Christmas Hostage (Christmas Romantic Suspense Book 1)

by Jane Blythe

  No.

  She had to bear it.

  She couldn’t give up. She couldn’t let him kill her because that would kill Tom.

  “Wh-what do you w-want, J-Jeff?”

  “You. I want you. I love you, Hannah.”

  He didn't love her. If he loved her, he would never hurt her. He was obsessed with her. That was a completely different thing. A terrifying thing.

  “Th-then let me go. Please. You know I hate guns.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Hannah. I just need to make sure you understand. I love you. I love you so much.”

  One of his hands held the gun to her temple, and the other he had on her shoulder, keeping her pinned against his chest. But he let it drop down to the hem of her shirt—beneath which she was completely naked—and slowly lifted it.

  His hand splayed on her stomach. Hannah wanted to squirm away from him, but she was afraid to move. There was a chance she could talk her way out of this, but not if she made him angry.

  “You’re so beautiful.” His hot breath was repugnant against her ear. When Tom called her beautiful, it made her feel like a goddess. When Jeff said it, it made her want to curl up in a ball and die.

  His hand moved up her stomach to cover her breast. His hand was rough against her skin, and he squeezed her injured breast, making her suck in a pained breath.

  “I can make you happy. So happy. If only you’d let me.”

  He was insane.

  Jeff really and truly thought not only that he loved her but that she could love him back.

  His hand left her breast, and she let out a sigh of relief.

  Her relief wasn't long lived.

  His hand didn't leave her body.

  Instead, it dipped between her legs.

  She couldn’t go through this again.

  She couldn’t.

  Her entire body clenched and she whimpered.

  Her mews of distress must have upset Jeff, because he withdrew his hand. “I love you, Hannah. If you just give me a chance, I can show you. I can make you happy. I want to make you happy, and I want to be with you, always. Forever.”

  * * * * *

  7:11 A.M.

  Tom was cold.

  The feeling ripped him out of sleep.

  Hannah was gone.

  He rolled over and stretched, the kind of long contented stretch that a cat gave. Last night had been amazing. He knew Hannah had been afraid that she couldn’t cope with sex after her assault, but once she let go of that fear, it had been just like old times.

  Then afterward, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Hannah had slept peacefully through the night. When he’d awakened at six, hot, he’d found her draped across him. The feel of her body lying on his was something he could never get enough of, and being completely content, he had gone straight back to sleep.

  Hannah must have woken up shortly after and decided to get up. If he knew her, and he did, she probably went to make breakfast. Maybe once they’d had breakfast he could convince her to come back to bed with him, although knowing Hannah, she was probably going to want to finish decorating the house for Christmas. He couldn’t help but smile, and he couldn’t wait to celebrate another Christmas with her.

  She must have put on his shirt, because it wasn't on the floor where he’d tossed it last night. For some reason, she liked wearing his clothes around the house. Pulling on his pants, he padded down the hall, anxious to find Hannah. He didn't like not having her in his line of sight. The last few days had taken a toll on both of them, and it would take them both a while to recover.

  At the top of the steps, he froze.

  Jeff Shields was standing in the hall, holding a gun to Hannah’s head.

  His anger flared at the sight of the woman he loved in danger once again, but he took his anger and stowed it, it wasn't going to be productive right now.

  Yesterday, he’d put his gun in one of Hannah’s spare bedrooms. He hadn’t wanted the sight of it to upset her, but he’d wanted to keep it close by. Why? He hadn’t been sure. Intuition, maybe. Whatever the reason, he didn't have time to analyze it.

  Grabbing his weapon, he placed a quick call to Chloe. His partner answered on the second ring. “Hostage situation at Hannah’s house. It wasn't Charles Zimmerman; it was Jeff Shields. He has a gun on Hannah.”

  Not bothering to waste time listening to Chloe’s reply, he hung up and headed back to the stairs. Jeff and Hannah’s backs were toward him, so they didn't see him quietly make his way down the steps.

