by Jax Hart
My cell pings, ripping me away from forbidden thoughts. It’s K, practically demanding we go out tonight.
Sighing, I text her back.
Me: Fine. But no hooking up with losers.
K is smart as heck, but I’ve noticed her bad penchant for going after athletes who only want to score in the middle of the night. A bad fate I’ve had to save her from more than a few times. Shaking my head, I put my phone down after adding to our text chain that I’d pick her up in a few hours. I lose myself studying until the timer of my phone goes off and I have no choice but to schelp into some jeans and a sturdy pair of faux Uggs. I hate being trendy but if I look like every other girl, I’ll fit in. My hair is the only thing that catches attention and in winter, I can usually hide it in a bun stuffed under a ski cap. I quickly put my locks into a Dutch braid, put on clear Chapstick and get into my black puffer coat.
It snowed earlier and the drive to campus is full of twinkle lights and garland. The thought of being alone for the holidays is more than I can bear so I booked a trip to Spain with some money Zio left me when he died. It’ll be warmth and sunshine for me not ice and snow. I found a decent apartment on Airbnb close to shops and restaurants and I’m actually excited to go. K is jealous as heck and so I invited her, but she said she can’t run out on family during the holidays. I get that. I’d never run out on mine if I had one either.
K is waiting by the curb and she climbs in as I roll to a stop. “Eager?”
“I just finished my paper and turned it in. So, fuck, yeah I’m ready.”
I roll my eyes as I pull away from the curb. “Ready for another lame-ass party…”
“You need to chill, girl. That stick is so far up your ass even a doctor can’t find it.”
I laugh, “Noted. But someone needs to get us home.”
“Uber, baby.”
I shake my head. “Never. I don’t trust strangers.”
“I trusted you.”
“Touché.”
I huddle deeper into my coat as we exit the car and navigate the slippery sidewalks to the house all lit up. “Ugh, do you think they have enough holiday lights?”
But my question is lost as the door opens, blasting Christmas rap tunes at us.
K pops off two fresh beers and I drink mine slowly. I slip my coat off as I start to sweat and despite my bad attitude, I manage to nod my head to a few beats.
“Dance!” My hand is dragged over to the living room where furniture was pushed against walls. K presses another beer in my hand and I take it feeling flushed. We dance and dance and soon I feel a hot body invading my personal space behind me. I spin with a nasty remark ready on my lips but freeze in surprise at the handsome guy peering down at me with shy eyes.
“Hey, sorry. I was just moving through.”
I raise a brow not believing his bullshit for a second.
He grins back.
He moves to step around me. I block his path.
“So, it’s gonna be like that?”
“Yep,” I grin taking a swig. I haven’t been attracted to anyone since… well him. It’s the holidays and flirting could be fun.
He gently places a hand around my waist as a slower song drifts on. I wrap my arms around his neck and sway. Outside snow starts to fall. We don’t speak. We just dance. And when his lips find my ear, I sigh, moving my body deeper against him. I shut my eyes and pretend. Pretend I’ve slipped into a parallel world where the man holding me is someone else, but yet not the man whose done so many things to hurt me. In my pretend place he is mine and I’m his with no ugliness ever coming between us.
He cups my face, moving back and lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss is gentle and slow and breaks me because it’s a truth slapping me in the face. Roque’s touch is still left on me and even a new one can’t take it away. A tear slips down my cheek. He pulls back.
“It’s that bad?” He fakes an arrow to the heart.
I smile weakly, knowing if Roque hadn’t stolen my heart this guy might have a chance. He takes my hand leading me into the kitchen, grabbing me a cold water and tosses my beer into the trash.
“Smile!” Before I know what’s happening some drunk chick stands in front of us and snaps a selfie.
“What?” I blink my eyes confused.
My shy guy, shrugs, apologizing and whisks me away. “Sorry. That was my fault. I’m kind of a big deal around here.”
“And why is that?”
“You don’t know who I am?”
I shake my head.
