White Christmas - A 6 Book BWWM & BBW Holiday Romance Collection Of Billionaires, Alpha Males, SEALs, Tycoons & More!

by Cherry Kay

  Despite all the cheer, the darkness of the shadows made me nervous. I hated taking the subway. There were so many creeps out at this time of night, and being a female I always hated being alone in the city. But it had to be done. When life hands you no choices, the only way is forward.

  Stopping by the stairwell leading down into the Subway I took a breath and looked over my shoulder. Everything was normal as it looked every night. But the gaping hole in the ground gave off barely any lights except for random flickering of a dying light bulb. This was the one place they should put some god damn Christmas lights.

  As I stepped into the shadows and left the world above behind, a lump grew in my throat. Walls surrounded me leading downwards into that deep abyss. Strange sounds uttered loudly in the darkness causing me to shiver even more.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairway I made my way to the bench sitting against a wall. It looked rather comfy and wasn’t occupied by anyone. So I sat, waiting for the next train to come by. It had to be soon at least…hopefully.

  I gazed in wonder at my isolation. The atmosphere clung to me, dragging me into its dark and frightful clutches.

  Minutes passed by in a serenity of loneliness. No one bothered to say a word, nor give me more than a second glance.

  I boarded the oncoming train and found a quiet seat in the corner. The air smelled musty and used, as if someone had come along and breathed it all in, just to leave me the second helpings. What was I to expect riding the train in the middle of the night? If I could’ve avoided it, I would.

  No one else but a woman, two young men huddled together on the opposite side of the car, and an old man reading a newspaper, were on board with me. The woman lay a few seats down from me looking as if she had shot up way too much that evening. Her head was on her purse and she lay almost sprawled out on the seat.

  Minding my own business, I tucked my purse even closer to my body. I didn’t like the twisted stares the men gave me the few times I shot my gaze in their directions. There was something off about them, yet I couldn’t quite pinpoint what.

  Just as the train groaned to a start, one last passenger hopped on board with his hat and coat almost flying. He carried a rather distinguished briefcase. I had seen it somewhere before. But he immediately turned his face and chose an adjacent seat facing the opposite direction. The seating arrangements were set in squares patterns, making it difficult for me to catch a look at him.

  The glow of his small laptop irritated my view and I decided to flip through my phone. No one spoke a word as we entered the long dark tunnel.

  The ride seemed to take forever, but my mind was blank from exhaustion. I didn’t want to think. I was too tired to.

  It dawned on me that I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. My bladder’s silent protests all of a sudden became extremely apparent. I really wanted to wait till I got home, but as the minutes passed by it began to scream for attention so much that I began to shake my leg.

  How much longer till we arrived at the next station? I checked my watch. Should be any time now.

  Finally we came to a stop and I jolted up immediately, waiting for the familiar slide of the doors and the oncoming platform’s greetings. The discomfort plagued my head until I couldn’t shake it off. God I had to pee…

  As soon as those heavenly double doors opened I jumped out, purse in hand and almost danced towards the direction of the women’s bathroom. It was located down a long dimly lit hallway. The walls were tile and the floor concrete.

  Entering the bathroom I didn’t stop to look where I went, I just hopped in a stall. Dirty or clean at this point I could’ve given two damns.

  Sweet Jesus, the release was probably the most euphoric feeling of my life. No more burning and stabbing, just the peaceful calm of an empty bladder. I could breathe and think now. And despite the fact that I was alone, I smiled to myself.

  My ears tuned in to the creaking of the bathroom door opening. Feet shuffled in but no other sounds remained. All around me was dead silence.

  Flushing the toilet and pulling up my panties, I fastened my skirt and re-tucked my blouse. The toilet was nothing but a loud echo against the walls, and the rickety door of the bathroom stall squeaked loudly.

  As discreetly as possible I felt in my bra for my phone, which managed to be the easiest spot to stick it as of lately. I gritted my teeth. Damn it, I must’ve forgotten it back on the train. How stupid of me.

  I finished up and stepped out of the stall, aiming for the sinks up ahead. Graffiti covered the walls. Some of the art was quite elaborate to look at and well detailed.

  Peeking over my shoulder at the commotion which had drifted to the larger stall next to me, I couldn’t help but notice odd sounds coming from the half open door. It was obvious that more than one person was in there with the whispers going back and forth, but they seemed to have grown considerably quieter as soon as I turned off the water.

  Just as I was about to exit the door, it burst open revealing one of the men I had seen earlier in the train. He stared at me for a second, then leaned heavily against the door and whipped out a small switchblade.

  His voice was rough as he glanced at the large bathroom stall. “Hey Jay, we’ve got ourselves a problem,” he insisted in the direction of the stall behind me.

  The man named Jay walked out, his burly shoulders grazing the opening of the doorway. “No, you’re the one who fucked us up. All you had to do was wait for her to leave, God damn it!” The rage in his voice was imminent.

  I froze, my heart in my throat beating so loudly I could barely hear what they were saying.

  Gripping tighter onto my purse the tall blonde male before me pointed the knife in my direction, speaking in hushed tones. “Drop it,” he said, motioning towards him.

  Hesitating for a moment I stared at him, wondering what exactly I had gotten myself in to.

  “Please,” I begged. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”

  The man behind me broke the silence. “Just do as he fucking said, bitch, and drop the God damn purse.”

  Quickly I did as he said, hearing a stirring noise in the stall behind me.

  A series of clicks presented themselves to my ears and I swung around only to feel large rough hands grasp my shoulders.

  “Chill out, bitch,” the guy behind me muttered, reeking of smoke. His beard brushed my cheek as he made no moves to hide the obvious. Yet I could feel his hands clamping down on me before he whipped out something plastic and pinched my flailing wrists. The material bit into my skin until tears rose from their sleeping pools beneath my skin.

