Page 11 of Silent Night

I should walk away now. By New Year’s, I can be far away from her, and next Christmas when I pick my mark, I’ll ensure it’s no one related to her. Twice is a weird twist of fate. Three would be a goddamn sign of my budding obsession.

Instead of walking away, I find myself crossing the road, pulling my hood over my face in case anyone sees me sulking around. I follow the same path I took last night so there’s only one set of footprints in the fluffy snow. Thankfully, more snow is soon forecasted and will completely cover my tracks.

I slip inside the shed again, peering through to the back of the house, skimming over every window. The kitchen’s lights are low, her bedroom’s turned off. By my third pass, movement catches my attention in the large living room bay window, the giant tree taking up most of the space. Behind it, though, a man moves toward a woman, his arms gesturing as he talks.

I’d die to know what her and her stepbrother are talking about. I didn’t like how he touched her last night. Seemed way too familiar for family, step or not, but then I figured I might not be the best judge of character, considering my lack of family and understanding of familial ties.

I stay there all day, watching the two of them move throughout the house, until finally evening falls and with it, the sun. Lights switch on upstairs, and then off, my sweet girl getting comfortable in her bed once again as she lies down, readying for what I’m sure will be a happy Christmas morning.

I slip out of the shed, knowing I should go before I find myself unable to leave her. Before an obsession kicks off, or I find a reason to intervene on her life.

I tell myself I only want another present. More cash to hold me off.

I head for the back door, jimmying the lock once again, kickingsnow off my shoes with help from the bricks before entering. The kitchen is dark and déjà vu hits, but instead of going to the fridge, I quietly tread down the wide hallway until passing the living room, that damn huge tree glowing its signals of domestic happiness.

White lights wrap the fake branches, colourful and sparkly ornaments hanging from them. Tinsel drapes much of it too, strands falling onto the obnoxious number of gifts, but it gives me an idea.

I walk to the tree, knowing I could very well get the answer I crave from the gift tags, but would prefer she tell me herself. I tug a few strands of the tinsel off the tree and a bow from a wrapped gift before turning back toward the carpeted stairs.

At the top, I turn toward the right side of the house, heading for the area I know her room to be. The door across from her is also shut, the light off, and I presume it to be her stepbrother’s.

Watching his door, I grasp her doorknob and twist slowly, waiting for thecrackto allow me inside. When all remains silent from the other room, I slip inside hers and shut the door, closing it as gently as I opened it.

She makes no noise, and I wait for my eyes to start adjusting to the dark before moving toward her. She’s tucked in bed, looking even more innocent than when she found me in the kitchen. The blanket dips low on her chest, one arm beneath, the other resting to her side, exactly how I’ve pictured her sleeping. Her head faces the window, strands of hair resting on her cheek. Her curtain is drawn, lighting up a strip of her.

I approach the bed, lowering down on one knee beside her and reach out to stroke a finger along her smooth cheek. She makes a low noise, moves slightly but doesn’t change her position.

My thumb drags along her bottom lip, wondering if she tastes like sugar. It’s the holidays, and sugar is almost as vital as presents for people like her kind, no? I long to test the theory for myself.

She shifts in her sleep, turning her head to the side, so I continue stroking down the column of her neck until reaching the top of her tank.She’s so fucking soft, and better wake soon because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop unless she demands I do.

I draw the blanket down, letting the change in temperature wake her. She shifts again, but still doesn’t, so I find the patch of skin between her shirt and shorts and pet it, dragging the pad of my finger along her skin before trailing over her shorts, pressing a bit harder in the place between her thighs.

She moans, shifting her legs before tensing. I smile into the darkness. Finally, she’s awake.

“What—?”

I move up the bed, placing my hand over her mouth before she can shout and ruin everything I have planned for her.

“Shh.” I lower myself so her wide, fearful eyes can take me in. If she had more self-preservation, she’d be even more scared now, but instead, her gaze softens before flicking to the window. “I came in through the back door,” I answer her silent question. “Will you scream if I let go of your mouth?”

She shakes her head so I slowly release her, testing her truth-telling ability. She props herself up on her elbows, staring down at me. “Saint.” My name on her lips is better than any dessert they have downstairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Came back for another present.” I shift to kneel at the end of her bed, pulling the blanket completely off her before reaching into my pocket and sprinkling the tinsel over her chest, amused at my gift-wrapping ability. “Merry Christmas, sweet girl. Ho, ho, ho, and all that shit.”And Happy Birthday to me.Twenty-six opportunities to celebrate my cursed birth, and this is about to be the only time I do.

Her legs fall open, though I’m not entirely sure she realizes she’s done it. Her shorts are tiny, granting me a peek of red cloth beneath.The perfect little gift.I want to determine if she’s as sweet down there as her nickname suggests.

“I thought you left.” She glances at the tinsel on her body but doesn’t remove it.

I should have.“You sound hopeful.”Give me a reason to leave now before I dirty you.

“I-I…” She trails off, biting her bottom lip before sucking in her cheeks. Even in the dark, I can spot her cheeks darkening as she blushes with the truth she refuses to admit.

“It’s okay, my sweet girl. I gave you a taste of danger and that’s why you were hoping I’d come to finish the job. You want to play on the wild side, and I give you that perfect, ideal opportunity, right?”

Her brows furrow, almost hurt. “No, I was worried about you.”

I hum, reaching over to shift her arms until she thumps back to the bed, her head on her pillow once more. I crawl up her body, holding myself above her, one hand on either side of her body. “You’re too caring for your own good. Someone’s gonna hurt you one day.”

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