Page 11 of Daddy's Christmas Rescue
And for the first time in a very long time, I believed him.
Chapter five
Blake
I wasn’t used to having someone else in my house. Even with Biscuit, the place was always quiet. Predictable. I liked it that way—wake up, work, eat, sleep, repeat. No surprises.
Then came Holly.
Now there were crumbs on the counter, flour on the stove, and the smell of something warm and sweet that didn’t belong to me. There were two mugs in the sink instead of one. I told myself it didn’t matter. She was just passing through. But the part of me that liked order was twitching anyway. I needed to know what I was dealing with. Who I was dealing with.
Standing by the window, watching fat flakes of snow drift past the glass, I repeated the lie I’d been telling myself since she’d arrived: she couldn’t stay.
Then I turned and saw her sitting at the kitchen table, still wearing one of my old shirts, sleeves hanging past her hands, feeding Biscuit crumbs like it was a full-time job.
She smiled at him—a tiny, unguarded thing—and I stopped believing my own lie all over again. I cleared my throat. “We need to talk, Holly.”
Her smile vanished. She straightened fast, like a soldier at attention. “I—I’m sorry if I made a mess—”
“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I just need to know what’s going on. You were hiding in a condemned building. That doesn’t just happen for no reason.”
She went still.
I sat down across from her, careful to keep my voice low. “You said you were locked in the dark, but then you said you didn’t have anyone. I need to understand what that means.” Because it sounded like trafficking.
Her fingers tightened around the mug she was holding. “I just had a bad dream,” she whispered.
“You don’t have family missing you? Friends?”
She shook her head. “No.” But she wouldn’t look me in the eye. Amanda had lied. Lied to me for four years, until I’d caught her promising her boyfriend that once she had a ring on her finger she’d start sending money to him.
“Someone must be looking for you.”
“No one,” she said again. "I don't have anyone." Too quick. Too firm. Another lie.
I leaned back in my chair, watching her. “Look,” I said quietly. “I’m not trying to trap you. But if you’re in trouble, I can’t help unless I know what kind of trouble it is. You can tell me.”
Her knuckles went white around the mug. “I’m not in trouble.”
I exhaled slowly. “You’re a shitty liar, baby. But you have to understand something—I can’t protect you from shadows. If someone’s looking for you—”
“They’re not,” she interrupted.
I frowned. “You sure about that?”
Her head dropped. “Please,” she said softly. “Don’t ask me that. I just… I just want to stay here for a little while. I’ll find somewhere else after.”
“Why here?”
She blinked, startled. “What?”
“Why me?” I asked. “I could have taken you anywhere. Called someone. Taken you into a shelter. Why stay with a man you don’t know?”
Her mouth opened, then closed again. For a moment, I thought she’d answer. But she just shook her head, eyes wide, voice small. “Because you didn’t ask me to leave.”
I didn’t know whether to be angry or sorry. Maybe both. “Okay,” I said after a moment. “You can stay a little while. But you need to understand — if someone comes looking, I have to know what I’m up against.”
She nodded too fast, relief and fear tangled together. “No one’s coming,” she whispered.
