Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology

by E. J. Darling

  “Oh?”

  “Apparently,” Mr. Hanscome continued, “she’s a beautiful little plaything in the light of the moon. If only you pay her enough.”

  Evin’s heart rattled in her chest, her legs like putty beneath her. Where did that fear come from all of a sudden? Why was she there, taking their eyes on her flesh like she was a no one without it? Why wasn’t she at home with her father?

  “Very interesting.” Mr. Stockton, who was a dead ringer for any mugshot of a deviant rapist with his thin combover and a scraggly mustache, parted the two and stepped up to her. They were nearly eye level, his beady one’s dark as ink. “How about we test that theory? How much would it take for you to come back to my little cabin tonight? Hmm?”

  That was enough. She couldn’t do it anymore. Her fight or flight reflexes were done warring with each other. She didn’t belong there. She didn’t belong in that world with those people. Nothing she did in life warranted that kind of behavior, and she wouldn’t stand for it anymore.

  “You couldn’t fucking pay me enough.” With one sharp, meticulous blow, she nailed Mr. Stockton in the face, and he went down like the weak jawed man she knew he was.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” Mr. Littleston grabbed her arm, his fingers too tight.

  She balled up a fist and looked him dead in the eye. “Let me go or I swear to God I’ll do the same thing to you.”

  After a moment of judgement, eyes now on them, the man let her go and she stomped off without so much as a glance around the room.

  She was stupid for coming there with Tucker. She was stupid thinking she could be anything other than a whore. She allowed him to make her think it was all different when it wasn’t. It was time to go home. It was time to be with her father.

  Only one problem remained, and he appeared out of nowhere just outside the ballroom.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Evin?” He reached out to stop her, but she jerked her arm from his grasp, a horrid look in her eye.

  “Let me go.” There was more to those three words than she let on, but he couldn’t reach it yet. Wouldn’t accept it. He was too in shock and confused about what the hell was going on.

  She stepped backward, her eyes red and threatening tears. He stepped toward her, once, twice, but she held her hand out and shook her head.

  “Don’t follow me.” Her voice broke, and she winced, a tear falling. “This was a mistake. A horrible mistake. I’m sorry.”

  When she turned, she didn’t look back. Not once. Why was he panicked? Why did her walking away hurt so bad? He looked around the ballroom, realizing all eyes were on him. And what the fuck just happened?

  “Mr. Matthews!” An enraged voice called from near the refreshment table. “I will have a word with you.”

  He stood quiet, his mind working on what he should do. Go after Evin, the one who told him not to follow her? Or did he go toward his boss, who was still working to pick up Mr. Stockton off the floor?

  A sick feeling came over him as his mind realized who was standing together. It was no secret the depravity old, wealthy men shared. Hell, there were stories in the news almost every day about that in particular. The three of them together, one of which he knew for a fact had a penchant for young women, and he could almost visualize what happened. His eyes roamed theirs and the crowds, and it was confirmed.

  But how? How would they know anything about her?

  He looked down the hall, to where Evin disappeared, and stepped into the ballroom, heading straight for his boss. “What happened?”

  “Your little bitch tried to break my nose.” Mr. Stockton held the left side of his face, his thin combover a mess.

  Tucker said nothing. He didn’t know Evin well, but he could assume she wouldn’t just come right out and deck a man in the face without being provoked first.

  Mr. Hanscome cleared his throat. “Barney here found out who your little date was.” He looked Tucker up and down, sparking a fury inside, and he instantly went on the defense. “Or shall I say what she is.”

  “What she is?” Again, he looked between the three of them, holding back every nasty thing he wanted to say. After Christmas, he still needed a job, and Mr. Hanscome would still be his boss no matter if Tucker complained or not on the man’s actions. “What is she? A young, beautiful woman? Someone you couldn’t break down and force to stroke your ego?”

  Well, there went the job. Might as well go for the throat. Tucker darted his eyes toward Mr. Littleston then around the room. Eyes and ears were everywhere, pretending not to overhear the conversation. “And how could you possibly know what Ms. Coates is, Mr. Littleston? Hmm?”

  Tucker smiled. It all made sense now. There was no other explanation on how the man could possibly know Evin’s profession unless he himself visited a little website called First Class Escorts.

  The description she gave him about her Friday night date was a dead ringer for Barney, and it was enough to throw some verbal accusations.

  “Oh, Mr. Littleston. How much do you pay to suck on a woman’s toes wherever you go? Does it get you off at night just thinking about them?”

  The man’s face dropped and the snickering behind Tucker lifted his foul mood just the slightest. Revenge. Karma. Whatever it was called, it felt good. Like sweet justice. If they could embarrass Evin in front of a room, they could take it when it was dished out.

  “I imagine an unhealthy amount.” Tucker cocked a brow and leveled the disgusting excuse for a man with a glare. “Does your wife know you pay women just to satisfy your fetish?”

  Their faces went blank and Tucker looked them up and down with disgust before turning on his heel and leaving the party. It was over, and he needed to get to Evin. Comfort her.

