Chapter 25 Wylder #2
I tap his knee lightly. “Amazed you’re not screaming in my face about being allowed to go too.”
“I don’t need to.” He smiles at me serenely. “I’m going, so there’s no point getting into an argument about it.”
Neo’s words fall into a brief lull between shouts. Several eyes turn his way, and none of them are happy. My own included.
Wyatt’s the first to speak. “If Neo’s going, then I’m going.”
“Me too,” Ansel adds quickly. “Even if I’m just in the car as a lookout. I don’t want to be so far away. I don’t want to be forced into that small room, wondering if you’re all alive.”
“Agreed,” Wyatt says, and then looks at Matthias. “I know you think we’ll be in the way, but…you fucking hate this shit. I don’t want you going alone.”
“Look, none of you are going. And Neo’s definitely not going,” I say firmly. “And that’s final.”
“Yeah, all right.” Neo snorts. “But how are you going to get around their security system?” he asks in a sing-song tone. “You’ll need a talented hacker.”
My jaw tightens, my hands constricting into fists. “We’ve managed in the past.”
“Without them realizing someone is tampering with their system?”
There’s a pregnant pause, and I know I’m not the only one remembering how many times we’ve had to hire external people to scrub any proof that we’ve been somewhere. It’s a pain, a huge expense, and there’s always a worry that they won’t do a good enough job or can’t keep a secret.
“I fucking knew it,” Neo says triumphantly.
“Doesn’t mean you have to go,” Ansel says. “I’m just as talented. Maybe more so.”
“And your boyfriend is crazier than mine,” Neo says sweetly. I choose not to comment on his implication that I’m his boyfriend. It’s not that I don’t like the word, but it feels too…trivial for what we are. “There’s no way Cade’s going to let you go.”
Cade reaches across to high-five Neo. “Knew I liked you.”
“Hang on,” I say mildly. “What makes you think I’ll agree to letting you go?”
God, the brat is so fucking smug. Makes me want to force him to his knees to choke on my cock until that expression is replaced with fucking bliss.
“Because, Wylder, you understand the logic. The family will be safer with me on the team. You’re more likely to succeed.
I won’t get involved in any fighting and will wear as many pieces of armor as you deem necessary. ”
My fingers twitch.
“I know you’re going to say yes. Everyone else will stay here, but I’m going.”
My hands loosen. “I want you covered. Head to toe.”
“I even have a helmet he can wear,” Cade says as Ansel sulks next to him, his arms folded tightly over his chest. Wyatt doesn’t look much better, he and Matthias both talking in hushed tones. The only ones not arguing are Jules and Jackson, both sitting quietly, watching this all unfold.
Neo grins and kisses my cheek. “You got it, darling.”
He says it like I’ve won, but everyone here knows the truth. Neo just played me like a fiddle, and I let him.
Worse, I’m not even upset about it. How can I be, when Neo’s right? His being there will make it safer for all of us.
I just have to make sure we keep him safe too.
“Is it weird to do this right now?” Ansel asks as he holds up an ornament and hooks it onto the Christmas tree. “I mean, it seems…like the wrong time to do it. You’re going to go attack the Umbra tomorrow night.”
Not tonight, like I originally wanted. Dalton hasn’t heard back from Dante yet, and I’m loath to strike until we know doing so won’t land us in a bigger mess.
“It always seems wrong,” Samson grumbles, pulling out his knife and fiddling with it. “I fucking hate Christmas.”
“I love Christmas,” Jackson says. “It’s my happy place.”
“Is it?” Dalton asks, and Jackson nods, his cheeks flushing.
“Fucking Santa. Creepy man breaking into houses,” Samson murmurs. “I always hope his sleigh crashes.”
“God, can he stop being such a grump?” Harley moans, socking Samson in the shoulder. “Why do you have to be such a downer all the time? Who raised you?”
“Father, which is why I’m such a fuddy-duddy.”
“Never say that word again,” Harley says with a loud laugh. “What the fuck?”
“Fuddy. Duddy, you piece of shit,” Samson says, producing a knife from his pocket and pointing it at Harley. “Christmas sucks. It did when we were younger, and it does now. If it were up to me, I’d take that Christmas tree out back and set it on fire.”
Neo giggles as he drinks some eggnog that Jules handed him. It’s spiked; I’m sure of it.
It’s a family tradition that we decorate the Buckingham estate together. It’s something we promised each other when our father died.
That no matter how he tried to isolate us, we would come together on this holiday.
Samson wanted us to get together on No Pants Day, but we all vetoed it.
Firstly, we didn’t want to see each other with no pants on, and secondly, is that even a real holiday anyway?
“How are you feeling with this chaos?” I ask.
“I love it,” Neo sighs. “It’s weirdly comforting.”
That makes my lungs expand in happiness. I’m so fucking relieved, because when Brennan arrived with the Christmas tree, Neo’s eyes went wide. When Harley grinned and announced that we’d be decorating the entire house, Neo looked at me, his face falling.
“Are they sure they want me to help?” he asked me.
I cocked my head, not realizing the significance of this moment for him. But the longer the wheels of my mind spun, I realized that Neo never had a family to spend Christmas with. That if he ever did celebrate this holiday, it was with Ansel in that shitty apartment.
