by Chelle Bliss
None of that matters anymore.
Today, I’m having Nick’s and my very first Christmas.
20
Nick
“Where are you two going?” Gigi asks, walking into the diner as we are about to walk out.
“Christmas shopping,” Jo answers without a second thought, and I instantly close my eyes.
Telling Gigi you’re going shopping is an open invitation because, just like every other woman in my family, she can spend cash without even blinking.
“Christmas?” Gigi’s eyes move left and then right, like we’re the most insane people she’s ever been around.
“Yeah,” I tell her, taking a deep breath and then sighing. “Jo has never celebrated Christmas.”
“Fuck, seriously?” she asks, her mouth hanging open. “Never?”
Jo shakes her head. “Never, but Nicky’s going to change that,” she says, smiling at me.
“Well, a girl can’t Christmas shop alone or with the person she’s buying gifts for. I’m off today.” Gigi smiles, waggling her sculpted brown eyebrows. “You know, if you want to have a girls’ day and get away from him,” she offers, glancing at me, “for a little while.”
“Well,” Jo says, turning her face toward me, and I shrug, because I’m not the boss of her, and she can do whatever she wants. “I think…”
“Babe,” I interrupt, squeezing her waist. “You do whatever you want. You want a girls’ day filled with whatever a girls’ day is filled with, you have a girls’ day. I ain’t gonna lie, shopping isn’t my favorite, but I was doing it for you.”
Jo’s lips turn down along with her eyebrows. “I thought we were both buying things at the mall… No?”
I smirk. “I know where to go and what I’m getting you, and I can’t get it at some luxury store that sells thousand-dollar shoes.”
“Are you going to that King store?” she asks me.
Gigi’s eyes widen. “Oh. My. God. You are not shopping for this girl at the Rural King.”
I shake my head and lie my ass off. “Of course not. What kind of guy do you think I am?” I ask, placing my hand on my chest.
Gigi crosses her arms, cocking her head. “A dumb-ass one.”
Pike grins, swinging his arm around Gigi’s shoulders. “They have some solid shit there, though, darlin’.”
Gigi twists her head so slowly it’s like something straight out of a movie. There’s no smile on her face or humor in her eyes. “You’re shitting me, right?”
Pike shrugs, brushing his thumb against her bare shoulder. “I’ve bought you some gifts there.”
“My boots for mudding and a rifle don’t seem like things Jo would be super excited to receive as part of her first Christmas—or as a present, ever.”
“But you loved your boots.” Pike nuzzles her neck with his face.
She laughs, hunching her shoulders and squirming away from his lips. “I did, but I’m not Hollywood. I’m Floridian through and through, but I don’t think Jo’s ever been mudding a day in her life.”
“Mudding?” Jo asks softly.
Gigi extends her hand toward Jo. “See? Not. A. Clue.”
“Is it something I’d like?” Jo looks from Gigi to me.
“Babe.” I laugh, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. “A mudder, you are not.”
“Bullshit,” Gigi coughs. “We’re so mudding. If your ass goes to Rural King, you get her boots and gear, but those can’t be her only presents or I’m going to make you pay, Nicky.”
“Fine. Fine,” I grumble, even though I wasn’t going to shop for her gift at Rural King anyway. But it was funny to see Gigi lose her shit over it.
“Good. We on, then?” Gigi asks Jo.
“If it’s okay with Nick.”
“Again, babe. You don’t need my permission. Go, shop, and have fun. Pike and I will do our thing and meet back at the house later. Sound good?”
Jo curls into my side, wrapping both arms around my middle and planting a giant kiss on my neck. “This is going to be so much fun. Thank you.”
“For what?” I grunt, staring down into her deep blue eyes.
“For all of this. The shopping. The friends. Christmas. Everything, Nick. Just everything.”
“You haven’t experienced a real Christmas unless you do one with the entire family. It’s completely insane. Maybe you’ll be around then, or if you’re in LA, you can come back to celebrate with us,” Gigi says.
