Page 87 of Subbing For Santa

“Then that’s where I will be, too. Because I’m telling you right now, Griffin Marx, nothing, not even death or the devil himself, will keep us apart.”

Fuck. If I’d been unsure of her feelings towards me, I’m not anymore. They are as real as mine are for her.

Cupping her face between my hands, I claim her lips. Her tears still fall, but she winds her arms around me so tightly, and I know she wants to climb under my skin, just as I want to do to her.

We kiss desperately for a long time, and I feel like I’m back in high school when a kiss was everything. It is now too. Aggie’s lips, her tongue. The way they connect with mine is fucking everything.

Eventually, we come up for air. We remain kneeling on the hard timber floor, ignoring the discomfort to our knees, as we press our foreheads together, looking into each other’s eyes.

This woman has claimed my very soul.

After we drag ourselves up and pull our emotions together, I suggest going to my house to spend the night as the security is better there. Aggie happily agrees, and my team and Devon flank us as we cross from her house to mine in the dark, their guns at the ready, prepared for the first hint of danger.

Once we locked ourselves in, I introduced Aggie to my bed, where we explored each other some more before passing out in each other’s arms.

Agatha

Justbeforedawn,aloud crack in the air sends both of us bolting upright as commotion comes from outside. Then another loud crack makes me stiffen as I realise what the noise is.

It’s gunfire.

“Stay here!” Griffin hisses, leaping from the bed. “Do not leave this house.”

“What? Where are you going?” I leap up too, scrambling to find some clothes to slip on.

“Stay the fuck here, Aggie. You hear me?” Griffin hisses again, and my eyes find his across the bed.

His brown pools are wild with panic, but then again, so are mine.

“You stay here, too!” I hiss back and his brows hitch.

“I can’t, little elf. This is what I do. Stay here. I’ll be back soon. Stay in this room and do not leave this house.”

Griffin tugs up his jeans and moves to a wall panel that opens somehow, to reveal a safe. After keying in a code, it clicks open, and he pulls out a gun, checking it’s loaded before glancing back at me.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Then he darts out of the bedroom.

My heart just about leaps out of my throat when I hear yelling and more gunfire. With worry for Griffin’s safety, I dart out of the bedroom I was ordered to stay in, and my legs carry me fast through Griffin’s fancy house in time to see him run out the front door.

Because this house is made of a lot of glass, when I step around the corner, I can see everything that’s going on outside.

There in the courtyard is a man on his knees surrounded by the black-clad men that came to my house last night, as well as Devon. Griffin approaches them, his gun raised at the man’s head as he speaks, the expression on his face just as scary and menacing as his dad’s.

My breath hitches in my throat as I witness my Santa change into a completely different person. His face, a mask of hatred and fury.

I can hear Griffin’s snarling voice, yet I can’t make out what he’s saying. The man on his knees looks up at Griff with his own snarl, and I see his lips move, saying something to Griffin.

Then Griffin pulls the trigger.

Another thunderous crack vibrates through the air, and as if I were watching in slow motion, I see blood spray from the man’s skull, showering the feet of the bystanders.

A gasp escapes me. My hands fly to my throat as a memory I’ve tried to keep buried slams into me.

I no longer see Griffin standing over the lifeless body of a man with the gun still in his hand. Instead, I seeme. I have the gun, and I’m standing over a lifeless body, although I’m a much younger version of myself.

“Aggie!” My name is called frantically, but I can’t seem to stop my memories from engulfing me as I walk backwards and run into something hard.

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