Page 55 of Noel
Noel
I’ve spent the last few hours trying to trace this motherfucker, and to say I’m frustrated is the understatement of the goddamn year.
Holly’s phone was riddled with spyware.
Her laptop?Compromised six ways from Sunday.
I left both in the hands of our lead tech analyst, Balor Cruz—a paranoid genius with zero social skills and an obsession with encrypted forensics.
If there’s a single digital breadcrumb left behind, he’ll find it.
But while he’s working on that, I’m pacing like a caged animal.
And my chest?It fucking aches.
Not in a figurative sense.It physically hurts.Hollow and tight, like something vital’s been scooped out and all that’s left is air and static.
Because she’s in danger.
Because I let her be in danger.
And because I can’t stop thinking about the way she looked this morning curled in my sheets, skin warm, lips swollen, hair tangled, whispering I’m yours like it was the only truth that mattered.
Holly.
My Tinsel.
She’s the embodiment of everything sexy and soft and sweet I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find.
Funny.Smart.Kind.
And so fucking beautiful it’s like a weapon designed to take me out from the inside.
She deserves everything good.
Gentle mornings.Bad coffee and warm socks.Laughter.Real safety.
Not me.
Not the guy who once killed things for a living.
Not the guy who doesn’t do forever because forever is a luxury men like me don’t get.
But the thing is?
I want her.
And I’m a simple man.Always have been.
If I don’t find something I like in the first fifteen seconds, I move on.Restaurants.Cars.Gear.Women.
But I found her.
And now?Now I can’t imagine my life without her in it.
I pause just outside the office she’s using—one of the private glass-walled ones along the south hall.
Through the window, I see her.
