A Little Bit Of Christmas
A Crystal Lake Novella
Juliana Stone
Juliana Stone Publishing
Copyright © 2019 by Juliana Stone
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover designed by Sara Eirew
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Afterword
Also by Juliana Stone
About the Author
Chapter One
Chess Somers didn’t think her life could get any worse. She assumed that once you hit rock bottom, the only direction left was up. And over the last few months, it was the one thought that kept her sane. The one thought that gave her hope. Because she could handle this life to some degree. If going through the motions and not living was handling things.
It turned out she was wrong, because things could be a hell of a lot worse.
It had nothing to do with the fact she’d been kicked out of a car about a mile from Crystal Lake in the middle of a snow squall, in heels no less, and everything to do with the rip down the front of her dress, the bruises on her swollen cheek and arms, not to mention the split lip and fifty-dollar bill clutched in her frozen fingers.
She stared down at the bill and felt hot tears prick the corners of her eyes. Don’t cry, she thought. Don’t be that pathetic woman.
But she was pathetic. Who the hell was she kidding? And if she didn’t move her butt, she’d freeze to death out here, and no one would find her until the spring thaw. Teeth clattering like ice pellets against glass, she pulled her wool jacket tighter and began to walk. Head down, she decided not to think about the biting cold or the fact that she’d been out in the elements for less than five minutes and couldn’t feel her toes. One foot in front of the other. Keep it simple and focus. That’s all she needed to do for now.
And that’s what she did until she saw the lights of the motel slicing through the snow and darkness. She hit a patch of ice and went down on one knee, swearing and crying as she struggled to right herself.
By the time she reached the motel, her cheeks were streaked with tears and blood, some of it frozen tight against her skin, and her knee throbbed something fierce. She limped forward, past the vehicles in the parking lot and the office where Jerry, the overly large, overly friendly, overly creepy desk clerk was on duty.
One step in front of the other. Keep going. You’ll make it. The thoughts were like a mantra.
Somewhere, she heard music, the melody familiar, though the song was just out of reach. She made her way across the parking lot to the other side and found herself humming the tune, smiling sadly when she realized what it was—“Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” When she reached the door to room number twenty-nine, it was still on her lips.
Chess shivered so violently, she had a hard time grasping the door handle, but when she finally managed to hold on and turn it, the damn thing wouldn’t open. She yanked on it and swore, rattling it hard as a fresh batch of tears rolled down the already frozen river on her face.
Light fell from the window, and she tried to peer inside, but the curtains were drawn nearly shut, allowing only a small sliver for the light to pass. Her mother was either passed out, which meant she wouldn’t wake up until she was good and ready, or she’d gone somewhere to drink, which meant Chess might not see her for days. Weeks even.
Shit.
She’d left her clutch in the back seat of the car, along with a tube of lip gloss and her cell phone and the key to her room. Chess rested her forehead against the door and tried to think. Just think. She needed to get inside, and there had to be another way in. Then it hit her: Jerry! He’d have another key.
She turned quickly, wincing at the fire that shot up from her toes, and kept her head down against the whistling wind as she headed for the office. The neon sign that flashed VACANCIES cast a dim shadow, and Chess pushed her way inside, grateful for the warmth that hit her. Tinsel was strung here and there with no rhyme or reason, while the saddest Christmas tree ever leaned to the left beside the window. Presents sat underneath it, the dust on them so thick, you could write your name on the faded paper.
“Looks like the beauty queen had quite the night.”
Chess jerked up her head and spied Jerry sitting behind the desk, a half-eaten burger and fries on the counter. Grease dripped from the corner of his mouth, leaving splotches on his considerable chest, and the smell was so strong, it turned her stomach.
“I…” She had to take a moment and get her chaotic thoughts in order. It was hard, though—she was so cold and in pain and confused and… Think.
She tugged the edges of her coat together, aware that Jerry’s eyes were on her nearly exposed breasts.
“I lost my key,” she managed to say coherently, a miracle considering the violent shivers that racked her body.
“Did you now.” Jerry stood and peered over his desk, a slow, malicious smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
Chess could only nod. The air changed, thick with something dark, as if all the light had left. Her body told her to flee, some primal instinct that shrieked inside like a banshee, but her feet felt like they were stuck in cement. She had nothing left and whimpered like a hunted animal.
“Can I please have the spare?” She attempted a smile, but her face felt like it was about to shatter into a million pieces.
“Your mother asked for it last week.” His smile was bigger. Darker. Meaner.
“Oh.” Confused, she could only look up at him. “Please, if you don’t have another spare, you must have a master key to let me in.”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” His voice was flat as he leaned his palms on the counter, his expression ugly. “We went to high school together.”