  Why? He was a decent person, and she was hurting. He saw it all over her face. But more than that, they shared a bond, even if it was a fresh one, and all he wanted to do was make it all okay.

  If he could.

  When he stepped out into the icy night air, Duncan and the car were gone.

  “Fuck!”

  He wanted to hit something, someone more like, but there wasn’t anything but fucking snow everywhere. It fell from the sky as peacefully as before, but it only enraged him now. He wanted it to blow, for the wind to cut through his suit and chill his bones. He wanted the outside to match his inside.

  Without pause, he began the trek to the cabin. He didn’t care if he had to walk miles in the snow, he would. Damn it he would. She woke him up, brought light to an otherwise gray existence.

  She wasn’t numbers and money, not bills and paychecks. She was…Evin.

  It felt like it took an hour to get back to the cabin, and when he arrived, he didn’t feel any better about the situation.

  The car wasn’t there, nor did he see it on his journey back. A black pit opened in his stomach as he pushed the door open, hoping and praying he wasn’t right.

  He ran to her bedroom but the only thing he found was a delicately laid out red dress, already cool to the touch, and a velvet box with two diamond earrings in it. No bag, no shoes, nothing of hers in the bathroom either. It was as if she never existed.

  It was a heavy contrast to his soul. She had been there, left her mark, but his eyes told him a different story.

  She was gone.

  Tucker grabbed his phone, loosened his tie, and slid into the floor while dialing Duncan’s number. It rang and rang, but no one picked up. He hung up and called again. Same thing.

  “Fuck!” It was all he could do not to throw his phone against the wall and race down that mountain on foot.

  Was it even a good idea to chase her? What would that even mean if he did? He’d known her all of two days, despite the past he held on to, and the impression he made on her was obviously not as strong as the one she made on him.

  He never would have stepped out like that, never would have left without a goodbye.

  What the fuck was he supposed to do with all that information? If she didn’t want him,
he had no place to step in, but how did he know that for a fact?

  Reluctantly, he peeled himself up off the floor and sauntered into the living room. The tree they decorated still stood perfectly, unwavering in the midst of his crisis. It taunted him, a reminder, proof of her presence in the cabin.

  If she wanted to be gone, away from here and him, he should let her be then.

  Shouldn’t he?

  After an hour, after he killed half a bottle of wine sitting on the couch trying not to ignite the fucking tree, his phone vibrated.

  He cursed into the bottle as he took a swig, not budging. It was probably his boss calling to tell him he wouldn’t have a job when they got back to Texas.

  He could fuck off while Tucker wallowed.

  The phone rang again, that time he scanned the screen.

  Duncan. That asshole.

  “What do you want?”

  There was a long silence, and Tucker nearly gave in and hung up the damn phone before he heard the man speak.

  “She’s destroyed.”

  Now it was Tucker’s turn to be silent. He knew that already. Damn it he fucking knew that. But what the hell was he supposed to do? If Evin wanted comfort from him, she wouldn’t have ran out, shut him out, but she did. After all, they were basically strangers.

  No, not basically. They were. He knew absolutely nothing about her.

  “She has every right to be.” He paused again. “Why do you care?” I could have asked her myself if you hadn’t taken her away.

  “Because she's a sweet girl and no one deserves to cry on Christmas Eve. She told me if you asked, which you haven’t, she was fine and to have a Merry Christmas.”

  “Did she say anything else?” Anything would help at that point. He didn’t really know the man, but for some reason, he was hanging on Duncan’s every word.

  “She said not to let you come for her.”

  Tucker smiled. She did know him better than that. Not once had he left her to be sad, to feel pain without his comfort. There was hope. If she knew the type of man he was, she knew that demand would never stop him.

  “Duncan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Pick me up.”

  There was a pause, and Duncan chuckled. “I’m already outside, Sir.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  She said it before, and she’d say it again. Fuck men. All men.

  Maybe even Tucker.

  But right then, her heart was too tired to deal with all that. It was over and done with anyway. He’d go back to Texas tomorrow and life would get back to normal.

  That pained her even more.

  Silent sobs creaked their way out of her. All she had was herself in that empty house. Well, and the shell of the man who once consoled her every heartbreak. What would her father tell her at that moment?

  She didn’t know anymore. Probably, keep your chin up, kid. Life’s hard until you find what keeps you going.

  Though, she thought she may have actually done that.

  Evin looked up to the face that once held so much strength. When she made it home, crawled beside him in bed and put her ear to his softly rattling chest, she’d almost fallen asleep. But it was impossible to let it all go.

  His fingers tapped her gently, all he could do to show he was there mentally.

  “I love you, Dad.” She wiped her own tears away, because who else would do it, and kissed his warm cheek. “But I miss you more. It’s unfair to want you to stay here with me forever. I know that. I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

  He tapped her back again, and she smiled. He really was there, just trapped in a body that couldn’t go on much longer. That was the worst part of it all. His brain wanted to stay, but his body needed to go.

  It was all she could do to hold it together.

  There was always one thing that could cheer her up, one way to hear her father’s voice again.

