Page 66 of Naughty Santa Daddy

“Make it quick.”

“If you-know-who sent someone for her and failed—” he waits for me to catch on.

I do. And, again, realize how much this damn woman distracts me.

My stomach plummets with fear of what’s to come. “Another is already on the way.”

Hadley

Heart thundering for mounting reasons, I drive and drive as fast as I can without wrecking. There’s a slim chance of a speeding ticket due to this town, population ninety-four, having every deputy dealing with the man I killed.

“Oh, God help me.” My stomach threatens to purge at the memory of what I’ve done.

The distraction of having sex with Massimo only lasted so long. Now, I’m back in a reality I don’t want, including a pissed Italian who is sure to hunt me down due to a recent robbery.

Again, I reach to the passenger seat out of habit, hoping to find my purse with my belongings.

No such luck, it’s still in my car. “Where I should be!” I scream. “Not in Massimo’s—” The irony that I’m now driving the same vehicle has me grumbling, “Stupid, stupid girl.”

Thinking about how I had felt sohopefulabout my future this morning, my hands tighten even more on the black steering wheel I’m gripping for dear life. Impossibly, this day keeps getting worse, like a massive avalanche threatening to bury me.

I struggle to swallow when remembering the stranger at Clyde’s coming around the counter, his body language just like when—

“No, don’t think about him. You’ll be home soon.” I exhale a breath I don’t remember sucking as if my last. “I’m safe. I take care of me. I’m in control. I’m safe…” Normally, this montage calms me whenever that horrid memory assaults me, but after shooting someone—killing someone, it’s not working. I did exactly what I say in the montage yet now feel horrible about it. Someone is no longer walking this earth because of me,again.

I lied when Massimo asked if that was my first kill. I’ve faced evil before. Lots of it. However, one certain evil I faced forced a do-or-die situation.

I chose life.

I’m choosing it again.

Eyes flickering to the rearview mirror, dreading to see one of Massimo’s fancy cars catching up to me, I assume adrenaline has my hands shaking until I notice several specks of sleet start to hit the windshield.

“No, no, no…” I beg Mother Nature since we rarely ever have such weather, and slippery roads will only add to the sketchy night vision. “Please melt. Please melt.” The asphalt recently had sun hitting it before it set. Chances are high this freakish ice won’t stick.

I scan the steering wheel and dashboard for a windshield wiper knob, but the damn vehicle is so high-tech I feel like I’m attempting to fly a space shuttle. “Hello?” I call out, hoping a computer will answer. “Can you please turn on the windshield wipers?” I feel dumb having to resort to this, but here we are.

When nothing happens, I try, “How about some heat?”

In silence, the windshield only thickens with slushy ice, so I resort to insults. “Fine, be a bitch, then.”

Without success in feeling heat, I do eventually get the windshield wipers to do their job. Not only do they clear the glass, but the sound of theswoosh-swooshsomehow soothesme. Gives me the moments needed to gather some sanity. And questions that need answers.

Who was the man who came after me? How does Massimo know him? And why didn’t he stop the stranger from trying to hurt me? Why did he only come in after I shot off a gun?

Massimo claims the man was sent to kidnap me. But why? By whom?

I think about Massimo handing me a knife after I shot the stranger.Why would he do that?I had thought it was to protect me from getting arrested, but now I can’t help but wonder if he was actually…protecting himself.

My foot slips off the gas pedal.

My blood runs as cold as the ice dropping from the sky.

What ifMassimosent the man to kidnap me, not expecting me to fight back? He appeared to have left Clyde’s yet never did. It’s as if he had been waiting for me to be brought outside once the dining room had emptied.

The knife was to coverhistracks.

On its own accord, I feel my left hand reach up to cover my gaping mouth.He didn’t take me home.I was to be ‘safe’ at his place.

---