Page 5 of Stalking Christmas

A deep, rumbling laugh escapes me at the picture he paints with his words. I laugh so hard at the image of my eager-to-please, shiny, and perfect younger brother getting himself into such a damaging situation. “It’s not funny, Nicholas. This could crucify me in the polls. He killed someone, and left them there bleeding in the middle of the street.”

As much as I want to keep laughing, he’s right. This is not funny, and my brother is an idiot. Knowing him, there is no way he took care of the hooker who witnessed what he did, or covered his tracks with the body. “Where is the body?” I question as I strip down and palm my cock again with sadness, knowing full well I’m not likely to get another round in now.

“At the city morgue, listed as a hit and run. It will only be a matter of time before they start going back through the traffic cams, and the local CCTV. They’ll see it was him, because he was driving his own car.” The sound of something shattering, onhis side of the line, gives me a good indication of how worked up he is already. Great, my father is an asshole on a good day. A little fear of losing everything he’s got will make him bloody unbearable, and I don’t look forward to having to be in his malignant presence. “I’ll take care of it. Have him meet me at the Scrambled Fork in forty minutes, and Dad, you’ll fucking owe me for this shit. No more playing Santa at your events.”

I hang up the phone on him before he can get another word out, and turn the water to the highest setting. It sluices down my hard, rigid body, causing my muscles to relax, and my tattooed skin to redden. Thoughts of what I want to do to Chrissy re-enter my mind, and I fuck my palm hard and fast, until my cum paints the tiled wall of my shower.

I hope she’s as much fun in real life as she is in my imagination. I guess we’re about to find out.

Chapter 6

The Gift

The morning rush has finally died down, and I can finally catch my breath. I’m just about to grab some much-needed food, and head to the back for my break, when the diner door opens, and in walks a large, dark-haired man, with a black leather backpack thrown over one of his shoulders. He has to duck his head as he enters the doorway, and he pushes the wood and glass diner door wide to accommodate his sizable form. My eyes survey his huge, muscled physique, taking in his expensive-looking, open, charcoal gray wool jacket, and the burnt orange knit sweater below, right down to his dark denim jeans and theblack combat boots on his feet. His head’s tipped low, so I can’t get a good look at his face. However, I’m guessing he’s a looker based on the rest of him.

“Chrissy, that one’s yours, I’m going on my break now,” Dolores groans as she quickly walks to the kitchen, and avoids my glaring look. Dammit, I was next to take a break, my feet are killing me, even in myConverse. With a giant sigh, I walk over to the table where he’s getting settled, the one furthest from the door and kitchen, which will mean extra steps for me.Asshole. I drop the menu on the table in front of him and pull out my notebook. When my eyes finally glimpse his face, my breath chokes me, and I end up gasping and coughing like a fool.

“You alright?” His deep, husky voice questions, as he slips off his jacket and meets my surprised gaze. I lift a few fingers, indicating he should hold on while I die, or cough up one of my lungs in front of him. When I finally have myself under control, and I can feel the heat of mortification rising all along my neck and face, I croak and wince, “Fine. I’m just fine.”

Intense dark gray eyes, that remind me of molten silver, narrow as they meet mine, the corners crinkled. His forehead furrows, causing a line to appear between his dark, thick brows. My gaze slides lower to his straight Greek nose, and descends to his full, pink lips, the top one slightly plumper than the bottom.His face has a dark shadow of a day or two’s facial growth, with a few hints of gray hiding within the dark, giving him a further air of intrigue.Damn, this guy is seriously gorgeous.

His mouth twitches as if he can read my lustful thoughts, obviously trying to disguise a smile at my expense. I roll my eyes at him, and ensure my fictitious armor is back in place. Men, no matter how they look, don’t impress me; underneath, they are all the same, animals.

“I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu. Can I get you something to drink in the meantime?” I question, as the desireto get as far away from him as possible causes my body to tense up. I wonder if I can bribe Dolores to come back out and take this table. Maybe if I offer to scrape all the gum from below the tables alone on Sunday, she’ll do me this solid.

“Coffee, black, and I have someone joining me, so leave a second menu,” he dismisses me with an abrupt tone that somehow pisses me off immediately. I give him my back, going to get the coffee pot and gripping it tightly, even though the unreasonable need to pour it in his lap is trying to convince me to do just that. Fuck, get your shit together, Chrissy, we need this job, and can’t afford to get fired, because of someone like this. I place another menu down across from him and head back behind the counter without another word.

He doesn’t even bother to look over the sticky menu. He just pulls out his shiny laptop and starts keying away, oblivious to my gaze. What is someone like him doing in this neighborhood, and eating at this hole-in-the-wall? He doesn’t look like he belongs here, and I’m positive I’ve never seen him in here before. My curiosity instantly annoys me, and I force myself to go about my business, checking on the other two tables I still have to finish up, and attempting to ignore his presence.

After a few minutes, the door opens again, and another large male enters the diner. This one’s slimmer than the first, but their similar features immediately hint at the fact that they must be related. He scans the restaurant until he lays eyes on the first guy, and makes his way over. If the original guy stuck out like a sore thumb in here, this one’s even worse. This guy’s wearing a three-piece navy blue checkered suit, with a dark overcoat thrown on top, and shiny loafers. A snort escapes me before I can contain it, at his appearance, and it causes the first man to raise his gaze my way. His eyes scan over the guy rapidly approaching him, and a scowl crosses his features.

