Ruthless

by Marlie May

  “His wife, Stephanie. She’s one of the reasons my job is so vital.” I shivered at the memory because it also reminded me of the man dying on the beach in Mexico. “She died in my arms in the park. I’d been taking a walk and I found her slumped on the grass. I did CPR but it was too late. She was already gone. The autopsy showed late-stage congestive heart failure. She must’ve been unaware of how ill she was because it was untreated.”

  “You leave tomorrow for your conference, right?” He gestured for us to join the back of the line waiting for Frisky, whoever that was.

  “Yes. It’s an overnight event being held in Ashford, which is three hours north and west of here, in the mountains.” I laughed. “The hotel is nestled in the base of a ski area and it should beautiful this time of year. The Juniper Foundation is desperate for funds. My presentation—plus the talks to be given by others in my field, will encourage our attending donors to open their purses and wallets.”

  We inched forward toward Frisky. Who was short. And moving. All I caught was a mechanical arm in a green suit with white trim, waving. Was this worth waiting in line for?

  “Do you have another mission in Mexico planned?” Eli asked.

  Remembering the man with the knife chasing me, cutting me, the policeman and his threat, sent chills through me as if I stood in a real winter landscape. My happiness dimmed, but I kept my lips in a smile to give nothing away.

  Fearing for Flint and Eli, I’d said nothing about what happened.

  “I’ve switched to stateside projects for now,” I said as lightly as possible. Nightmares of that night still haunted me. “Next fall, I’ll be in Puerto Rico for a month.” Stress from the hurricane combined with poor living conditions put older women on the island at higher cardiac risk.

  He tugged on a strand of my hair. “You’re special to do this.”

  “It’s important I give back even a little of what I’ve received throughout my life. I’ve had it easy compared to so many others in the world.” The little boy in front of us jumped in the air and squealed, reminding me we were here to have fun, not talk about heavy topics. “But enough of that. I’m feeling frisky, and my need has yet to be satisfied.”

  Eli’s eyes smoldered.

  Teasing him brought out all the joy I kept trapped inside. I hadn’t known him long, though we’d spent a lot of time together—with Flint—eight months ago in California. How long did I need to be with someone before I knew I could trust him? Warning signs had been there from the start with Russell. Was I missing something with Eli?

  My gut suggested I’d read him right.

  “Let me see if I can satisfy your need,” he said in a husky voice.

  We moved forward. When the curtain of children parted, Eli dragged me toward a tall, mechanical elf that swayed back and forth, a huge smile on his face. He held a bucket, offering it to whoever passed by.

  “Frisky is one of the twelve elves of Christmas,” Eli said solemnly.

  “Thought that was twelve days of Christmas.”

  “Here, it’s elves.” He picked a few things from the basket and held out a tiny sphere with a hole in it.

  “A bead?”

  “F is for Frisky.” He pointed to the letter etched on the side. After tugging me out of the way so others could reach Frisky, he undid my shoelace necklace, strung the bead, and returned it to my neck. “One down, eleven to go.”

  “We’re making an elf Christmas necklace? How fun.”

  “One bead for each new memory.”

  “No memories, yet.”

  “You just wait.” He took my hand and tugged me toward another line of kids winding their way through a fenced-in path. “It’s time to meet Santa and Mrs. Claus.”

  A short time later, it was our turn to ride a cherry-red sleigh that took a track winding through the woods and up a gradual incline. Emerging from the forest, our sleigh stopped at the top of the hill, in front of a huge gingerbread house. Fake cookies siding and frosting crusted-roof, but the candy cane lampposts and gumdrop chairs out front looked so real I could almost taste them.

  Eli held me back when I started toward the front door, following a set of twins dressed in identical red frilly dresses.

  “Confession time,” he said. His chest rose and fell and I wondered what huge secret he was about to confess. That he was scared of Santa? “I need to fill you in on your competition.” When I blinked, he grinned. “When I was twelve, I had a huge crush on Mrs. Claus.”

  I reeled back, pressing my clasped hands to my chest in mock horror. “No!”

