The Kidnapped Christmas Bride

“Yeah, I pretty much figured that out.”

“So turn around!” she begged, heartsick.

“Darlin’, I’m already screwed. Everybody in that church knows what happened. I’ve no doubt in my mind that Larry or one of your brothers has alerted the police. It’s not a question of if I’m going back to prison, it’s just a matter of when. So, since I’m going back behind bars for another couple of years, I want a Christmas to remember. A Christmas when we were almost a happy family.”

“Trey.”

“I understand you don’t love me. I won’t ask you to love me. But I will ask you to let me be my son’s dad for a few days. That’s all I want.”

She looked at him for a long minute, taking in his hard beautiful profile, a profile that glowed in the light of the dash.

He was bad….he was trouble…and yet whenever she’d needed him, he’d been there. When she’d been terrified of the dark, scared of the bad buys, scared that she’d be attacked and murdered, he’d held her and protected her, vowing to keep her safe.

And he didn’t just do things like that for her. When Neve Shepherd had disappeared in the river after the 1996 prom, he and Troy had driven their pickup back and forth along the river bank with Trey at the wheel, shining their headlights in the water for an hour, trying to find her. Trey had driven with huge skill. He hadn’t wanted to give up. He’d hated that neither he nor anyone else had managed to save her.

As long as he lived, he’d promised McKenna, no one would hurt her.

As long as he lived, he’d vowed over and over, she’d be fine.

And she’d believed him.

She’d felt so safe with him…

McKenna turned her head away and stared out the window again, unable to see anything through the hot tears blurring her vision.

She’d once loved him so much. He’d been her everything.

McKenna blinked back the tears. “I hate you,” she whispered. “I hate you, Trey Sheenan.”

He was silent a long moment and then he sighed. “As you should.”

Chapter Six

‡

They drove through Livingston, and continued north for nearly another hour, the highway a dark ribbon beneath the rising moon. TJ broke the silence to ask if he could play a game on McKenna’s phone.

“I don’t have my phone, TJ,” she answered.

“It’s not in your purse?”

“I don’t have my purse.” She shot Trey a glance. “I don’t have anything but what I’m wearing.”

TJ was silent a moment, processing, and then he looked at Trey. “Do you have games on your phone?” he asked hopefully.

Trey grimaced. “I don’t have a phone.”

TJ’s brow creased. “Here?”

“At all.” He looked down at TJ. “You can’t have one where I was.”

“Ah.” TJ pursed his lips and thought about this for a few seconds. “But you’re out now. Don’t you want one?”

“Yes. I just haven’t had time to get one.”

“Didn’t you have one from before?”

“I did. But it’s old now. Technology changed while I was away.”

TJ nodded. “There’s a new iPhone out now, you know. Mom wouldn’t get it though. She said her old one still works. But I’d like one—”

“How do you know all this?”

“Commercials. TV.” TJ shrugged nonchalantly. “And from Mom and Lawrence talking. He wanted to get Mom a new phone but she said no.”

Trey glanced down at TJ again. “Are all five year olds as smart as you?”

TJ thought about it a minute then shrugged. “Some. Some aren’t.” He thought about it some more. “Lawrence thinks I’m too smart. He says I’m going to end up just like you.”

McKenna winced, even as Trey exhaled hard.

That couldn’t have felt good to hear, she thought. But what did he expect? He’d never been Marietta’s model citizen, but going to prison and leaving her alone with a baby certainly hadn’t endeared him to the community.

“I hope you don’t end up like me,” Trey said after a long pause, his voice pitched low and heavy. “I want you to be better. I want you to be successful. Be a good man. Be strong and smart. Do good in school. Be the man your mother is raising you to be. Make her proud, TJ. Make her happy.”

*

For the next thirty minutes no one said much of anything, but after a while, TJ got restless and he shifted on the seat, drawing his legs up and then down, leaning first against McKenna and then on Trey.

“I’m hungry,” he said grumpily. “And I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Me, too,” McKenna agreed, thinking that if they stopped she could use a phone and call Lawrence and let him know what was happening. She didn’t want him calling the sheriff or the police. The last thing TJ needed was to see his father arrested in front of him.