  Jeff was whispering in Hannah’s ear. “I love you, Hannah. If you just give me a chance, I can show you. I can make you happy, and I want to make you happy. I want to be with you, always. Forever.”

  “Let her go, Jeff,” Tom said.

  The older man spun around, bringing Hannah with him, his gun never dipping from where it was shoved against her temple.

  Hannah’s eyes met his, panicked and full of fear, but also full of trust. She believed that he would get her out of this alive.

  He prayed her trust was well-founded.

  “I love her.” Jeff’s brown eyes were fierce.

  “Then let her go; you know she’s afraid of guns.”

  “Because of you,” the man spat. The arm he held across Hannah’s chest tightened, and her eyes bulged as it pressed against her neck, hampering her ability to breathe. “You let her get hurt. Then you just threw her away. I want to take care of her. I want to make her happy. I want her to know that I love her.”

  He kept his gaze fixed firmly on Jeff. If he looked at Hannah, saw the fear on her face, he would feed off that fear, and that would prevent him from doing his job. “I love Hannah, too. I don’t want to see her hurt or scared.”

  “You don’t love her,” Jeff growled. “You. Don’t. Love. Her.”

  Hannah cried out as he ground the gun into her temple. She was forced to stand on her tippy-toes, her hands clawing at Jeff’s arm, so she could breathe. She was shaking; he guessed from a mixture of cold and shock.

  “You lost someone,” Tom went with his hunch because it was the only thing he could think of to keep Jeff talking until help arrived.

  Jeff froze.

  Shock filled his face.

  The gun wavered for a moment, and Tom thought he was going to lower it, but then Jeff rammed it into Hannah’s head, making her cry out again. “How did you know that?” Jeff demanded.

  “Who was she?” He’d started down this road, and he had no choice but to follow it through and continue to trust his gut.

  “She is none of your business.”

  “You cared about her. You loved her. You want to save Hannah because you love her, too. Hannah reminds you of her. Did someone hurt her?”

  “I'm not talking about her. I'm here for Hannah. You didn't want her. You threw her away, but I was there. I helped her. I supported her. When she needed someone, I was there.”

  “And I'm sure she appreciated it. I'm sure it meant a lot to her to have someone like you in her life.”

  “If you hadn’t come back, she would have been mine. You ruined everything.”

  Tom was starting to wonder if Jeff’s end game was killing him and then abducting Hannah, taking her someplace and trying to make her reciprocate his feelings. When that didn't happen, Jeff would kill Hannah, too. He prayed help arrived soon. He was going to have to push harder and hope that he didn't go too far. “Was she raped, Jeff? The woman you loved?”

  Jeff began to vibrate with emotion. His eyes grew moist. “Penny.”

  “Did someone hurt Penny?” He gentled his voice. Jeff already didn't like him, and he didn't want to give the older man another reason to shoot him.

  “She was walking home from school. He grabbed her. Dragged her into an alley. Assaulted her.”

  “How old was she?”

  “Sixteen. Only sixteen.”

  “She was your girlfriend?”

  Jeff nodded.

  “What happened to her?”

  “Suici
de,” the man mumbled.

  He would never have thought that an-almost-four-decade-old crime could have had such long lasting and far reaching consequences. “I'm sorry.”

  It didn't appear that Jeff heard him. The older man was lost in thought. “I walked away from her. I turned my back on her. I was sixteen and scared. I didn't know how to help a girl deal with rape. I was just a kid. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. She would cry. She was so lost. I broke up with her. When she needed someone the most, I wasn't there. She overdosed on her anti-depressants a month after I dumped her.”

  “Penny’s suicide wasn't your fault, Jeff. Trauma like that messes with your head. It makes you see things—the world and yourself—differently.”

  “Not Hannah,” Jeff protested. “She survived. Her assault made her grow stronger.”

