you. How are the wedding plans going? I haven’t had a chance to catch up with her on them this week.”

He arches his brows. “Don’t change the subject. Tell me you’ll reach out more and then I’ll tell you about the wedding.”

My smile grows. “I promise I’ll reach out more.”

“Good.”

“Well? The wedding?”

“We finally set a date last night: the twenty-third of March. And I don’t give a fuck if this war is still going on then. I’m not waiting any longer for it to end to make Zara my wife.”

Fury wanted to marry Zara as soon as he proposed, but she wanted to wait for everything with the club to have settled down. He’s been not-so-patiently waiting. I like that he’s put his foot down. My daughter can be stubborn like me; sometimes we need our men to take charge and show us what we actually need rather than what we’re telling ourselves we need.

“Okay, now that you’ve given me some good news that I can focus on rather than all the bad, I came to let you know that Kick is out the front and wants you to help him unload the drinks for tomorrow,” I say.

“Will do,” he says, and I make my way to the door to go back inside. As I’m entering the house, I turn back to him. “Tell me you got Zara two presents for tomorrow. She’s funny about only receiving one present to cover both Christmas and her birthday.”

He grins. “I’ve got it sorted.”

I should have known he would.

As I move through the house in search of the girls, I think about everything going on with my family and the club. And about what Fury said. He’s right: I do need to ask for help more often, especially if things in Melbourne don’t change soon. King has hardly been home this year, and when he has, he’s been busy trying to give the kids the time they need, the house the attention it needs, and the club what it needs. Our relationship has taken a back seat and I’ve been okay with that because I understand everything at stake. Through it all, I’ve worked hard to handle stuff on my own in an effort to not burden King with more than he already has, but my current level of neurotic behaviour can’t be ignored.

&nb

sp; Something needs to give and I need to make that happen.

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