Page 50 of Puck the Holidays

I’m halfway through the living room, almost to the foyer, when Josh slams into me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist like a defensive lineman. We go down hard and I scream as pain laces through my elbow and knee when I hit the hard floor. We slide a few feet and I struggle to get him off of me, but then he yanks my head back and I feel the tip of the knife at my throat and my struggling stops. I freeze, tears sliding down my cheeks.

His breath is hot and harsh at my ear and I can tell his teeth are bared when he whispers, “That wasn’t very nice, baby. I think all this time up north has made you forget your manners. I’ll help you remember them.”

I swallow hard, feeling the edge of the knife nick my skin when my throat moves, and squeeze my eyes shut.

This is it.

This is the end.

I’m going to die.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Connor

Something is off. I don’t know what, but there’s a weird, uneasy feeling churning in my stomach. It’s been there since last night when Hattie had freaked out in the parking garage. I know that it turned out to be nothing, but…I don’t know. I’ve always been a firm believer in trusting your instincts, in our ability to innately know when something isn’t right. If Hattie had such a strong reaction in that parking garage, there was a reason for it.

Which is why I can’t wait to see her, wrap my arms around her and ease my mind. It was probably just a carhopper checking for unlocked doors, but I’ll still feel better once I’m back with her. I’m headed back from the airport now and Hattie should be done grabbing her stuff and already back by the time I get home. God, I can’t wait to see her, to kiss her, to play out in person everything we’d talked about and teased throughout the day yesterday in our texts. My lips curl upward as I imagine it, already having to shift in my seat.The mouth on that girl, I think with a grin. She’d seemed subdued after the game, but I assumed it was just from still feeling freaked out about her parking garage ordeal and being exhausted—we’ve admittedly been running each other ragged physically and staying up way too late most nights, and work has been crazy hectic for her. I decide to pamper her tonight: hot bubble bath, candles, her favorite wine, a massage—andnotthe kind with a happy ending. She deserves a night of relaxation and being treated like a queen.

My phone rings and I assume it’s Hattie, but it’s Rand’s name flashing across my screen. He’s the head of security for the Vipers and we’ve actually gotten pretty close over the years. I lost Hannah and he lost his son in a car accident within two weeks of each other, and we just kind of bonded over it and found solace in each other. It’s an understated, quiet friendship, but an important one to both of us. We’ve even gone ice fishing up at his cabin in Oregon a handful of times. Maybe that’s why he’s calling now, to plan another trip. He’s a big, burly, former special-ops guy, and was a private security guy after that for people and in places he can’t even talk about, and just the sight of him is enough to immediately calm most rowdy fans in the rare instances altercations break out during games.

“Hey, Rand,” I say cheerfully, answering with the hands free.

“Hey, Shep, how you doing?”

“I’m good, man, how about you?”

“I’m alright,” he says, his voice sounding a big strained. Could just be the time of year. The holidays are always hard when you’ve lost someone.

“You planning an Oregon trip soon?” I ask, a bit of hope in my tone. I really enjoy our trips and I’d love to bend his ear about my relationship with Hattie.

“I wish that’s why I was calling, but this is about something else, Shep.” My chest tightens, something cold settling in my bones.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my entire body tensed with alert without even really understanding why.

“It’s about Hattie, about the incident last night.” I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and my heart starts to beat faster. “I took a look at the security footage after Hattie left. Therehadbeen a man near her car before she exited the building. He didn’t try to open the car, didn’t put anything on it or under it, didn’t even peek in the windows to see what was inside. He eventually put his hand against the driver’s side door for a minute, looking…I don’t know, relieved maybe? His shoulders kind of sagged. Anyway, then he just walked off. Again, not threatening exactly, and not illegal by any means, but it still just struck me as odd.”

“I agree,” I somehow manage to get out. My throat feels thick because I know there’s more. Something that can’t equal anything good. He wouldn’t have called or sounded so serious if there wasn’t more to this story. I try to keep my speed under control, but I’m desperate to get home, to get to Hattie. “What’s going on, Rand?”

“So, I sent a still from the security footage to an old colleague of mine to see if anything popped on the guy. I just had one of those feelings.” Rand’s feelings were like clockwork and it would be a cold day in hell before I ever questioned them.

“And?” I ask in a low voice.

“There are several warrants out for him.”

“Warrants? For what?”Holy shit.

“Some pretty heavy stuff. Breaking and entering, assault…attempted murder.”

“Murder?!” I yell. “What the fuck?”

“I’ll send you the full report, but listen, I tried to get ahold of Hattie to tell her all this and see if she knows the guy or if he’s tried to contact her, but I haven’t been able to get through.” That cold feeling spreads out through my entire body. I try to tell myself that it’s fine, she’s probably not answering because she’s working out or in the shower or something equally innocuous. She’s fine. She has to be.

“Can you send me the picture of the guy? Maybe I’ve seen him hanging around at games or something.”

“Of course. Sent.”

I pull off on the shoulder and grab my phone. When I open the message, rage erupts in my chest.

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