How the Hitman Stole Christmas

Turns out, it’s no challenge at all.

My tire blew up. I’ve never seen that happen before. I don’t know why it happened. Was it something I did?

More importantly than all that, though… what the heck am I supposed to do about it?

I don’t know anything about cars beyond when to take them to a garage for an oil change, so this is more than mildly distressing. I didn’t set out to be stranded on the side of the road in a snow storm, but I guess that’s the night I’m getting.

Great.

I reach into the car and grab my cell phone out of the cup holder. I need to call Brady. This tire will have to be changed before I can drive the car again, and I wouldn’t have the first clue how to do that.

Brady probably would, but wouldn’t you know, I have no cell service.

Could this night get any worse?

The bitter chill in the air is so intense that it takes my breath away, so after looking as far as I can see behind me and in front of me and seeing no one else on the road, I get back into the car.

I guess I’ll have to wait here for a while. I can’t believe my stupid phone isn’t working, but I do appear to be in the middle of nowhere. I try to think of the last business I passed.

There was a gas station back a little ways. It looked permanently closed, but there was a car parked out front and fresh tire tracks, so someone must have been there. Maybe I could use their phone to call for help.

It’s so cold outside, I can’t imagine walking all that way, though. I don’t even know how long I’d be walking; I can’t remember how many songs ago it was that I passed the place.

Even if I do have to make the trek, I want to start out as warm as possible. The car still has lots of gas, so I turn it back on and crank up the heat.

“Silver Bells” comes on the radio and that’s my very favorite Christmas song, so I tell myself I’ll enjoy the heat just a little longer while I listen to it. When the song ends, I’ll start walking back toward the gas station. Hopefully, whoever was there when I drove past will still be there.

This road has been so empty the whole time I’ve been driving on it, it feels like nothing short of a Christmas miracle when I catch sight of a pair of headlights in the rearview mirror. I gasp, throwing open my door and jumping out so I can flag them down. With the road the way it is out here, they’ll need extra time to stop.

“Hey! Excuse me! Help!” I wave my arms in the air to attract the driver’s attention.

Much to my relief, the car starts to slow down. I sigh heavily and back up so I’m safely out of the way as the car pulls off to the side just ahead of me.

The door opens and a man climbs out. My relief grows and I can’t help smiling as I march through the snow toward my savior.

“Hi,” I call out, hugging my white coat tightly against my body. “Thank you so much for stopping.”

The man eyes my car as he walks toward me, apparently trying to assess what’s wrong. “Having a little car trouble?”

“Yes. The tire… it blew up or something, I don’t know what happened. I tried to call my boyfriend to come help me, but I don’t seem to have service.”

He nods, unsurprised. “It’s a dead zone for about a mile around here.” His gaze moves away from the car and lands on my face. “You have a spare in the trunk?”

His voice is deep and masculine with an effortless kind of confidence that tells me as long as I have a tire in the trunk, he’ll be able to help me.

I am so relieved.

“I’m not sure,” I confess, feeling myself flush. I know he doesn’t notice since the weather has already made my face rosy, but now that he’s asked, I feel like that is something I should have thought to check on my own. “Apparently I’m useless when my car breaks down.”

The corners of his mouth tug up. “Tell that boyfriend of yours he needs to teach you how to change a tire.”

“I don’t even know if he can change a tire,” I mutter.

“Every man should be able to change a tire,” he says dismissively, like it’s not even worth considering.

“He hasn’t been my boyfriend for long,” I explain. “It’s kind of a new relationship, so we don’t know everything about one another yet.”

“Does anyone ever know everything about someone else?” he returns casually.

I stop and look back at him, frowning. “I certainly hope so.”