Home for Christmas: New Adult Holiday Dark Suspense Romance (6 page)

She stopped, staring at him, feeling her whole body go cold.

“Who?” Her mouth felt dry, her eyes hot.

“Your sister, Maggie?” He frowned at the look on her face.

“How do you know...?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Her hands were shaking and she set her hot chocolate on the table.

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” Nick asked, realization dawning in his eyes.

“Should I?” She swallowed, blinking at him.

The radio on his belt went off and Nick frowned down at it.

“Damn, I gotta go.” He stood, tipping her a little salute. “I’ll see you around, Ginny.”

She sat in her chair, dumbfounded, too numb to move. Her limbs refused to respond. What in the hell had just happened? How had he known her sister’s name? She knew that, while she had slipped and given him her real name at Barnes and Noble, she’d never told him about her sister.

Had he looked her up? The thought made her want to throw up.

She glanced down at the table and saw that, for the second time in two days, he’d left food for her. His jelly donut was untouched, but he’d taken his coffee with him. Ginny stared after him, watching as he neared his squad car. She’d relaxed a little around him that afternoon, chiding herself that she was being paranoid, but it turned out her instincts had been right on.

He was a cop. And he had pulled her record. Which meant he knew she was a runaway—she had no doubt Brody had reported her as missing, even if she wasn’t a minor anymore. Had he called Brody, one cop to another? Was Brody, as she sat there in a Dunkin’ Donuts booth, on his way to Lewisonville to collect her?

Another cop car pulled up beside Nick’s and she dropped lower in the booth. She couldn’t read the side of it, didn’t know if it said Millsberg or Lewisonville, but she had a sinking feeling it was the former. It was Brody. Of course, it was. Nick had radioed Brody, and whatever numbers had come across his radio was just some secret cop code for his arrival.

She watched, feeling paralyzed, unable to move, but her eyes searched the parking lot. She took in everything—the way Nick stopped to talk to the other cop, leaning down toward the open window. He had a strong jaw, with a little dent in it. She noticed how the wind blew Nick’s short, brown hair back from his angular features. Nick said something to the other cop, and then smiled. He had a nice smile. He’d seemed so nice. And appearances were so deceiving, weren’t they?

She couldn’t see the other officer, which was good, because she didn’t want him to see her, even if it wasn’t Brody. She didn’t want to be seen by any more cops than necessary. She was two hours away from home, but still, the one thing she’d learned about cops, living with Brody, was that they were all brothers. And they had access to everything. They could find anything out about you they wanted to at a keyboard. Even from their cars.

Ginny found herself sinking even lower when the other cop’s door swung open. She saw right away that it wasn’t Brody—this cop was too fat to be Brody. Thank God. She glanced toward the door as she wrapped the rest of the donuts in Dunkin’ Donuts napkins and put them into her backpack. Her hot chocolate was gone anyway. It was time to go.

It wasn’t until she stood, seeing the other cop in profile, that her knees went out from under her. The other cop looked like he’d spent a lot of time at Dunkin’ Donuts, not necessarily drinking coffee. The other cop was as tall as Nick and, looking at the two of them together, she thought it was like looking at some strange reflection. The other cop was like an older, beefier version of his son.

You don’t remember me, do you?

She remembered now.

Ginny bolted toward the bathroom, barely making it to the stall before she threw up a hot, chocolatey mess. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

She stayed in the stall until Dunkin’ Donuts closed—the cashier came in to tell her—sitting on the toilet, trembling with fear. Ginny apologized to the girl, told her she was feeling ill, which wasn’t a lie. She walked out on shaky legs, but both cruisers were gone.

The video store wasn’t closed yet, so she went around to the back of the building and sat under the glow of a streetlight, but she didn’t take out her sketch pad. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried not to remember. She knew she should get up and take off, go somewhere far, far away, but she didn’t have the energy.

How old had they been, the last time she’d seen Nick Santos? Seventh grade, maybe. That made her think of Mr. Spencer. He’d been in Mr. Spencer’s math class with her, hadn’t he? She thought so. That was before Nick and his dad moved from Millsberg, their tiny little town, to Lewisonville, a bustling metropolis in comparison. All ten thousand residents of it.