I watch from a distance as the clean-cut guy removes his expensive coat and takes a seat, and they begin a conversation in hushed tones, both leaning forward in their seats, so their conversation can’t be overheard. I wonder if these two are developers or something. Maybe they’re scoping out the neighborhood with the intention of buying up all the homes, and kicking everyone out, so they can gentrify the area. My anger begins to simmer just below the boiling point at the possibility. I can already barely afford to live in the crappy rundown house I share with Daisy and Toothless. If the area starts getting bought out, where the hell are we going to go?

I walk over with the coffee pot, hoping to catch their conversation and confirm my suspicions. The minute I get close, the two of them stop speaking and lean back in their seats. The newcomer glares at the larger man, and never bothers to look my way as I pour coffee into a cup and place it in front of him. “You know what you want to order?” I question with a snarky tone bordering on hostility. The slender guy pries his eyes from his companion and finally looks in my direction. The glance he gives me is all heat; he sits up and turns his whole body my way as he gives me a full body perusal, starting at my redConverse, over my ripped black skinny jeans, and up to myAerosmithband tee that has seen better days. I notice he’s cataloging all my exposed flesh, and my few visible tattoos. The look is so intense that it causes a shiver to race down my spine. He’s looking at me like I’m a tasty treat he wants to consume.

“Ow, what the fuck, Nic?” He jumps back, pushing his slender suited form into the bright blue vinyl banquet seating, a vicious scowl on his face, directed at the man across from him.Did he just kick him for staring at me?My glance moves back and forth between them, and there’s a furious, predatory look coming from the larger man. His lips are downturned into a grimace, and his eyes glare daggers, that resemble pieces of flint, at theslender man. “Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll do more than kick you, Micah.”

Nic and Micah, I file that information away in my mind in case I need it. “Are you two ready to order, or are you just going to take up a table all day?” The one named Nic looks around the diner with an amused expression. “I can see how busy you are in here. The place is swarmed with patrons. I guess you’ll be needing the table straight away, right?”What a douche.

“That’s irrelevant. This is a business. Order something or leave.” I fold my arms across my chest, and his eyes track the movement, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. Everything about this guy is making red flags wave vigorously in my mind. He’s a walking trigger warning, and my stupid lady parts are not heeding the warning.

“Pretty lady, let me apologize for my brother’s rudeness. I’ll take whatever your breakfast special is, with a side of taking you out later on a date.”Jesus, what a corn dog.My eyes glance at Micah, and I compare his features against those of his brother. He has the same gray eyes, but his are lighter and filled with mischief. His nose is the same, but his face is more slender and clean-shaven, compared to his brother’s more rugged masculine look. He has a cupid’s bow on his pouty lips, and he flashes me his pearly whites in a teasing grin. Where his brother is muscled, with a thick neck, this guy is built more like a swimmer, lean and slim.

“Does shit like that ever work for you?” I reply, my voice and expression filled with disdain.

Micah jerks back as if I’ve slapped him, and Nic releases a loud, throaty, and manly chuckle that has my core tightening. “I’m sorry, what?” Micah asks with incredulity, as if he can’t wrap his head around the fact that a woman wouldn’t fall for his shitty charm, and cheesy pickup line. I lean forward until my lower body is pressed against the diner table, and I’m staringright into his widening eyes. “You’re not as hot, or as slick, as you think you are.” Amusement fills me as his jaw drops open, before I pull away from him and stand back up. “Order something, or get the hell out.”

Micah sniffs, his arms folding across his chest, and his mouth set in a hard line as if I’ve offended him. He yanks his gaze away from me, staring across the table at Nic. “Two of the specials, don’t fucking spit in them, none of your attitude, and a refill on the coffee,” Nic growls, and easily dismisses me with a look of arrogance.

My lips purse as I glance his way, and the look he returns is filled with animosity, as he wrinkles his nose as if I smell like shit, and am disturbing him. Well, fucking fine then. No way I’m not hawking up spit in this fucker’s food now. I slap my hand down on the tabletop, and snatch away the menus with a spite-filled look. “Coming right up, and the attitude is on the house,” I sneer, as I walk away to place their order and avoid their table.

I’m successful for a while with ignoring them, and despite Nic’s insistent motions to refill their coffees, I just ignore them. When their food order is up, I let it sit for a bit at the pickup window in their view while I scroll my socials, and ensure they’ll eat their food cold. A text message pops up on my phone from an unknown number, and causes my eyebrows to shoot up.

You look beautiful when you’re being a brat. I’d love nothing more than to smack my hand into that fine ass of yours.

Who the fuck is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?My eyes search across everyone in the diner, and I even glance out the windows, but no one is looking at me or showing me the slightest interest. Could this be my douche ex playing games with me? I swear I’ll break his damn nose if he keeps this creepy-ass shit up. I press call on the number, ready to give him a piece of my mind,only to have the operator tell me this number cannot receive incoming calls. I promptly delete the message and slip my phone back inside my pocket, but the hair on the back of my neck is standing on end, and it feels like insects are crawling along my skin.

I grab their plates, turn my back to the tables, and spit in each of their food, right over the greasy homestyle hash browns. With a devilish grin across my face, I finally bring their food to the table and place it in front of them, walking away before they can ask me for anything. I successfully ignore them for the next hour, as they eat, chat, and go over something on Nic’s laptop. I know I’m being unprofessional and petty, and there was no real harm done with Micah’s attempt at flirting, but I can’t force myself to be nice. I deal with slimy assholes like him every single night at the strip club, and my bullshit tolerance has reached its max.

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