The smile on Jo’s face fades. “I’d like that,” she replies softly, still clinging to me but talking to Gigi.
My chest aches, a totally unfamiliar feeling before Jo walked into my life but one that has now become commonplace. Every time the very words about her leaving pass through my mind, my body reacts and not in the good way.
“You ready?” Gigi asks.
I hold Jo a little tighter and press a hard kiss to her lips. “You have fun, babe.”
“Are you going to miss me?” she asks out of nowhere like she’s reading my mind.
“A little.” I wink.
She smiles. “I’ll miss you too.”
“Oh boy,” Pike mutters. “He’s lost.”
I glare in his direction, releasing Jo. “Don’t go too far.”
“Okay, Dad,” Gigi says, pushing Jo toward the door with one hand and holding up her middle finger with the other. “We’ll be home by curfew, too.”
“She’s a pain in the ass,” I tell Pike, shaking my head.
“She’s my favorite pain in the ass.”
“I hear ya and completely understand.”
Pike tucks his hands in his pockets, glancing toward the floor for a second before bringing his green eyes back to me. “So, Jo…”
I hold up my hands, watching the women walk away through the glass of the diner door. “Don’t say it, man. I know. I know. I’m so fucked,” I whisper.
“Beyond fucked.” He laughs. “Been there. Done that. Never the same.”
“When did you know Gigi was the one?” I ask him, standing around talking about feelings like two chicks. But he is easier to talk to than Mammoth, who spends more time busting my balls than giving me actual advice.
“Spent a little less than a week with her, and I knew then I wanted more. But your cousin, in true Gigi fashion, took off, and I didn’t see her for months.” He shrugs. “She was almost out of my system when she walked back into my life, filled with attitude and venom. Knew right then I wasn’t letting her get away again.”
“So, like a week and you were a goner?”
“The heart’s a funny thing. You know when the person isn’t right, but when someone walks in and is supposed to be there, there’s no denying the feelings, no matter how far or deep you push them down.”
“Fuck,” I hiss. “No one’s gotten under my skin like her.”
“Is it her or her celebrity?”
“It’s her, Pike. It’s her beautiful brokenness. She has this perfect façade, but underneath, she’s missing so much. And I want to do nothing more than give her everything she’s never had.”
“Yep. You’re fucked.”
I shake my head with a wry smile. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Well…” He takes a hand from his pocket, placing it on my shoulder as the women climb into Gigi’s old Jeep. “The real question is, does she feel the same?”
“I need to get out of here,” I tell him, getting too much in my feelings, something I’ve never done over anyone except my family.
I’ve spent my entire life shying away from relationships, doing everything possible to stop myself from falling in love. The one time I let my guard down and—bam!
I push past Pike and head outside, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes.
Shit.
What if she doesn’t feel the same?
What if this is all a good time, and she is just living life on the other side of the tracks for a little while?
I’m sure I could and would get over her, but fuck, it would take for-fu
cking-ever, and I’d be a miserable asshole the entire time.
Three hours later, I am back at my place, surrounded by a pile of gifts for a girl I barely know but feel the need to show all the things she’s been missing.
I haven’t heard from Gigi or Jo in an hour, figuring they are knee-deep in girl shit or trying on so many shoes, Pike would have to build Gigi a new closet.
Me: Gigi, you guys almost done? Jo’s gone MIA.
Three dots sit on my screen for longer than I expect and then stop.
Me: Hello…
Three dots pop up again, and I stare at my phone, waiting for an answer.
Gigi: I don’t know where Jo is. I lost her somewhere.
My heart immediately starts to race, and my palms sweat.
Me: What do you mean, you lost her?
I pace the floor, back and forth in front of the Christmas tree we decorated last night, and dial Gigi.
