Page 8 of A Raging Merry Christmas
“What?”
“You didn’t work it out, brother? We have to get the trees for the rooms or cabins at the Hall and then one for our own homes. This tree farm is gonna make a fortune out of us,” Savage explained.
“You mean I’ve got to do this again with Jemma for our house?” I asked, and Savage nodded.
“Yup. Grace has already decided we’re going out Tuesday to buy it and the decorations. Jemma’s going to expect you to dothe same,” Savage grunted as we kicked our heels, waiting for Wild.
“Wonder if Wild knows,” I drawled, amused suddenly.
Wild had no idea around Christmas, much like me. We’d not exactly celebrated it, and since we had landed on Rage, they’d all been planned, and we just turned up when told. This was well beyond my comfort zone, and no doubt several, if not most, of my club brothers felt the same.
But I understood Drake’s intention. As good a Prez as he was, Drake couldn’t secure the survival of everyone. Some of us would die, and that was a fact. It would be great to think we’d be able to kill all of Fury’s assholes and walk away unscathed, but it wasn’t going to happen. I shook myself and gazed at the snow-laden trees in front of me.
“That tree looks promising,” I announced in an attempt to distract myself.
“Sure does. It’s taller than most,” Savage said and offered me a short nod.
A smirk crossed my face as we heard Wild grumbling as he stomped towards us. This time he was dragging a sleigh, and it held axes and a double handed saw. I bit back my initial comment about us being bikers and not woodsmen.
“If we’ve forgotten anything, you fuckers can get it,” Wild grumped, and a gasp came from behind us.
Savage and I grinned as a woman covered a boy’s ears with her hands. She sent Wild a disgusted stare as she moved swiftly away.
“Oops,” Savage teased as Wild looked guilty. The expression disappeared in light of Savage’s teasing.
“Let’s find a damn tree,” Wild snapped stomping off.
“Wrong way, bro, we found a candidate over there,” I called, pointing as Savage and I set off.
Wild chased after us, muttering under his breath, but refrained from commenting aloud. We stopped at the tree that we’d spotted.
“How tall is that?” I asked.
Savage cocked his head. “We’re all over six foot, and that tree is still taller than us. I think it’s big enough for the Hall. Plus, it’s bushy and well-filled out. It looks like the type that Phoe often has.”
“Good, let’s get it down,” I agreed.
That was fun in itself. None of us were sure, so we argued about which way to cut it. Finally, tired of the argument, Savage grabbed an axe and started chopping. He worked up a fine sweat as Wild, and I watched.
“Grab the saw,” Savage ordered, and Wild and I began cutting. Sawing it through was easy enough because Savage had made quite a dent with the axe. We were so busy arguing that none of us realised which way the tree would fall until we heard a crack.
Savage leapt off the sleigh he’d been sitting on as the tree crashed down. He disappeared under a flurry of pine needles, and I gaped.
“Shit! Savage!” I yelled, looking for any sign of him.
“Motherfuckers!” Savage cursed from somewhere.
“You alive?” Wild asked, unbothered by the fact the tree had eaten Savage.
“What do you think?” Savage retorted angrily.
“Just checking. Could be your ghost answering us, like that movie with the three ghosts,” Wild said, still not moving.
“This is not the Christmas Carol movie!” Savage snapped.
“No, I don’t remember a tree falling in that,” I replied, recalling the film.
“Get me the hell out of here!” Savage yelled.