Caught for Christmas (Stripped 3.50)

His expression is so focused as he pushes the needle through the puffy kernels, as if he’s on the battlefield, as if it’s a question of life or death. So I can’t help but toss a kernel at him, which bounces off his broad and impressively solid chest.

He looks up, first in surprise, then in mischievous delight—he retaliates with a hail of popcorn fire.

Then the bowl is empty, and I’m flat on the rug, laughing, popcorn in my hair. I’m a disaster, but he looks down at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

It’s strange and rare, and I would give anything to stay like this forever.

Even now, in pure bliss, there’s a frantic edge, an undertone of dread, because it will never be enough.

His phone chimes, and I feel him tense above me. He backs off me, and I immediately miss the safety of his arms, the surety of his weight. His body moves stiffly as he crosses the room to check the text message, as if whatever’s happening pains him. Or worries him.

What could worry a man as strong and sure as this one?

“What’s wrong?” I ask softly.

He looks at me, and a shadow crosses his face. I know he feels the loss of intimacy, of warmth as much as I do. “We think your parents skipped town.”

“Oh.” The thought makes my stomach clench, even though I don’t want to see them again. Abandonment never really gets easier. It’s just less of a surprise.

He pauses, his expression guarded. “We found the motel room they’d been renting. It had some schematics of the Grand and other items that identify them.”

Guilt and shame war within me. I’m embarrassed that I ever tried to rob the club. I’m glad we failed. The Grand was never really at risk anyway. We only got that far inside because West had been setting a trap.

I fold my arms across myself. “Maybe you could just… let them go. They didn’t take anything.”

His expression is dark. “That’s not the problem.”

Realization

dawns. “The money. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s what they told me Jeb owed the Caivano family. Maisie said…she said they were holding him hostage until they got their money.”

“The Caivano family doesn’t take hostages.”

“No,” I agree quietly. If I had been thinking straight I might have realized that. The Caivano family isn’t known for their patience. Or their mercy. They would have killed Jeb if they could have gotten their hands on him. “Maisie showed me his ring as proof that he was taken. I was so worried.”

My voice cracks on the last word. It makes my stomach turn over to think about them planning to con me—about him giving her his ring just to make sure I went through with the job. I’m a fool for ever worrying about him.

For ever loving him, even if he is my father.

Anger flashes through West’s eyes. “With them gone…”

With them gone, the Caivanos will be out for blood. And I’m the only one left. “So I’m in trouble,” I say, trying to sound light.

I want him to tell me I’m wrong. I want him to tell me I’m safe.

“Your apartment was searched,” he says instead.

My stomach turns over as I imagine my crappy apartment in tatters. There wasn’t much there—my clothes and some old pictures. Piles of yarn that I mostly unravel from antique clothing I find at garage sales.

My throat feels tight. “I guess it was always going to end like this.”

West’s expression is fierce. “No one will touch you.”

I shake my head while he’s speaking, because he can’t protect me forever. “Don’t worry about me.” My voice rings false. “I’ve looked after myself this long.”

“You’ll stay here,” he says. “We’re looking for your parents, and Blue has contacts with the Caivano family to see if we can work something out. I’m looking after you now.”

Even the conviction in his words can’t comfort me now.