Why hadn’t she made the connection? Maybe because it had been years since she saw them, Nick and his father. Brody still hunted with Steven Santos, she knew—it was a blissful week-long break when they went off together to drink beer and shoot and things—but she never saw the man. Steve Santos hadn’t started coming around until last year—right around Christmas. And while she remembered that he had a son, she hadn’t recognized Nick when she saw him.

But he had recognized her. No wonder she thought he’d been following her!

And maybe he had. Maybe he and his father were, right now, telling Brody she was holing up in Lewisonville. But she didn’t think so. If Nick was going to turn her over to Brody, he would have done it already, she thought. She’d seen him for the first time at least a week ago. And they’d run into each other—literally—in the book store the other day, and he clearly recognized her, even if she hadn’t recognized him.

She remembered Nick as tall, gangly, awkward and a little shy. They’d gone swimming in the summer together at the local pond. Maggie was always forced to let Ginny tag along, which her older sister resented. Ginny thought Nick had a crush on Maggie for the longest time, the way he hung around them. It was a whole summer—that was after seventh grade, she remembered—before Maggie finally told her it was Ginny he liked. But he was almost four years older, and then he moved away, and that was that.

Now here he was again. That information was enough to process, but Nick wasn’t the problem, although he might turn into one. It was his father, Steven, Brody’s hunting buddy, who was the real problem. And “problem” was the understatement of the century. It was Steven Santos who was the other man on the memory card sitting in her bag. He had just as much reason to find her as Brody did—and the man was right here in town.

If Nick Santos breathed one word to his father about her—even mentioned that he’d seen her—she knew she was dead. She needed a way out of this town. Out of this life. And fast. Thinking about missing Maggie and the boys on Christmas made her heart ache. She didn’t want to leave them, not yet. It was only a week and a half away. Could she hide until then? Did she dare?

Could she trust Nick not to say anything?

She just didn’t know.

It was one in the morning when she remembered she had food in her pocket. She’d completely forgotten it in all the earlier excitement. Her stomach thanked her, making all sorts of noises as she licked powdered sugar off her fingers. It wasn’t the first time hunger had woken her, that beast crawling deep in her belly, but it was one of the few times she had a little extra food.

The light outside felt different. Maybe it was just that most nights she was asleep by now, wrapped up in her coat, head on her backpack, curled tightly into the corner. She had never seen a security guard or a police car cruise the parking lot—not even Nick—but she didn’t want any of her limbs hanging out in line of sight of the doorway. She had learned to be cautious. Very cautious.

When she had polished off the rest of Nick’s jelly donut, she crumpled the napkin and stuck it back into her pocket. The jar of peanut butter she’d found was still there, in reserve. Sighing, she wrapped her coat around herself and curled up in the corner again.

It wasn’t easy to get comfortable. The floor was hard and cold, her backpack lumpy. She tried to pack it so the clothes were on the side where she rested her head. There wasn’t ever any getting away from the cold, even bundled up. Her fingers and toes were always freezing, and in the morning, they were stiff and they ached. In fact, her whole body felt that way. Still, her stomach no longer felt like it was eating itself. She was relieved that, for a little while, she might be able to get some peace, just a brief respite, a few hours of sleep. She’d think about what she was going to do tomorrow.

It came like a strange cross between a memory and a dream. Brody in his uniform wielding a broom like a nightstick, the closest thing he could find, chasing a pregnant Maggie into a corner and beating her until the handle broke. Ginny stood frozen in dream-like paralysis in the doorway, her fear overriding her guilt at not moving to defend her sister. She heard Maggie screaming and Brody yelling at her.

“Get out! Get the fuck out! Get out before the cops come!”

Ginny’s head came up, fuzzy and throbbing upon waking, as if she had been the one beaten. She understood it was a dream, and realized the words still echoing in her head,
“Get out before the cops come!”
weren’t Brody’s words at all. They were very real—and they were coming from inside the video store.

