Page 71 of Home for Christmas in July

I turn back to him. “You really like to break things, huh?”

“I’d like to break you,” he hisses.

I force my frozen face muscles into a slow smile. “It must really bother you that you couldn’t break me all those years ago. For you to come all this way, chasing after me. Kind of pathetic.”

He’s going to slap me. I know he’s going to slap me, and I want him to.

Sure enough, he raises his right hand and backhands me across my left cheek, whipping my head to the right.

Oof.My cheek stings. A lot. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

He laughs. As I move my head back to face him, I slip my right hand into my pocket and wrap my fist around the piece of glass.

He’s still laughing when I pull my hand out and drive the glass right into his thigh with all my might. As I’d hoped, it hits his femoral artery, which I know by the bright red blood that spurts out.

He howls and I take several quick steps back as the front door crashes open and Nick runs into the lodge, clutching a hammer. Santas and Lords stream in behind him, followed by Griselda, Sensei Adam, and Enrique.

Nick’s standing over Dante, who’s collapsed on the floor. I walk over and take the hammer out of his hand. “You brought the cavalry. Thank you for rescuing me.”

I press a kiss to his lips.

“Looks like you rescued yourself, Noe.”

He kisses me back.

I hand the hammer to Griselda and say to nobody in particular, “I stabbed him in the femoral artery. If he doesn’t get first aid in the next seven minutes, he’s going to bleed to death.”

I swear I watch Griselda consider just letting him die. Then she sighs heavily and starts to shrug off her sparkly shawl. But one of the Lords stops her.

“I’m an emergency department doctor,” he tells her with clear reluctance. “So I have a duty to save this piece of poop.” He raises his voice. “I need a tourniquet!”

Well, boo. I untie the silk sash from my dress and hand it to him.

“This’ll work. Thanks. Hey, how did you know where to stab him?”

“I read it in a thriller. Reading is fundamental, you know.”

Nick is staring at me. “You just almost killed himandsaved his life.”

“Carol’s note told me not to die regretting missed opportunities,” I explain with a shrug.

“We’re going to go to the hospital and get you checked out. Ivy’s waiting in the car.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

“There’s a handprint on your face, and a bloody wound on the side of your head, Noelle.”

“Oh, right. Shouldn’t we wait for the police, though?”

Nick turns to Santa Jamal. “You’re in charge. When the police get here explain what happened and tell them they can interview Noelle at the medical center.”

“You got it.”

We head for the door. Nick has his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

“Wait,” I tell him when we reach the threshold.

He stops. I turn around and take in the ragtag band that rode to my rescue. My friends and neighbors.

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