She could only shake her head and mouth no, unsure if he heard.
“You were such a bitch. Wouldn’t give me the time of day. I was just the fat guy with bad skin.” He leaned closer. “Now I got you begging for a damn key to the motel room you call home.” He snorted. “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t she?”
“I guess,” she replied, her voice small and barely audible.
“You guess?” He laughed and then stopped abruptly. His expression changed. It was subtle, but that damn internal instinct inside her exploded. She was in danger. Again.
“Tell you what,” he said, moving so he could step around the counter until he was a few feet from her. “You do something for me, and I’ll see if I can find another spare key.” His hands slowly went for the zipper on his jeans, and his dark smile made Chess nauseous. She took a step back.
“It’s cold out there.” His grin was nearly her undoing. “And you look like you’ve already been worked over real good.”
“Please,” she said again, desperate.
Jerry nodded toward the space behind the counter. “Guess you’ve got a choice to make.”
Chess blinked rapidly, trying like hell to banish the tears from her eyes, but it was no use. They fell unchecked, their sting hot on her face. She had no idea what she was going to do, but stayin
g here, doing what he wanted her to do, wasn’t an option. She whirled around and pushed at the door, nearly falling on her butt because of the ice, but a strong arm grabbed at her and helped her up.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Leather jacket.
“You okay, lady?”
His voice startled her. It was deep and warm. Slowly, Chess looked up into eyes so dark, they appeared black. Eyes that slowly lowered and took in every inch of her. Ashamed and with fingers that shook, she grabbed for the edge of her coat and ran past him, not stopping until she reached her door yet again. This time, she slammed her fist against it. Over and over, yelling at the top of her lungs for her mother to open up.
But there was no answer, and when she finally stopped, her fist was bloody, her voice long gone, and she wanted nothing more than to find a dark place, curl up, and fall asleep. Chess rested her forehead against the door. The wind howled in her ears, the snow and ice slammed into her body, but she didn’t seem to feel it anymore. Somewhere, she heard another Christmas song, one she knew, but the words were at the edge of her mind, close but not close enough. It made her think about years gone by. Christmas in the country with her grandparents. Christmas before her father left. Christmas from another lifetime.
“You need help?”
The voice came at her from the dark, and she blinked, turning her head to the right. A man stood there, keys jangling from his fingers.
Her throat was tight, her chest on fire, and she tried to speak. “No one here,” she croaked, her voice cut short by a sob. The world started to spin, the snow a brilliant white against all that darkness. Maybe if she just closed her eyes, she’d wake up in the morning and find the entire night was nothing more than a bad dream.
That sounded good, didn’t it?
Chess decided that was exactly what she’d do. She closed her eyes and let the spinning wash over her. The world tilted to the left, and she let it. If not for the strong arms that grabbed her, she would have fallen. They scooped her up and held her tight. A voice wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket, and she snuggled inside, grateful to finally give in and disappear from a world that had turned on her.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Are you an angel?” she murmured, eyes fluttering open. She couldn’t see a face because everything was in shadow. But his voice was clear and strong, and it was the last thing she heard before everything faded away.
“No. Not even close.”
But that was all right. Chess didn’t believe in angels anymore.
Chapter Two
Cash Bodine relaxed in the rickety chair that was tucked into the corner beside the only other piece of furniture in the room besides the bed: one of the saddest excuses for a dresser he’d ever seen. And that was saying something considering he’d stayed in more than his fair share of dives over the last few years. He leaned back, long legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, eating a candy bar and nursing a can of beer from the six-pack on the floor. Outside, the wind roared, picking up speed and strength in what was now being hailed as the biggest storm to hit these parts in nearly twenty years.
He shook his head. Just his luck to roll into town in the middle of it.
His plan had been to chill at a hotel tonight before surprising his sister, Blue, in the morning. But the snow and ice had made the roads nearly impassable and the driving too dangerous. The fancy hotel at the golf course where he’d made a reservation was out of reach, and he’d been forced off the highway at the first exit. He’d taken a room at this run-down motel and was stuck here for the time being.
And now he had a woman asleep on his bed. A woman who looked as if her night had taken a far worse turn than his. She moaned softly and turned over, her face barely visible in the dim light, beneath all the hair that tumbled down around her. She’d been restless since he’d laid her down, and Cash thought that maybe she had demons, that they’d followed her into her dreams.
He tossed the candy wrapper into the garbage and sat back with a frown. That was something he was all too familiar with.
Another wave of snow and ice slammed into the window, the noise as loud as the rumbles from his stomach. He hadn’t eaten since he’d stopped at a roadhouse in Ohio on his way up from Kentucky, and that had been hours ago. He peered out the window but couldn’t see shit, then pulled his hoodie over his head, slipped his leather jacket on, and headed out into the elements. A diner was attached to the motel, and he was hoping they were still serving up food.