It was in that moment that I reached out and took him roughly by the chin, forcing him to look at me.
“Yes. Believe me when I say they do. And more importantly, since you’re part of this family now, it’s required. You must bear this with me each year.”
Neo sniffled loudly at that, and Samson took that moment to try and chop down the tree by throwing his axe at it. It managed to get lodged in the wall instead.
That was enough to have Jules shoving an eggnog into Neo’s hand, and for Harley to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him toward the boxes of ornaments our family has collected over the years.
It’s one of the few things my mother enjoyed. It’s why I’ve kept them; they remind me of happier times.
It has nothing to do with my father.
“Well, I think this is a nice distraction since we can’t attack the Umbra until tomorrow,” Matthias says, and Cade nods, handing Neo another ornament. He’s sloppily placing them on the tree, mostly on one side, but none of us has the heart to say anything.
So we just let it be.
Because he seems happy. And if I’m honest, this is the first time I’ve felt happy around this holiday as well.
It was always something I had to do. Something I dreaded. The effort of putting on a show of being happy, of exchanging gifts I didn’t want to give.
But now I realize I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to giving Neo something, to seeing his reaction as he opens up his gifts from me and the family.
I’m even looking forward to seeing what he’ll get me, and I normally hate receiving gifts.
My gaze is pulled to Samson, who is trying to frisbee a wreath into the fireplace, but he’s stopped by Harley, who tackles him to the ground.
“Don’t ruin the wreath! It’s a classic.”
“It’s growing mold,” Samson says as they fall to the couch and then onto the floor, Harley under Samson, his hands around his throat.
“It’s not. It’s perfectly fine.”
“The acorn looks like a tiny executioner! I won’t have that shit looking at me all Christmas. It’s a bad omen!”
Matthias sighs loudly, and Jackson bites back a laugh, exchanging a look with Dalton.
“How much eggnog did he have?” Neo asks, pulling my gaze back to him. He’s looking up at me, his drink nearly gone.
“Not enough,” I sigh as Dalton moves toward my wrestling brothers, dragging Samson into a headlock and pulling him off Harley.
“Enough. You know he’s weaker than all of us,” Dalton says. “You have an advantage.”
“I’m not weaker,” Harley gasps, sitting up from the floor, his cheeks flushed. “I’m probably the toughest out of all of you! I swallow tinfoil!”
Dalton chuckles at that and then shoves him roughly. He falls back against the rug and lets out a disgruntled cough.
“You have the advantage,” Harley hisses.
“Enough of this weird posturing. You swallowing tinfoil makes you a fool,” Dalton says, and Harley glowers at his brother while Samson once again tries to place the wreath into the fire.
He manages a little, but before it can go entirely up in flames, Matthias grabs it from him and holds it toward Wyatt, who pours his eggnog onto it. It makes Jules gasp in derision.
“My eggnog! You idiot!”
I can’t help but let out a small laugh at the chaos surrounding us.
Neo leans into me, hiccuping slightly, a smile on his flushed face. “I thought this Christmas decoration thing would be more traditional, you know? More fancy shit and boring music, but I think I like the weird chaos right now. Makes me feel like less of an outcast.”
“You’re not an outcast. Not here. If anyone is, it’s Samson.” I lean down and whisper, “Do you know he likes to dance with axes?”
Neo giggles. “I did catch him once when he didn’t know I was watching. I have a recording of it.”
“Send it to me. The Firm can always use blackmail material.”
“Even against family?”
“Even more so. There are things I’d like my brothers to do that they push back against.”
“Like what?”
I shrug. “Like do what I say without arguing.”
His eyes twinkle slightly. “I don’t know if even blackmail will stop them from arguing.”
I chuck him under the chin and then lean down slightly to kiss those plump pink lips once more. God, he’s delicious. Even more so when he tastes like spice and bourbon.
When we come up for air, he touches his lips softly and turns his gaze toward the tree, cocking his head. “God, the entire tree looks lopsided, doesn’t it? I think I put too many ornaments on one side.”
He absolutely did, most of the ornaments sitting about Neo’s height and only on the front, but I bite my tongue and shake my head.
“No. It looks perfect. This is better than any tree we’ve ever had.”
“It is. I love what you did with it, friend,” Ansel says, moving toward us and handing Neo another glass of eggnog. “Jules insists you have another. I think you may already be drunk though.”
Neo cradles the glass in his hands. “No, I want it. I’ve never had such good eggnog. It’s weirdly addictive.”
“It’s disgusting. Drinking eggs and nutmeg.
Would rather cut off my lips,” Samson says before being smacked over the head with an oversized candy cane by none other than Jules himself.
Only problem is, he does it with such force that it bounces off Samson’s head and hits Jules in the face, making Harley jump up and rush to his aid.
Jules is standing there, slightly shocked, the candy cane limp in his hand.
“Oh my god! Are you okay? Someone call 911. He’s immobile! He’s having an embolism!”
Neo bites back a choked laugh and takes another large swig of his eggnog. “What are the chances the house is going to burn down before Christmas?”
“Hm,” I say and touch his cheek gently. “I think the odds are in Samson’s favor.”