There were people inside the video store and they were heading toward the exit—
her exit.
She saw three of them, heads bobbing back and forth over the shelves. Ginny moved without thinking, knowing she had to get out of there. She crouched, grabbing her backpack and reaching for the door handle. They were coming now, one of them stopping to punch a security code.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here, Luke! Hurry up!”

Ginny stood, ready to run. There was just no time. A few minutes earlier and she could have been safely in the alleyway behind the building. There was no avoiding it now. They saw her the minute the door swung open and everyone stood rigid, the shock of being caught leaving them all stunned and breathless. For a moment, she thought she might faint, but she willed it not to happen.

The tall one broke the spell, hissing, “Go, man! Fucking GO! GO! GO!” They all pushed past her to the exit, knocking her aside.

Her backpack caught onto something one of them was holding. She felt a sharp tug, something gave way, and the guy bringing up the rear gave up the struggle as he continually repeated, “She saw us!” while they all fumbled out the door.

It was over as quickly as it had started. She stood for a moment, watching their taillights disappear out of the parking lot, wondering if she had been dreaming. She looked down at her feet and saw what one of them had dropped. She hesitated only a moment before she grabbed it and bolted out the door, running in the opposite direction until the ache in her side forced her to slow.

She didn’t even know where she was. She had run into the neighborhood behind the strip mall, and had made as many turns as she could, hoping no one was watching or following her. Panting, she sat down on the curb next to a parked car. Leaning her head against the bumper, she tried to stop the shaking. She felt faint for a moment, but the feeling washed over her and then passed.

She couldn’t live this way anymore. She had to do something. Anything. No matter where she went, she felt as if the world were closing in on her, as if she really was the trash Brody always claimed, being compacted into a neat little throwaway piece. She and Maggie had lived under the cloud of Brody’s viewpoint for so long they both believed it was true—they didn’t deserve any better.

But the boys did.

Ginny remembered them this afternoon, a million years ago now, Sean’s sticky hand in hers, Michael’s long legs flailing underneath him on the swing, begging for purchase. She was determined neither of them would ever know what it would be like to live as human garbage.

The tears came. She swiped at them, but they came too fast for her to stop them, falling onto the bag lying between her feet. Her hands trembled as she picked it up and, without thinking, she pulled the drawstring and looked inside.

“No,” she whispered, feeling instant salvation and damnation settle in the pit of her stomach like an anchor.

There was no denying the reality of what was in the bag. She took it out and counted it there in the glow of a streetlight, and then she counted it again, because it was more cash than she’d ever seen in her lifetime.

Twelve-hundred dollars.

She looked around but the street retained the early morning quiet the suburbs often did, house lights dark, blinds closed, a world asleep. Just standing was a struggle, between the exhaustion and the weight that felt as if it had been lodged somewhere beneath her rib cage. She didn’t know how she was going to manage to walk to the shelter in this state.

She was no longer a part of this world where houses were warm, beds were soft and food existed as if by magic in refrigerators. She wanted the boys to be. It was the best Christmas gift she could think of to give them.

She tucked the money deep into her backpack and zipped it, shrugging it on, ignoring the taut ache of her muscles and the numbing exhaustion creeping into her limbs. She walked just to keep moving, unsure of her destination, following the thought of sleep like an illusion, a mirage she chased on some distant moonlit pavement.

* * * *

“Hey, Mags, do you remember Nick Santos?” Ginny asked her sister as they went through the dumpster out behind the mission.

“Oh my God, what made you think of him?” Maggie brushed hair out of her face with her mittens, glancing behind her at the boys climbing up the distant hill. They were little dots from where they stood, their high voices, calling to one another and laughing, carrying toward them on the wind.

“I saw him the other day.” Ginny’s voice echoed in the dumpster as she hung halfway in to reach a perfect boy-sized cardboard box. She pulled it out, triumphant, tossing it next to the other one she’d found behind the dumpster. It had grease on the bottom, but that was fine, because it had a sort of wax coating all over. That’s exactly what she was looking for.

“Oh yeah.” Maggie frowned, her brow knitted. “Isn’t his dad... oh fuck. Ginny, his dad’s the chief of police here!”