The lights were still on in the Crystal Lake Diner, though the glass was fogged up pretty good. Cash couldn’t see anyone, and with a biting cold wind at his back, he trudged inside and stamped his feet to clear his boots of snow. When he glanced up, he caught sight of a tall, lanky man who looked to be in his mid-to-late fifties, standing behind the counter nursing a coffee. A hairnet was pulled tight over his graying head, indicating he was the cook, though the cigarette dangling from his mouth was a little dubious. Sitting across from him was a woman with faded red hair pulled back into a frizzy ponytail with one-inch gray roots and warm brown eyes. She had a kind face, albeit one that life had settled into, and she turned around with a smile.
“Good Lord, didn’t think we’d see anyone out in this weather.”
Cash walked over to them. “The storm forced me off the highway, so looks like I’m stuck here for the next little while.” He looked at the cook. “You still working the fryers and grill?”
The man nodded. He took one last long drag from his cigarette and then crushed it in a tin can before looking at the woman.
“I told you to turn the damn sign over and lock the door.” He gave one last, unimpressed glance toward Cash and headed back to the kitchen.
“Don’t mind him,” the woman said, slipping from the stool. “He’s been grumpy since 1989.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Right?” She shook her head with a laugh. “I tell him all the time. I say, Steve, if you don’t turn that frown upside down, it’s going to take damn near ten years off your life.” She smiled. “Now, what can I get for you?”
“What do you got?”
“Honey, we can make pretty much whatever you ask for, although nothing too fancy. Don’t go asking for prime rib or steak or roast chicken, if you get my meaning.”
“How about a burger with the works, bacon and cheese, and an order of fries.”
“Sweet potato or regular?”
“I’m good with the regular kind.”
“Good, because I think we’re all out of the sweet potato. Everyone’s trying to eat healthier these days.” She moved toward the counter. “Take a seat. As you can see, you’ve got your pick.” She paused. “You want to eat in? Or is this takeout?”
“If you could wrap it up to go, that’d be great.” Cash thought of the woman he’d left in his room. “Actually, can you double that order and throw in a couple of bottles of water and maybe some of that apple pie I see over there?”
“That won’t be a problem.”
The woman disappeared, and Cash nabbed a stool at the counter, accepting a hot cup of coffee when she came back out. She poured herself a mug and leaned against the counter.
“You from around here?”
“No. Just visiting for the holidays.”
“Family?”
He nodded. “My sister, Bluebell. She lives on the other side of the lake.”
“Bluebell? That’s some handle.”
Cash grinned. “It is. Most folks call her Blue.”
“My name is Joely, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Cash.”
“Like Johnny?”
He nodded. “Like Johnny.” A brief memory floated through his mind, of him as a little boy dancing around the dining room with his mother as she sang about a ring of fire and laughed until her sides hurt.
It was there until he blinked it away. The past wasn’t something he liked to visit unless he had to. When he focused again, he noticed Joely was look
ing at him as if she was expecting something.
“What was that?” he asked, taking a sip of the hot liquid.
“I asked who the other burger was for.”
“A woman.”
“Uh-huh.” She leaned closer and winked. “There’s always some woman, isn’t there?”
“No. It’s not like that. I literally just met her. She ran out of the office like a bat of out hell and then couldn’t get into her room.” He didn’t tell Joely that she’d all but fainted in his arms or of the state of her clothing, and he sure as hell didn’t mention the shiner she’d be sporting once morning hit. He figured it wasn’t any of Joely’s business.
“She from room twenty-nine?”
He thought about it and nodded. “I think that’s the one she was trying to get into.”
“Well, since I saw Danielle Somers stumble her way into a cab three or four hours ago, meaning she went to the casino or a bar in town, she’s not coming home anytime soon. I’m guessing you’ve got her daughter, Chess, holed up in your room.” She paused and raised an eyebrow. “You should watch out for that one.”
“Hey, I’m just helping the lady out for the night. I’ve got zero interest in getting involved with anybody.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She sure is a looker, and from my experience, most men find a woman like her irresistible.” Joely shrugged. “Chess Somers is complicated. I know folks around here like to talk, and the talk about those two isn’t all that good. I mean, her and her mother. But something about Chess just tugs at my heart. I don’t know what it is. She can be high and mighty, no doubt about that. And like I say to Steve, if you’re living in a two-bit motel like this one, you can’t afford to be high and mighty. But there are times she comes in here and I catch something in those big eyes of hers, something real sad, like she’s given up.”
A Little Bit of Christmas (A Crystal Lake Novel Book 3) Page 1