“I don’t know,” she answers and before I have a chance to say anything. She’s speaking so fast, she doesn’t take a breath as she continues, “One minute she was there, and then she wasn’t. I thought she wandered into a different part of the store, but I’ve looked everywhere, and she’s gone. Poof.”
The knot that has already settled in my stomach tightens. “Go to security, have them pull up the footage, and find her. I’m on my way.”
“I’ll have them look, but I’m sure she’s here somewhere. Don’t come. It’s too far. There’s no need to panic. I mean, I’ve lost Tamara a time or two here in the past.”
“I said go to security, and I’m on my way,” I tell her, my voice low as I say the words extra slowly. “Call me after they review the video footage.”
“Okay,” Gigi promises, not arguing with me anymore. “I’ll do it.”
I end the call and immediately dial my father. “Dad.”
“Hey, kid. What’s up? You doing good?” he asks, his voice filled with happiness which I’m about to crush.
“Jo’s missing, Dad. She and Gigi went to the mall and—”
“I’m on it,” he rumbles without even hesitating. “You headed there?”
“Yep.” I stalk toward the door, only stopping to pull on my boots before heading toward my truck. “I have Gigi talking to security now.”
“I’ll do what I can on my end, but let me know as soon as you hear anything. Don’t panic, Nick,” he tells me in a calm and even tone. “I’m sure she’s fine. You know how women are.”
I skate right by that comment because if my mother heard him say that, I’m pretty damn sure he’d have a welt somewhere on his body. “Her mom was here last night.”
“No shit. Why?”
“She showed up and told Jo she had to come home. It wasn’t a request, but I escorted her out and let her know she wasn’t welcome on my property.”
“I’m sure it’s a coincidence.”
“Maybe,” I begin, sliding into the seat before turning the key in the ignition. “Either way, I’m heading down there.”
“I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll call when I have news, and call me when you know what the security footage shows.”
“Will do,” I promise, but he’s gone before the last word is out of my mouth.
I peel out of the driveway, the trees and pavement passing in a blur as I head toward the highway and the mall in Tampa. I knew I should’ve gone with them, not leaving Jo and Gigi alone, especially with her celebrity status and the paparazzi searching for her.
“Fuck,” I growl, slamming my palm against the steering wheel as I wait at a red light with the highway within sight.
The phone vibrates on the seat next to me.
Gigi: Here’s a still shot from the video footage. She left with someone, but I don’t know who he is. Photo coming.
I open the message, waiting, my eyes moving from the red light to the screen. A few seconds later, there’s a shot of Jo with a tall, thin man holding her by the arm, moving her toward the door. The photo’s grainy, but when I enlarge it…the man is unmistakable.
Jamison.
21
Jo
“Let me go,” I beg Jamison as he grips me by the arm, a gun in my back, pushing me toward the car. “Please. Don’t do this.”
He tightens his grip, digging the gun deeper into the ribs in my back. “Shut the fuck up. You brought this on yourself.”
I walk faster, trying to move myself away from the gun, but it’s pressed so hard against my back, it’s useless. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” he asks, his voice filled with venom. “Why do you think?”
I’m careful to keep my head straight, but my eyes roam around the parking garage, looking for help. There’s no one. The place is empty except for the luxury cars lining the rows. “I don’t know, Jamison. I never did anything to you.”
Can I talk my way out of this? He’s never seemed overly irrational, although he has a cruel streak when he’s angry. Never in a million years would I ever think he’d be the type to wield a gun, especially at someone for any reason other than self-defense.
“You’re a spoiled cunt,” he spits, his fingers squeezing my upper arm so tight, he’s cutting off the circulation. “And then you ran off with some common country gutter rat, leaving me as if I meant nothing to you and throwing away your life, our life, for some no-name man.”
“I didn’t leave you for him,” I try to explain as I slow my steps, hoping to buy myself some time until someone is nearby and I can maybe get away.
“I wanted you back. I begged you to come back to me.”