  “Did.”

  “But…but…” I shook my head and laughter burst out of me. “Okay, since we’re here, you should introduce me to the competition. Will I need a weapon to defend myself from the wrath of unrequited love?”

  “Nah. I’m over her now.”

  “I guess I’m relieved?”

  Leaning close, he murmured, “I’ve moved on to someone better.”

  Heat filled my cheeks. I took his hand and squeezed. We were going to need to talk soon, because he’d knocked down the walls surrounding my heart and was forging his way inside.

  We stepped through the front doorway and were greeted by Mrs. Claus, a petite older lady who reminded me a bit of a gray-haired Julia Roberts. Beaming our way, she wore the requisite pointy glasses and long gown with an apron across the front, wrapped around her slender curves.

  “Eli,” she called out. “Long time, no see, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart?

  His face flushed while I tried not to laugh, because I could tell she was just teasing.

  Tapping her heel on the white chocolate tiled floor, Mrs. Claus pointed to her cheek, and Eli leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss.

  Her sparkling eyes turned my way, only growing wider as her gaze took in our held hands. “Ah, Eli. Alas, I see you’ve replaced me with someone else.”

  “Nice seeing you, Mrs. C., but we’re actually here for Santa,” Eli said, tugging me further into the room while I shook my head at his embarrassment. Mrs. Claus was the cutest person and I would’ve liked to chat about the boy Eli had been back then. Maybe I’d have to make my own trip to Christmastown again soon for a visit.

  “Always Santa.” She sighed. “As if the big guy in red is the only one who can dole out treats.” She lifted a tray my way. “Cookie?”

  “Oh, no thanks,” I said with a laugh as Eli led me toward the line weaving its way across the room.

  “You plan to sit on his lap?” I asked slyly, leaning into his shoulder.

  “While I am wishing for something special this year, I won’t need Santa for that,” he said in all seriousness.

  “Tell me. Are you on the nice or naughty list?”

  He chuckled. “Definitely naughty.”

  I just shook my head.

  After seeing Santa, we followed others toward a rear door.

  “Don’t forget Curly,” Mrs. Claus called out. She pointed to the far-left corner of the room and the stout mechanical elf who had, of course, curly hair, and we collected our beads and strung them on our necklaces outside.

  As the afternoon waned, we made our way through the amusement park, patting real reindeer and riding the Kringle Kaper, which barely provided barely enough thrills for a toddler.

  After eating a homemade cinnamon sugar cookie that we decorated with frosting and colored sprinkles, we strolled through the snowflake forest, aptly named for the crystal flakes dangling around us. While a little girl chirped Up on the Housetop through the speakers, we kept to the crushed stone path winding through the light woods. At the end of the forest, we walked through an arched tunnel with real, manmade snowflakes drifting down from above. A sharp contrast to the hot evening we’d been sharing, a light dusting soon coated Eli’s shoulders, his hair, and his incredibly long eyelashes. It reminded me of confectionary sugar and made him look completely lickable.

  At the end of the tunnel, I stopped to savor the last bit of chilly air and we laughed while we brushe
d each other off. The flakes melted, drizzling down my face.

  “Oh, oh,” Eli said with mischief lightening his voice.

  I glanced up at him and smirked. “Shouldn’t that be ho-ho-ho instead?”

  “No, it’s a definite oh-oh, mistletoe.” He pointed up. “I’ll have you know that Mrs. Claus broke my poor old twelve-year-old heart when she told me Santa brought her here for a kiss at the end of each day.”

  “You know they’re probably not a couple in real life.”

  “Somehow, I found a way to keep going after she shared that news.” His voice deepened. “Before you crush me further, I believe it’s time for a little education, don’t you?”

  Heat swirled in my belly. “Mistletoe education?”

  “There’s a legend about the plant.”

  I’d just heard about the kissing, which I was eager to explore. His lips were so close. I just needed to stand on tiptoe while he lowered his head and—

  “Remember Balder and the Goddess Frigga?”

  Blinking, I dropped back onto my heels. “Can’t say I do.”