“Chris Tanner, star pitcher for State…”
“Ah. Somehow, I knew this would be a jock party,” I grimace, knowing K is probably getting her stocking’s worth from somebody.
“Athletes aren’t your thing?”
I shake my head. “I’m kind of a loner. I’m just here for the academics nothing else.”
“Noted. Wanna play cups?”
“Seriously?”
“I’m not looking for anything but a cool girl to chill with since I live here and can’t sleep until everyone is out. Trust me. I have triple locks on my door. I’m just here to get drafted and go pro. Nothing else.”
“Fine. I can’t find my friend anyway.”
“What’s your name, Christmas Angel?”
I roll my eyes. “If you knew me, you’d never call me an angel. It’s Jamie. Jamie Goodwin.”
He fingers a lock of my red hair. “You have a temper?”
“Sometimes.”
He grins sexily. “Feisty and cute? Why hasn’t somebody snatched you up?”
“Maybe somebody did.”
“Where is he?” He looks around.
“In the past.”
“Great. Your future is wide open then…”
We play for an hour. Chris has me smiling so much my cheeks actually hurt. I had forgotten what it felt like to live in the moment, actually being happy. We exchange numbers and I promise to text him from Spain. I might not be ready for anything but a friend, but he seems cool and I’ll definitely hang with him again.
I find K under the mistletoe in a heavy kiss with a guy that’s built. I mean built. Must be a defensive lineman for State.
I tap her on the shoulder, loudly clearing my throat. “Time to go.”
He groans, releasing her pouting lips. “Grinch.”
“Yep, that’s me. The sex grinch. Stealing all your—joy.”
“Bye Sherman. I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t go, babe.”
“My flight is early. I’ll text you after break…” The man sighs but let’s her go. “Did you have fun? Your cheeks are glowing.”
I sigh as I find my coat. “Yeah, actually I did.”
“What was his name?”
“Chris. Chris Tanner.”
“No shit? Starting pitcher who’s said to get drafted to the Yankees in the first-round.”
“Huh?”
She clucks at me. Actually clucks. “Girl, after break we need to seriously have a talk. Your dry spell is over and so is mine. No more cock blocking me and I’m definitely getting you some.”
We laugh as we exit into the swirling snow. She plops on the ground making a snow angel. What the heck, I do too. Just for a moment, I’m normal. Just a normal girl having a great Friday night. And it feels fucking good.
Roque
The Past
The howling wind rattles the windows. Outside, garland from posts have come loose, flying away. I’ve always hated the holidays. And this one is no different. I’m finally free of my “wife.” But still can’t find my girl anywhere. My lips press together. Romina has a gift for slipping away. Even as a child she escaped Italy, escaped me. Today is no different she has a skill for disappearing that I’d be quite proud of if I wasn’t so hell- bent on finding her.
“It’s time to go.”
Vito strolls in a brandy in one hand, a cigar in the other.
“I don’t feel like it.”
“My mother is expecting us. Not only is it Christmas Eve
but it’s a Requiem mass.”
“My soul is lost. Already dead.”
“Then go for your father, my father, your unborn cousin… all that we’ve lost in the war to the Palermo’s.”
Vito’s dig doesn’t go unnoticed. He’s my second in command but hates Romina for what she stands for. That she still breathes while so many of ours don’t. The fact that I loved her grates on his nerves to no end.
I turn on my heel. Following him out to my private elevator and into the waiting SUV in the garage. Despite my heavily armed guards, I check my gun at the ankle and scan the area for threats. Finding everything as it shoul be, I slip into the back and Vito rounds the other side, climbing in.
It’s so cold, the snow freezes as it falls on its way to Earth, hitting the windshield in icy pellets. My aunt and my other cousins are meeting us at the church. They’ve been in Chicago since the peace in Italy was impossible after they eliminated my bitch of an ex wife’s brothers. They’re gone and can no longer hunt Romina. I had Julietta imprisoned on an island for millionaires with serious deviances. A secret enclave of money and power colliding with dark fantasies. Although, it’s hardly a punishment as she does it all willingly. It’s practically paradise for her. But I won’t keep her there forever, soon the men will get bored with the same woman and she’ll be either exported back to Italy to live out the rest of her days in her crumbling mansion with no empire. That will be her true punishment.