  Tom couldn’t argue with that. Hannah was amazing. Jeff had taken his misplaced guilt over his teenage girlfriend’s suicide and put it on Hannah. She was what he believed that Penny should have been—strong and independent, accepting what had happened and working on overcoming it. He had both admired Hannah’s strength but also seen it as an obstacle to overcome in getting to her. He had needed to break Hannah to get her to come to him. Only that would never happen. Hannah was unbreakable. She would never love Jeff. She would never give him what he wanted.

  “I wasn't there for Penny, but I’ve been here for Hannah. I’ve admired her strength, and I want to make her stronger by loving her. I would never throw her away like you did. I won't ever turn my back on her. I won't ever let her go.”

  Tom believed that.

  He was going to have to make his move, or this was not going to end well. Although he wanted to wait for Chloe and backup to arrive, he didn't think he was going to have that much time. He wasn't a trained hostage negotiator, but he knew the basics—active listening, empathy, rapport, influence, change behavior. He just didn't think they were going to work in this situation. In Jeff’s mind, Tom was the problem. He was the obstacle to getting what he wanted; it was personal. Jeff hated him for hurting Hannah by walking away and for coming back into her life and getting between him and Hannah.

  Hannah was still on her tippy-toes and her legs were beginning to tremble from being forced to remain in that position, but if she didn't, then Jeff’s arm would be crushing her throat and preventing her from breathing. She was wearing out. Right now, Jeff’s attention was focused on him, but when Hannah’s legs gave out, she would draw his attention back to her. Tom wanted to keep Jeff’s focus. As long as he did, Hannah was marginally safer. If he could get Jeff angry enough to fire a shot at him, then Hannah could get free and get to safety.

  “I believe that you love Hannah, Jeff. I believe that everything that you’ve done is because you wanted to show her just how much you loved her. But this isn’t the way. Scaring her and paying people to hurt her doesn’t show her your love. When you love someone, you have to set aside your own needs and wants and desires to do what's best for them. And what’s best for Hannah right now is for you to let her go. She understands that you love her. You don’t need to hold a gun to her head and scare her anymore. Let her go. Show her how much you love her. Show her that you want to put her before yourself.”

  * * * * *

  7:29 A.M.

  “Are you questioning my love for Hannah?” Jeff’s anger exploded.

  His grip on her tightened once again, and he ground his gun harder into her temple. Hannah tried not to cry out because she knew it would distract Tom, and she didn't want to do that. Her life was in his hands, and she trusted him to get her out of this alive.

  She was trying to do her part. She kept herself balanced on her tiptoes, but her legs were beginning to shake. She was using her grip on Jeff’s forearm to help steady herself. She was shivering, and cold air was seeping up under the shirt she wore, curling around her naked flesh and reminding her of the feel of Jeff’s hand on her skin. At least he hadn’t done anything more than touch her breast and move his hand between her legs. When he’d realized he was upsetting her, he’d stopped before he put anything inside her.

  Her mind wanted to keep throwing her back into the past, but this wasn't three years ago. She and Tom weren’t helpless at the hands of six evil men who had come to their home with the sole purpose of torturing and killing them.

  This was Jeff.

  And whether she had seen who he truly was or not, she knew him.

  Right now, Tom was making him so angry. Pushing him by making him recount the story of his teenage girlfriend who had been raped and committed suicide. Hannah had had no idea that Jeff had been through that. She wished he’d told her. She might have been able to give him some insight into some of the things that might have been going through Penny’s head. Particularly, since Jeff had broken up with Penny shortly following her assault, and she and Tom had gotten divorced shortly after hers. That was obviously the reason he had developed this obsession with her.

  She was afraid that if Tom kept antagonizing Jeff, then Jeff was going to shoot him. She was even more afraid that that was exactly what Tom was hoping would happen. That if he kept Jeff’s focus and got him angry enough to fire off a shot at him then the gun would no longer be at her head, and she might be able to get away.

