Page 47 of My Secret Santa Clayton

“Publishing that story is dangerous,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I know,” she replied, meeting my gaze. “But it's the right thing to do.”

I looked at her, remembering the times I faced death in the field. The reality was stark and simple; Grace was in the crosshairs of something much bigger than any of us. “You're notjust exposing a petty criminal,” I said. “You're going up against the mob.”

“Which is why I need to do this myself,” she insisted.

Kat leaned forward, her voice softer. “At least tell Deputy Langley. He's a friend. He can help.”

Grace shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “No. I appreciate it, but no. I have to handle this on my own terms.”

“Grace—” I started.

“Give me three days,” she continued. “If I haven't resolved this by then, you can go to the cops.”

Gabe exchanged a glance with Kat. They wanted to help, to protect her, but Grace was setting the terms. We all knew what was at stake.

We had to trust her, even if every instinct told me otherwise.

TWENTY-ONE

Grace

It could be my last night on earth.

Yeah…maybe I was being dramatic, sure. But I’d seen my informants killed, seen horrible things. I knew there was a good chance the mob would find me and I would be done for.

That was why I was trying to enjoy it—this transient sensation of safety.

I sat on Clay's couch, ceramic mug warm in my hands. Bear lay at my feet, his breathing steady and deep. Through the window, frost etched delicate patterns on the glass, obscuring the clear night beyond. Inside, the fire crackled in the hearth.

It all felt so peaceful, like a snapshot of normalcy that I hadn't realized I'd been craving.

“Looks like the power’s holding up,” I murmured to myself. That was good; I didn’t know if I could handle another outage, not when the threats to my life had gotten so intense. Last night had been different; now, I knew there were people in Silver Ridge who wanted me dead.

The story hung over me, an axe about to drop. I knew the risks—knew them intimately. The moment my words hit thepress, it would be like sounding an alarm for the vultures circling my life.

I could already imagine the chaos, the danger that would follow.

It would drag anyone around me in, too. I’d put the people I loved in danger by coming here.

I was so, so stupid. But desperation can make you lose sight of what’s right.

“Once it's out, they'll have to help,” I whispered to Bear, trying to convince myself more than anyone else. “The police, the townspeople...they'll stand by me.”

A shiver ran through me, but it wasn't from the cold. It was fear, pure and simple. The kind that comes when you know you're about to stir a hornet's nest with nothing but hope as your shield.

And yet, there was no turning back.

Not now.

Not when silence meant complicity.

Bear lifted his head, sensing the shift in my mood, and I reached down to stroke his fur. His presence, the solidness of him, offered a small comfort. For a fleeting second, I allowed myself to imagine a different life, one without secrets and threats lurking in the shadows.

“Easy, boy,” I said. “We've got a storm coming, don't we?”

Clay entered the room, his steps quiet against the wooden floor. He didn't say a word as he took a seat next to me on the couch. His arm found its way around my shoulder, drawing me into his side. I leaned into him, the warmth of his body seeping into my chilled bones.

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