“We are almost to White Sulphur Springs,” Trey said. “There’s a little diner just a mile or so from here. Nothing fancy, but food’s warm and the floor’s clean.”

“Do they have chicken?” TJ asked.

“Yes,” Trey answered.

“And buttered noodles?”

“I’m sure they do.”

“Good. Let’s go there.”

The diner’s parking lot was empty except for a couple of pick ups and a lone big rig parked in a far corner of the lot.

A few evergreens hugged the broken asphalt, and years of snow and ice and heavy trucks had pitted the parking lot’s surface.

Climbing from the truck, McKenna’s heels caught in the cracks and ruts, making her stumble.

Trey scooped up TJ who was still wearing Trey’s suit coat, and came to her side. “TJ, what if we give your mom the coat? She’s not wearing much and it’s cold out.”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” she answered crisply. “Let’s just get inside. It’ll be warm there.”

“So stubborn,” he muttered, putting his hand at her elbow to help guide her across the icy parking lot, but she wasn’t having that, either, and tugged her arm free.

“I’m not an old lady, Trey. I can manage.”

But this time he ignored her, and took her arm again. “It’s dark and slippery and you’re wearing high heels and right now I don’t feel like rushing you to a hospital should you fall and break something.”

“I’m not going to fall and break something!”

“And I’m not going to argue.” His fingers closed around her elbow. “Let’s just get inside.”

*

In the diner bathroom, a shivering McKenna shut the stall door behind TJ and turned around to face the mirror. She blinked when she caught sight of her reflection.

Oh.

Oh. Wow.

She knew she was in white, knew she’d been driving for an hour and a half in her dress and pearls and veil with the sparkling tiara. But she’d forgotten the impact of so much white, had forgotten she looked so very…bridal.

TJ emerged from the bathroom stall, struggling to close the zipper on the little black trousers that matched his tuxedo jacket. “Can’t get it,” he said, frowning.

“Let me,” she answered, crouching in front of him, and fastening the snap at the waist band and then pulling the fabric taut and away from him, not wanting to catch his boxers or boy parts in the zipper. She’d done that once, when he was two. She’d never forget it, either, and ever since always zipped him up oh so carefully. “There. All boy junk safe and sound.”

TJ grinned, a lopsided grin that was so Trey it made her heart ache. “You’re crazy, Mom.”

“I know.” She chucked him gently under the chin and stood up. “Wash your hands while I use the restroom. Use plenty of soap and water, okay?”

“Okay.”

In the narrow stall it took some maneuvering to get the full skirt and tulle petticoats up, and the silky fabric and train out of the toilet, but she managed without damaging the dress too much, although the hem was dirty in places, probably from the walk acros

s the parking lot caked with packed dirty snow and salted ice.

She’d woken up feeling emotional this morning. She’d felt jittery at the church, and worried about everything going well, but it had never crossed her mind, that this was how today would go…

Practically kidnapped at the altar by Trey.

TJ was waiting for her by the sink, his brow wrinkled and expression brooding.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him. “You okay?”

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Lawrence said after you marry him I have to call him Dad. But I don’t want to. He’s not my dad.”

“He’s going to be your step-dad. That means you’re lucky. You get two dads—”

“He’s not my dad,” he stubbornly repeated.

“I think you’re being a little mean to him because your real dad’s home, but that’s not fair to Lawrence who has always been really good to you.”

“Because he likes you.”

“Lawrence likes you, too.”

“Not that much.”

“Oh, TJ, that’s not true. He cares a lot about you!”

“Then why does he smile weird when he talks to me? Like he’s got to poop and doesn’t want anyone to know it.”

“Trey James!”

“It’s true.”

“You are being ridiculous!” She turned to the paper towel dispenser and took a paper towel to dry her hands. “And rude.” She shot him a disapproving glance. “I won’t tolerate you being rude to him, either. He hasn’t done anything to deserve disrespect.” She held his gaze. “You know what disrespect means, don’t you?”

He hung his head. “Yes.”

“You’re to be polite, and kind. You’re to listen and follow the rules. Understand?”

He hung his head lower. “Yes.”