  But she had no intention of letting that happen. She didn't want Tom to sacrifice himself for her, and she didn't want to risk him being hurt. He had had time to get his gun, so she assumed that he had also called for help, but they had no idea when that help would arrive, and Jeff was growing more agitated by the second.

  The two men continued to talk, but she had tuned out their words. All her energy was focused on keeping herself balanced and trying to figure out a way where all three of them walked out of this alive. And if that couldn’t happen, then at least she and Tom walked out of this alive. She didn't want Jeff to die, but she had obviously never really known him, and he wasn't the man that she thought he was. If killing him was the only way she and Tom survived, then she would be okay with that.

  Tom obviously said something that angered Jeff again because he squeezed her so tightly she couldn’t stop an agonized cry from escaping her lips. The gun was pressed so tightly against her head that she could feel it cutting into her flesh. A small trickle of blood dribbled down her face.

  Blood.

  That gave her an idea.

  Jeff was injured. He had gotten himself shot in the robbery, and she assumed it was because he wanted her to see him as the hero who came running in to save her when the robbers threatened to shoot her. From the way he squeezed her, the wound didn't appear to be giving him too much trouble but it still had to be causing him pain.

  Maybe she could take advantage of that.

  If she waited until the gun dropped a little, then she could gouge her hand into the wound, which might be enough to make him let her go. Her hands were already wrapped around his left arm, using it for leverage to keep enough space between it and her neck so that she could breathe. His right hand held the gun at her head, and the distance between her hands and his injured right shoulder wasn't far. She thought she could make it.

  It would be risky, though.

  If she mistimed it, he could shoot her.

  Kill her.

  But she was going to have to take that risk. What other choices did she have? She could do nothing and let Jeff shoot both her and Tom. Or just Tom. And she was pretty sure that if Jeff killed or seriously wounded Tom, he would drag her out of here and away somewhere where he thought he could keep her and make her fall in love with him. That was never going to happen, and sooner or later Jeff would realize that and kill her, too.

  She had to do this.

  It might be the only way. Hannah didn't think that Tom could talk Jeff into releasing them and giving himself up.

  “Cops are going to be here any minute, Jeff,” Tom was saying. “You made a mistake with Penny by putting your needs ahead of hers. Don’t make the same mistake with Hannah.”


  “Everything I've done has been for her,” Jeff screamed in her ear. “I tried to help her, to make her see that having someone there for her wasn't a bad thing. It’s you. You failed her. I saved her.”

  “You hurt her. You’re hurting her right now. Don’t make this worse, Jeff. Please. If you love Hannah as much as you say you do, then let her go. Do the right thing, prove that love.”

  “Prove my love? I’ve proved it over and over and over again,” Jeff raged. As he spoke, the gun moved away from her head. Not a lot, but it was no longer pressed against her temple.

  This was it.

  It was now or never.

  She might not get another chance.

  She had to make her move.

  She was only going to have one shot at this.

  If she missed her target, then both she and Tom could wind up dead.

  Before she could overthink things and talk herself out of it, Hannah darted her hand toward Jeff’s wound. She connected and dug her fingers in.

  Jeff howled and released her.

  She spun out of his grip.

  He whirled on her.

  His gun was pointed directly at her.

  His brown eyes, which at one time she had considered to be those of a friend she trusted and cared about, were now wild with fury and doused in obsession.

  He would rather kill her than let her go.

  Hannah could see it in his face.

  He was going to fire.

  She could see it in his eyes.

  Hannah braced herself for the onslaught of pain that would come when the bullet hit her.

  She readied herself to die.

  Mentally, she said her goodbyes to Tom and thanked him for giving her one last joyful, special, magical night.

  The gun went off.

  The sound seemed amplified inside her head.

  Blood splattered everywhere.

  Jeff fell.

  Tom grabbed her hand, yanking her hard up against his chest.