My diver pulls up to the front of the church. I get out feeling the sting of icy wind on my face. Hell can be cold as well as hot. My life is purgatory. I’m living stuck between worlds. Vito opens the doors to the church and warmth and light trickles out with the sound of joyous trumpets. Earth received its redemption. I wonder if I’ll ever get mine.
Walking down the side aisle, I take my place with family. Prayers are said. Songs are sung. I cross myself not knowing if it’ll work. If repenting for my sins will ever be enough especially since I know I’ll make more.
Couples kiss, as they hold fussing babies. Older couples look at each other with eyes full of shared years. I look up to the painted ceiling of angels and make a Christmas wish that someday, somehow, I’ll be back here one Christmas night maybe with a baby. Or maybe I’ll be old and gray standing next to her and sharing that knowing look.
Sighing, I stand as mass ends, moving toward the row of candles by the alter. I take out a hundred and take the lighter selecting a candle to light for Requiem. Then, I turn, following my family out. Just as I exit the church my cell vibrated from inside my long coat. Pulling in my leather gloves, I check who it is. It’s my tech guru from Germany, Erik. I debate putting his call to voicemail, but he wouldn’t call on Christmas Eve unless there’s a problem. I wave my family on, signaling I’ll take my own car to the Christmas Eve festivities at Vito’s.
“Erik?”
“Mr. Salvatore… I have a hit. The facial recognition software found a match on Instagram. It’s a 99 percent match.”
My heart pounds. Is this it? Have my prayers been answered?
“Where is she?”
“Pennsylvania. I’m sending a screenshot of the image to your phone. If it’s her, I’ll do more tracing.”
“I’ll stay on the line.” I pull the phone away and check my texts. My hand only shakes because it’s ten degrees out. It can’t possibly be nerves… my finger swipes the text. Hot damn. It’s her. My Little Red. My blood boils at the college guy smiling like an ass with his arm thrown around her. But it’s not his or Red’s Instagram account. It’s somebody named Heather Bentware’s. Lucky for me she hash-tagged the shit out of her selfie. #ChrisTanner #Christmaswishlist #Stateforlife #jocksforChristmas
“It’s her. I want everything. Her location, her last credit card purchase, her new identity…”
“Done.”
“Now. I won’t wait until morning.”
“Merry Christmas, boss.”
I grin like a mother fucker as I end the call. She’s been careful staying off social media. But she let her guard down, was caught in someone else’s need for self-validation and now I’m hot on her trail.
I look back to the church, saying the first real prayer. “Thank you. Maybe I don’t deserve your mercy, but I’ll make this life good for her. I swear it.”
I text Vito that I’m not making Christmas Eve dinner. I dial my pilot.
“Mr. Salvatore?”
“Get the plane ready. We’re going to Pennsylvania.”
“But it’s Christmas.”
“Ho Ho Ho. I pay you to fly me wherever the fuck I want. When I want. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Mr. Salvatore. Where in Pennsylvania. I’ll need to register a flight plan.”
“The closest airport to Altoona.”
“Yes, sir. The jet will be fueled and ready to go by midnight.”
“It better be,” I bark.
I rap my fist on my driver’s window, ordering him to take me back home. I have a plane to be on and a woman to surprise on Christmas morning…
If cockiness was a cologne, I’d be doused in it. My rented SUV rolls over the snow. In my bag is rope, a gag, and a spreader bar. I can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas then punishing my girl for deceiving me then leaving. In my trouser pocket is a black velvet box with a solitaire ruby ring. She’s fire. My fire and I’ll make her ass red before I’m done but she’ll know why, and I’ll soothe the burn the way I know how while giving her my forever in return for her pain.