  “Frigga, the Goddess of Love, was worried about her son, Balder, the God of the Summer Sun.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly. “What does that have to do with mistletoe?”

  “Hang in there, I’m getting to the good part.” He swallowed, and his gaze seemed to focus on my lips, which tingled. “Frigga knew that if something happened to her son, the Earth would end, so she went around asking every being and plant to promise not to hurt him. They all agreed. Except she missed one plant—”

  “The mistletoe, of course.”

  “Yup. And Loki, the God of Evil knew it. He made an arrow and placed a sprig of mistletoe on the tip, then tricked Balder’s brother, the God of Winter, into shooting Balder with it. The world instantly became cold. For three days, everyone tried to bring Balder back to life and only Frigga was able to do it with her tears, which turned into white berries on the plant. Since then, the plant is considered blessed and legend says that anyone who stands under the mistletoe will never be harmed and is entitled to a kiss.”

  “Who told you this?”

  He smirked. “Mrs. Claus.”

  “Ah.” I snickered. “Are you suggesting, now that you’ve renewed your acquaintance with the love of your life, you want to wait here just in case she shows up and she and Mr. C. are not truly a couple?”

  “Absolutely not.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “I told you. I’ve moved on.”

  The tingles in my lips spread down my neck to my chest, where my heart thrummed faster.

  “No pressure, Mia,” he said gruffly. “Tell me what you want from me.”

  “Let’s see if we can replace your fantasy of kissing Mrs. Claus with something a hell of a lot better.” I stroked his shoulders and, with my fingers teasing the back of his neck, urged his face near to mine. “What are your thoughts?”

  He stole them all with his kiss. His lips warm on mine, he tugged me closer, pressing my body against his own while his fingers tickled along my spine.

  A soft moan rose from deep inside me as he deepened our kiss, his tongue stroking along my lips until I parted them to let him inside. Our tongues teased as snowflakes fell around us, sparks of chilly moisture on my bare arms and legs.

  Inside, flames licked along my bones, and, when he lifted his head, I gasped out a protest.

  I wanted more.

  “I think the legend is true,” he said softly. “Because I sure feel blessed.”

  I hadn’t thought I could feel warmer, but I did. Standing on tiptoe, I kissed him again quickly. As if I needed to solidify this fragile bond we were forming between us. “I’m feeling blessed too.” There was something about the magic of Christmas, even if it was only August, that made my heart thrill.

  Holding hands, we emerged from the snow tunnel and out into the fading sunshine. Golden beams slanted through the woods behind us, sparkling on the fake snow and making the entire world gleam.

  “So, not to mess up this Disney-inspired fantasy of yours,” I said. “But I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”

  “There are some near the entrance.” He led me to the building. “I’ll run into the men’s room and meet you back here? Then we can find the rest of the elves and complete your necklace.”

  A piece of jewelry I was going to treasure forever because it would remind me of this day.

  I essentially skipped into the women’s room, hyped up from Eli’s kiss and the feeling that he and I were starting something new and wonderful. I didn’t take long, but after finishing, my thirst called to me. Since the women’s room exited in two locations—to the park or the gift shop—I opted to stroll through the items for sale to the entrance. While I could buy a bottle of water, I’d left mine in the Jeep. No reason I couldn’t zip out there and grab it then return to Eli.

  Franklin nodded as I passed him.

  “Be right back,” I said. “Do I need my hands stamped or something? I’m running to our vehicle.”

  “Just keep your wristband and you’re all set,” he said with a smile.

  As Feliz Navidad floated around me, I hummed along and danced to the tune.

  Sing and dance. I chuckled. When was the last time I’d had this much fun?

  Too long.

  I had a feeling my future was going to be filled with more times like today at Christmastown and that Eli would be a big part of my happiness.

  Approaching the Jeep, I scooted around the back since a car in the spot ahead of Eli’s had backed in so close my legs wouldn’t fit.

  Since I’d left my water bottle under the seat, I opened the door and rested my knee on the floor mat while leaning forward to see where I stuck my hand.

