Page 38 of Santa's Dark Secret
My brain is a fog of what-ifs.
What if this isn’t what she actually wanted?
What if my father figures it out?
What if a life with me isn’t actually fulfilling for her?
The questions plague me, one after another, and it’s enough to drive me insane as the reindeer race through the snow, taking us the last few feet toward my home. They know exactly where they’re going, and as Tucker leads them right to my door, the unease in my chest only gets worse.
The sleigh comes to a stop in the early light of Christmas morning, and as Mila sleeps soundly beside me, I scoop her into my arms, realizing I’m going to have to find my way back to her apartment and pack up her things or have my helpers go out and purchase her a whole new wardrobe. Though to be honest, I’venever lived with a woman. I don’t really know what she will need. Once she’s awake and on board with her whole kidnapping, perhaps we could work it out together.
With Mila securely in my arms, I jump down from the sleigh and walk up the line of reindeer until I reach Tuck at the front. I make sure to scratch him under the chin while doing everything I can to ignore the judgment in his eyes. “Keep your mouth shut about this, and there’ll be extra dessert for the next week and a half.”
Naturally, the fucker can’t talk, but the way he looks at me is almost as though he can perfectly understand what I’m saying, and the slight nod he gives of approval is exactly what I need.
I laugh to myself as I step around him and make my way down the small path that leads toward my front door. It’s a short walk, but with Mila in my arms, I’d happily walk the whole fucking globe. I reach my door in no time, and I have to juggle her a bit to get the door open, but I don’t have to bother with a key. We don’t need to lock our doors around here. The only person who might be a threat when it comes to breaking into other people’s homes is probably me.
Sue me. I’m not exactly a great guy, and the fact that I’ve just kidnapped Mila is more than proof of that.
Taking her into my home is somewhat surreal. I’ve always dreamed of what it would be like to have her here. Sure, it might not have been under these circumstances, but she made the wish, and I did nothing but grant it. It’s my Santa-ly duties after all. Besides, I’d granted the rest of her wishes through the night. Why would she think for even one second that I wouldn’t grant that one? You know, apart from the fact I told her I couldn’t. I can guarantee that kidnapping really isn’t what she had in mind though.
Oh well, she’s here now, and considering it’s officially sunrise on Christmas morning, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Making my way through my home, I use my hip to push open my bedroom door and lay Mila down with her head against my pillow. I pull the snow-white sheets over her shoulders before adding a thick blanket. I have heating here, but the freezing temperature outside always wins, no matter how hard I run the heating.
I want to be here when Mila wakes, but if I don’t circle back and return the sleigh for its usual Christmas Day maintenance, my father is bound to come asking questions, and finding Mila out cold in my bed isn’t the way I want to break the news that their only son kidnapped a woman during the night.
Mila is well and truly out, and considering the long night we’ve both had, I can only assume she’ll be out for a few more hours. So with that resolve, I leave her be, closing the door behind me as I walk out of the bedroom. In a perfect world, I’d lie down beside her and spend all day sleeping with her in my arms, but duty calls, and unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of calling the shots right now.
Making my way out of my home, I pull the front door closed, and just as I’m walking back to the sleigh, I hesitate. Leaving the door unsecured feels like a bad idea this time, so I double back to lock it. I know I just said that we don’t have to worry about that around here, but in this particular case, I’m trying to keep someone from breaking out rather than breaking in.
If Mila wakes up when I’m not here, I don’t want to risk her taking off. My home is surrounded by a reindeer farm, and outside of that is a thick line of woods. I don’t want to risk her freaking out and running, only to get her ass lost in the woods. Don’t get me wrong, I’d spend the rest of my life searching for her out there if I had to, but Mila strikes me as the type to runfirst and think later, and considering her lack of clothing, that could be an issue.
With that all sorted and Mila tucked safely in my bed, I take off, more than ready to drop these reindeer and the sleigh off, debrief after my run, and check in on my parents before finally making my way back here to face Mila’s wrath.
13
MILA
Astrange woodsy scent hits my nose, and just as consciousness begins to come back to me, I slowly peel my eyes open to a strange room. What the actual fuck happened?
I try to look around, and the moment my eyes shift inside my head, an instant headache booms inside my skull like a million tiny little Christmas elves have crawled in through my ears, set up a million little drum sets, and spent the night raving inside my skull. I immediately close my eyes again, willing the pain to subside.
Maybe if I stay as still as possible and keep my eyes closed, the darkness behind my lids will eventually trick my brain into thinking my headache has faded. Though I’ve never been that lucky when it comes to shit like this. A good migraine can usually take me out for days.
Perhaps I’m in the hospital. Last thing I knew, I was standing on the roof with Nick, desperately wishing he could stay, and the next, I was out cold.
Perhaps something happened with one of the reindeer and they accidentally knocked me out. Maybe I got too close to the sleigh on takeoff and hit my head, erasing the few minutes of memory beforehand. Either way, whatever happened, I’m pissed. I’ve lost my final goodbye with Nick, and now I’m going to have to wait another whole year before I get to see him again.
After a few minutes, I finally risk opening my eyes again, expecting to see the clinical walls of a hospital room. Instead, I find myself tucked into a huge king-sized bed, the pillows softer than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. The white feather blankets feel as though they were handcrafted by angels and sent straight from heaven.
“What in the ever-loving fuck?”
I push up onto my elbow. Don’t get me wrong, this bed is simply divine, but how the fuck did I get into it? And more importantly, who put me into it? Because the one thing I know for sure is that this is certainly no hospital room. No subtle beep on a heart rate monitor. No nurses walking by the door. No stiff, itchy blankets.
I look closer.
The room I’m in seems more like someone’s personal bedroom, and yet, also so far from that. There’s nothing in here that suggests it belongs to anyone. No pictures around the room, no hint of personal style, and no personal belongings left scattered on the bedside table. In my shitty apartment, you can’t walk an inch without seeing something of mine strewn across the room. Pictures of my parents in frames or clothes left hanging over the back of the couch. This room though, it’s the complete opposite.