Her cabin is nestled at the edge of the woods. Large pine trees caked in snow give it a festive backdrop. The lights are out. No smoke curls from her chimney. Maybe she’s out with Chris Tanner. That fuck. I know where he lives too. I pull the car forward blocking the exit to the detached garage just in case she is here.
I don’t bother hiding. I proudly strut through the snow to her front door.
“Knock, knock, knock, Little Red. The big bad wolf has come to collect what’s his. YOU.” My closed fist beats against the door.
Silence.
I peer through the window. She’s not here. I take my coat off using the bulky fabric as a buffer for my fist. I punch straight through the glass and turn the deadbolts from the inside.
The air smells of her. Her things are here. Like a crazed stalker, the pads of my fingers brush her things. I enter the hall leading to the bedrooms. There’s no laptop. Everything is neat, the bed made. No dishes in the sink. I know she enrolled in the local college using an alias. One of many I’m sure she has. I enter her bathroom. Her toothbrush is gone.
My fists clench. If I find her in bed with that frat boy fucker, I’m going to lose my shit.
I do a quick check of her trash. Nothing. I scan her room than curl my lip. Striding over to her bed, I check the notebook left on a shelf under her nightstand.
Leafing through the pages, her loopy script is an arrow to my heart. I’ve missed everything about the girl. Even her cursive.
She penned a to-do list. Pack, check passport… water plants…. get laid on vacation.
My jaw clenches shut. Get laid? I dial my IT guy and conference in my PI. “She’s gone. Somewhere on vacation overseas. She used a passport. Check her alias. I want to know her location immediately.”
“Get laid? The fuck?” I shout at her empty walls. I haven’t even glanced at another woman. I’ve been celibate since the last time I was with her. If Romina wants to get laid on vacation, I have no problem fulfilling that wish. She won’t be able to walk straight by the time I’m done.
I pocket a few of her hair ties, as I walk out. I text my fixer to watch her house and get the glass window I busted repaired.
By the time I’m back at the airport pulling onto the tarmac where the private planes wait, I have her location: Majorca. It’ll be a bit chilly but nothing like the snow and ice on the Eastern Coast of the US.
I text my pilot who was waiting in the lounge and tell him to fuel the fuck up. If we fly all night, I’ll be there late Christmas morning.
>
Romina
The Past
The rich, merlot practically melts like smooth butter on my tongue. Spain is known for its reds. The air is warm but at night I still need to wear jeans and a light sweater. The local men stare a little long at my pale skin and red hair. But so far, none of them do it for me.
I swirl my wine before taking another long pull. The tapas in front of me are still warm and the sun is setting. All in all, it’s been a better Christmas than I could’ve hoped for.
“Ms. Jamie?”
My head turns at the neighbor who lives next to the villa I rented on Airbnb. “Your family come, surprise you for the holidays, yes?”
My brow wrinkles. In my gut, I know something is terribly wrong, but I don’t give it away. The old woman waits by my table. I nod, putting a fake smile on. “My brothers. They told me they couldn’t make it. I must go!” I slap enough Euro’s down to cover my tab and stroll away, quickly sprinting when I’m out of sight. Its’ either Roque or the mob from Italy. Either way I need to find a place to hide. Fast. But I need to know exactly who has found me. I stop by a shop that’s still open and purchase a hat I don’t need as well as oversized black-tinted sunglasses. Using a map app on my phone, I take a different route back to the villa stopping a few blocks short of my destination. The black SUV’s with tinted windows parked along the street is a sure giveaway.
I creep closer.
My breath stops as he comes out and crosses the street. His shoulders are just as broad, his swagger just as cocky. In his hands… fuck no he didn’t! I put a fist to my mouth, biting out a scream. In his hands are my journals. All my secrets spilled across endless pages. He’s going to know my weakness is him. He’s going to know every hidden corner in my soul. It’s all there, bared on white-lined paper. I shrink back against a wall before he spots me.