  Evin crawled out of his bed and padded over to the television and VCR. Below it, were years and years worth of home videos: Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving. There were even a few videos of her dad cheering her on during a couple softball games, something she quickly gave up.

  But as she fingered through the stacks, one stood out above the others. It was labeled Summer Vacation: 1999. She remembered that trip vividly because on the way home, she broke her arm on a bathroom break. It was the worst rest stop memory she ever had, and there were a lot of bad rest stops between Aspen and Corpus Christi.

  Corpus Christi.

  Evin sniffled and slid the VHS out of its sleeve before pushing it into the player. When the TV switched on, and the player warmed up, her father’s voice hit her ears and she was overcome once again.

  Like a child, Evin tucked her knees in and sat so close to the screen she felt like she was there again.

  “Come on, Evy! Jump!”

  She would have been ten that year, and that meant she was in her third year of gymnastics. That also meant a terrible attempt at a back handspring was coming and she could almost feel the pain in her wrist while she watched her younger self attempt the awful stunt.

  Her back hit the sand and her father’s laughter had her in sobs.

  “That’s okay, sweetheart! We’ll keep practicing.”

  They didn’t keep practicing.

  After she broke her arm, she was done with the whole business. Never stepped a foot on the mat after that.

  Her dad never said anything about it either. Just nodded his head and let her run off to the next thing.

  The camera jostled and straightened out. Her dad stepped into the frame and picked her up off the sand, dusting off her backside. It didn’t pick up on camera, but when her dad squatted in front of her, he gave her one of those pep talks that engrained itself in her soul forever. She could almost hear it. Not over the speakers, but in her head and her heart.

  “Practice makes perfect, kiddo. And you can do anything you set your mind to.” Wasn’t she supposed to have daddy issues? Wasn’t he supposed to be awful and run out on her and her mom so she could feel better about landing where she had?

  Maybe.

  But at the very least, at the very center of her being, was a confident and loved person who was raised by the best man that ever lived. He taught her what it meant to be loved, and she never forgot it.

  Unfortunately, that feeling happened to be with a man that bought her time and would be gone all too soon.

  Funny old world, isn’t it?

  The movie played, and Evin kept her weary eyes on the screen. They played, picnicked, and played again. Glimpses of the day were caught on camera, sandcastles, covering her dad up with sand and pretending the tide was coming in. The camera jostled all the while because she didn’t know what she was doing.

  After a day of fun, something interesting happened. The camera picked back up as the sun was going down, the jostling a telltale sign of her directing. She panned the beach but stopped on her father.

  She didn’t have a memory of the act but had a secondary one from watching the video before.

  The moment always seemed odd to her, never able to fully grasp the concept of it. Her dad sat next to a boy she didn’t know, looking out over the crashing waves. Evin paused the video and moved closer to the screen.

  It couldn’t be.

  That man didn’t make it into her home video…that was impossible.

  Wasn’t it?

  A knock came at the door and Evin jumped, caught off guard. She took a shuddered breath and glanced at her father, his eyes on her.

  “Expecting someone?” There was no response obviously, but it lightened her mood a little to pretend.

  Evin wiped her eyes and straightened her oversized shirt. There was very little doubt who it was, and she made a mental note to skin Duncan alive for being on Tucker’s side and not hers.

  Instead of opening it, Evin put her forehead on the door and called out. “What do you want?”

  There was a pause, and a gentle thud. Maybe a hand resting on
the door. “I want to talk to you.”

  “What about?” It was all over with, and all she wanted to do was forget the night, the entire weekend and get back to normal wallowing, not whatever the fuck she was doing that night.

  But, her eyes swept back to the television, and to that face paused on the screen. Then, they swept to the man lying on his deathbed. The man who touched more lives than just hers.

  There would be no forgetting Tucker Matthews whether she let him in or not. And she very much did want to let him in. Into the home and to her heart…for some stupid reason she could understand.

  She never said anything to Tucker about her dad. He didn’t know he was alive just beyond the door.

  “Please let me in so we can talk.”

  Evin relented, cracking the door open. When she caught his gaze, their red swollen eyes almost matched. Why the fuck was he upset? She was the one that got exposed as a whore in front of countless people. That was dramatic, but the way she felt was warranted.

  “I shouldn’t let you in. You just need to go.” There was some truth in that, but she didn’t mean any of it. “So, tell me why I should.”

  “Well, my gut response is that it’s cold as shit out here and it’s less romantic when I’m shiverin’.” His brows shot up expectantly.

  She was supposed to let him in. It was the nice thing to do.

  “Is this supposed to be romantic?”

  Tucker looked around, to the porch and behind him into the dark abyss of an Aspen night. Then, his gaze came back to hers with a smile. “Isn’t this the part where I tell you I can’t live without your light and vibrance? That life would suck if you weren’t in it? I don’t know the answer. I’ve never been good with romance.

  “All I know is that I’m an adult, you’re an adult, and I don’t care how the fuck we met. I still want you. I more than want you. I want you with me everywhere. I want to kick everyone’s ass when they look at you. I want you to warm my bed every night. I want all of you all the time.”

  Well, shit. That was romantic as hell.

  “Tucker, you don’t even know me.”