Ginny nodded, taking paper out of the box and tossing it into the dumpster.

“Does he know I’m here?” Maggie shook her arm, eyes wide. “Oh God, how did I not remember that?”

“He doesn’t know about you.” Ginny put one box into the other. “But Nick saw me. We talked. I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Thank God.” Maggie relaxed a little. “I can’t wait to get out of here. I’m so glad Tim forgot about the money in the safety deposit box. That means we can get that apartment.”

“I’m glad too.” Ginny had given her the money and told her it came from the safety deposit box. The decision hadn’t been an easy one, exactly—but in spite of the wrongness of it, it felt like the right thing to do at the time.

More than anything, she wanted to see her sister and her nephews in their own place before Christmas, safe and happy, before she left. Once her sister was established, once she started working, Brody would find her. Brody would come looking for Ginny, come looking for the evidence she had in her bag, and Ginny would have to be gone. There was no way around that. But until then, she thought they would be safe enough.

Relatively safe. That’s what she had to live with until she could get on a bus and go somewhere safer. Nick knowing her, knowing Maggie, was a problem, but she really believed, if he was going to say something, it would have happened already. Besides, Brody had seen her in the coffee shop, he likely was looking all over Millsberg for Ginny. He didn’t suspect she was here in a neighboring town two hours away. He knew Tim and Maggie had split, of course, but he didn’t know where Maggie was. At least, she hoped not. And Tim... well, he had disappeared with all Maggie’s cash, including whatever had been in the safe deposit box, and Ginny didn’t think he would ever come back.

“Gin...” Maggie stopped her as they headed toward the hill, tugging on her sleeve.

“What?” She was carrying the boxes as she turned to face her sister. Maggie looked more relaxed than she’d seen her in weeks.

“I’m sorry about the other day.” Maggie’s eyes started well up with tears. “I’m just so stressed. You have no idea. It’s so hard, telling the boys their dad isn’t coming back... and trying to reassure them that it’s all going to be okay...”

“I know.” Ginny felt her own chin start to tremble, tears threatening too. She knew about stress. She knew about trying to make it all look okay. She knew but she couldn’t say anything to her sister. She wouldn’t. It was Maggie and the boys she wanted to protect, and even if it killed her, she was going to do that. “I know, Mags, I know.”

Maggie reached out and hugged her, knocking the boxes out of Ginny’s arms into the snow. Ginny hugged her back, feeling hot tears falling, trying to wish them away. It was almost over. She would stay through Christmas, and then she would head to California, somewhere Brody would never find her. He might talk to Maggie, he might even threaten her, if he found her, but only to try to find out where Ginny was. He didn’t want to have anything to do with Maggie anymore, not since Sean was born, really. She was damaged goods.

Ginny was the one he wanted now.

“I love you, Gin,” her sister whispered in her ear.

“I know,” Ginny whispered back, taking what comfort she could in her sister’s arms, like she used to when she skinned her knee falling off her bike. “I love you too, Mags.”

It had been hard on both of them, not having a mother, Ginny realized as they parted, Maggie helped her with the boxes, grabbing one and handing her the other as they marched toward the hill. They’d lost their mother and had lost the stepfather lottery big time, but they’d made the best of it. It made them closer, really, in the end. But she thought Maggie had gotten the worst of it, because while Maggie was playing the mother role, she had no one around to mother her.

Now, she was a real mother, with two very real little boys she loved very much, and Ginny thought they were the luckiest little kids in the world. Her sister had always been a good mother to Ginny, and now she was a good mother to them. Ginny was glad the boys had her.

“You guys ready to go sledding?” Ginny called to her nephews. They were rolling around in the snow, giggling together.

“We don’t have sleds,” Sean reminded her, looking askance at the boxed.

“Aunt Ginny is going to make you each a sled,” Maggie told them with a smile as she handed her sister the other box. Ginny was already tearing and folding the cardboard, assessing the size of each of them as she did. “She’s very resourceful.”

You don’t know the half of it, Ginny thought, feeling her sister’s hand on her shoulder.

And, if Ginny had anything to do with it, she never would.