  I was straightening, water bottle in hand, when someone came up behind me. Must be Eli, who’d figured out my plan. I reached over the stick shift to grab his water, planning to hand it to him.

  Turning with a smile, I gasped when I took in the man standing in front of me. He wore a ski mask that completely covered all but his eyes, nose, and mouth, making it impossible to identify him.

  “What are you—” Before I could finish the thought, let alone flee, he grabbed me and slapped his sweaty hand over my mouth.

  Struggling to escape his grip, I released a mangled scream.

  He spun me around, pressed me against the hot metal vehicle, and wrapped a cloth around my eyes. I couldn’t see! While I flailed and fought, kicking and punching and screeching, he wound another cloth around my mouth. A third bound my hands behind my back, leaving only my feet free. But I couldn’t see and could barely maintain my balance. Kicking became a challenge, but I was determined not to go down without a fight.

  My breathing ragged, I gagged against the dirty cloth and shrieked around the material.

  Did he really expect to get away with this? We were in a public place. People were everywhere around us.

  Please, someone. Help!

  Yet most were having fun inside Christmastown, not wandering in the parking lot like me. Stupid. I’d been stupid to come here alone.

  He yanked me away from everyone, making me stumble past cars parked in the lot. Heading away from the entrance.

  My sandals tripped me up, snagging on what felt like a curb surrounding a grassy area. I fell against a tree, and he fisted the back of my shirt, holding me upright.

  “Go.” His voice, gruff and scratchy, did not reveal his identity.

  While he was masked, nothing about his build or voice suggested I knew him.

  “Where are you taking me?” I mumbled around the cloth, unable to hold back the panic rising inside me. “Why are you doing this?”

  He jabbed my backside, making my breath wheeze out fast. “Shut up.”

  Whimpering, I kept moving forward.

  Eli would be waiting, worried about why I was taking so long. If I was lucky, he’d figure out where I was and come running.

  Not much chance of that.

  I needed to find a way o
ut of this all on my own.

  The crunch of gravel underneath my sandals told me we were moving through the dirt area of the lot we’d driven through to reach the paved section when we arrived. The lot was huge. If he took me too far, no one would hear my cries. Rushing forward, I made a break for it. With my head tipped back, I could sort of see. A black car loomed ahead of me, and I slammed into it, knocking the wind from my lungs. I crumpled across the back.

  Groaning, I flailed on the overheated vehicle, hot metal burning my skin. My belly ached, and my lungs had forgotten how to suck in air.

  The car cheeped as it was unlocked, and a click sounded beneath me.

  Shit.

  While horror rippled across my skin, the man grabbed the back of my shirt and hauled me onto my feet. Something creaked, like a door opening. “Get in.”

  “What? I can’t see where I am, what’s going on.” What was he doing to me? Sobs filled my throat, but I choked them back with a deep swallow.

  With a grunt, he lifted me off my feet and tossed me inside a hot compartment. I cried out when my arms and legs abraded on a rubber surface.

  The trunk.

  Before I could scramble toward the opening, the cover slammed closed, leaving me alone in dark, humid silence.

  “Hey,” I mumble-yelled around the cloth. “Don’t do this! Please!”

  I had to get out before he drove away. Flint had drilled into me that once someone took a kidnapped woman from the original area, her odds of escaping diminished considerably. But my hands were tied behind my back and I wore a blindfold. Only my feet were free.

  How was I going to escape?

  I scrambled with the knot pinning my wrists together, tugging and straining.

  It wasn’t loosening. The sound of my heartbeat thrashed in my ears.

  Footsteps crunched on the gravel, traveling away.

  I carefully picked at the binding around my wrists, but he’d tied it too tight. Sweat pooled on my forehead and trickled down my face. My fingers grew slick.

  He opened a car door and the vehicle shifted when he settled inside. The door banged closed.

  Wracked with full-body trembles, tears saturated the cloth wrapped around my face. The vehicle started and the man slammed the transmission into gear. While I whimpered, the car surged forward, chucking me off balance.