If there weren’t a gun pointed at me, I’d laugh. He didn’t beg me to come back. He demanded it and not by sweet-talking me either. Jamison Ryan never begs anyone for anything, especially women, and that includes me. “I’ll come back. I wanted to come back,” I lie.
“You did?” he asks, his voice quieter and softer for a moment.
“Yes.” I curl my fingers into my palm, trying to hold myself together.
“Add lying bitch to the list of reasons why I’m here,” he rages as soon as the words are out of my mouth.
My body jerks to a stop next to a blacked-out sedan. He keeps the gun pointed at my back but lets go of my arm, reaching for the handle.
I start to move and make it two steps, feeling freedom is possibly in sight, when I’m hauled backward by my hair. “I should shoot you now and be done with you.”
My neck cranes back, and I blink, trying to focus through the tears, and I spot the security camera above us. God, I hope someone’s watching. Maybe they’re coming, right? But they would’ve been here by now since our walk out of the store and to this point has taken more than a few minutes.
“You’re hurting me,” I wheeze, grabbing at his hands, trying to get them off me.
“You’re lucky you’re still breathing,” he tells me, moving me back toward the car using my hair as a leash. “Get the fuck in.”
I don’t have a choice as he pushes down on my head, making my body fold into the seat.
“Hold out your hands,” he commands, his dark eyes boring into me, lifeless and angry.
“I won’t run,” I lie again. “I promise.”
“Your word means nothing to me, Josephine.” He waves the gun in front of my face, making sure I remember who holds the power. “Hands.”
Every minute I can stay alive is another minute Nick can find me. He’ll find me, right? God, I hope Gigi noticed I disappeared and thought it odd, alerting Nick immediately.
I hold out my hands, letting the tears fall down my cheeks, giving in to the situation. I’m not giving up hope, but I have to play along long enough to be found.
Using only one hand, Jamison secures a pair of handcuffs around one wrist and the other to the door, making it impossible for me to run.
“I still don’t understand why,” I whisper to myself.
“Every brat needs a lesson,” he tells me before slamming the door in my face and giving me a moment alone.
I keep m
y eyes trained on him, watching him round the front of the car as he takes in our surroundings. There’s still no one around for it being the middle of the afternoon, and the parking garage is more than half full.
I yank at the handcuffs, wiggling my fingers around, trying to make my hand small enough to fit through the metal hole. My damn thumb is in the way, making it impossible for any crazy escape as he climbs in next to me, slamming his door louder than he did mine.
“There’s nowhere to go, baby,” he says in a salty-sweet tone. “You need an attitude adjustment, Josephine. Stop struggling, and this will all be over before you know it.”
“Attitude adjustment?” I laugh bitterly. “That’s priceless coming from you. You’ve always been a prick, Jamison. If one of us needs a new attitude, it’s you.”
But the last part of his sentence finally sinks is. This will all be over before you know it. Over? As in Jamison’s going to kill me? Bile rises in my throat, and my body starts to shake enough for me to feel it but not enough for him to see.
I knew the possibility was there because he has a gun, but never did I think he’d actually kill me. I, in my dumb-ass reasoning, figured he was using it to control me, but that isn’t his endgame at all.
Jamison is out for blood…my blood.
He stows the gun between his legs and lifts his hand to caress my cheek. “Always such a sharp tongue,” he says, brushing his thumb against my lip, forcing my mouth open. “So soft and yet so sharp.”
I want to gag at the way he stares at my mouth and the taste of his skin on my tongue. When he pushes the pad of his thumb a little deeper, I bite down. He lurches back, but his hand doesn’t move. His thumb is pinned between my teeth as he howls.
But I didn’t think this through, something I’ve been guilty of before, but never when my life was on the line. I only have one free hand, and the other is cuffed to the door with no way to run.
He reaches between his legs, fumbling for a minute, before lifting the gun toward my head. I smack it away, trying my best to keep ahold of his thumb and prevent him from pointing the gun anywhere else except my head.