  I turned my neck to tilt my head backwards. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t do this.”

  “Wish I didn’t have to,” he growled, “But sometimes you got to roll with the punches.”

  He shoved me prostrate on the ground as I took in a deep breath. I might’ve hyperventilated from the speed my heart was going and the rate of breathing going through my lungs. There was no hiding my fear. I couldn’t help but wonder what they were going to do to me.

  Beneath the raised walls of the bathroom I saw a girl sprawled on the floor, her clothes shredded into bits. It only took a second for me to recognize the fact that she was the other passenger on the train with us.

  She was still drugged up. Her bare arms showed track marks on such pale skin, her eyes shut as if in a deep sleep. If once upon a time I said girls like that deserved what they got, perhaps this was karma. I was drug into the chaotic mess along with her drugged-up ass.

  “What are you going to do to me,” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. Suddenly I regretted even asking.

  “Let us worry about that and shut the hell up,” the tall blonde one said, glaring at me with blue icy eyes. He had a piercing on his brow and some kind of odd looking gauge in his ears.

  I just turned my head and stared at the sleeping woman. She had to be in her teens, eighteen possibly. She didn’t look that old, but time tells its harsh tales quickly on people like her. I
couldn’t help but think about what she did to get into all of this, or was she also at the wrong place at the wrong time? Things did, however, happen for a reason.

  As the minutes ticked by and they began to busy themselves with the girl, I closed my eyes. A heavy pounding on the door made me jump out of my skin almost immediately. Then silence resumed. Again a few moments passed and then the pounding once again interrupted the silence, causing my assailants to shift uncomfortably.

  The one called Jay wrapped a scarf around his face and pulled out a long hunting knife. It was ridged quite exquisitely. This he held tightly as he backed up besides the door that was now creaking open.

  Everything went down from there. A man with a small handheld firearm crashed the door open, aiming it at Jasper’s scowling face. His precision suggested that it wasn’t the first time he had done this. No one could be too careful living in a city like this.

  “Drop the knife!” The strange male bellowed and stepped completely into the room as the blonde man peered out of the stall. Obviously they weren’t very competent in how to handle overpowering situations.

  Before I could scream, the one behind me had bent down to place the knife at my throat. “Get out of here! This is none of your business,” he put pressure on my neck as I felt the droplet of blood slid its red trail downwards. His fingers curled around my long ponytail, pulling my face up to look at everything.

  I grimaced. I wanted him to let go, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I already called the cops,” the stranger hissed, stepping into the light further to reveal his face.

  That was when I held my breath. It was the stranger on the train whose face had eluded me for quite some time. And as a matter of fact, it was also the young man from the marketing company that wouldn’t hire me. What the hell was he doing here?

  The steel tip dug deeper into my neck until I gasped out loud.

  “You lie,” he insisted as Jay was backing away with his hands in the air. He had already let the blade clang onto the tile floor.

  The stranger kept his cool, smirking at their stupidity. “Wait around and find out, why don’t you?”

  The two men looked at each other for a few seconds debating whether or not to believe him.

  “If I were you,” my cloaked savior eased the conversation a bit further. “I would go before you actually commit something traceable. I’m assuming that you weren’t here just to fuck around.” He waved his gun freely towards them.

  After casting fearful glances towards each other they both inched towards the doorway in submission.

  Jay sneered, “You’ll be seeing us again, pretty boy, but not when your cop friends are around to save your ass.”

  All of this I viewed from an uncomfortable spot on the floor. His shoes were shined and perfect from what I could see. He wore a long trench coat and a hat, which made him feel almost like my personal vigilante.

  “You okay?” He rushed towards me, concern etching his brow. He flipped open a small pocket knife after fishing deep in one of his pockets. Two seconds and my wrists were free as I looked up at him.

  I nodded. “As okay as I will ever be considering I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

  “It’s a drug bust,” he smiled. “I do part time work with the DEA when I have spare time.”

  I wasn’t quite sure whether to believe him or not. Instead I questioned the one thing that had been itching at me. “Did you really call the cops, or were you just bluffing?”

  Hoisting me up, I felt his strong arms lift me almost effortlessly to a standing position. “No,” he murmured, supporting me until I could balance on two feet. “I really did.”

  Narrowing my eyes at him I studied his expression, or the lack thereof. He didn’t give off any readable vibe as to why he was there.

  “Were you following me,” I asked, trying to keep my calm. “I mean come on, how the hell did you know that I needed help?”

  There came no verbal answer. Instead he fished once more in his pocket and pulled out a small cell phone and handed it to me. “You left this on your seat. I figured I’d try to return it in case I needed to call you for that job you wanted. I’m sure you need this.”

  He paced over to the stall with the sleeping girl and stood there a moment. “I’ll call us a cab home,” he suggested, leaning down to scoop her up in his arms. “Poor thing,” his breath blew strands of her hair. “The stupidity of some people is beyond me.”

  I watched him stride out of the bathroom leaving me to stand alone in the shadows. Of course he wanted me to follow him, and I debated doing just the opposite. Something told me he wasn’t being exactly honest with the reasons he gave me, and for that I wanted to find out.

  Picking up my purse I hustled after him. It didn’t take long to catch up. He was making his way towards the stairwell that led to the world above.

  “Don’t we have to go to the cops?” I suggested it because I figured it was the right thing to do. “Maybe we could report this.”

  He shook his head. “No good in doing that. There’s no case.”

  Frowning, I followed him up the stairs. How could this not be a case? “I was tied up for crying out loud, and that girl is completely doped up.”

  He turned mid-step, wheeling around almost irrationally. “This girl will go to jail if we report it. The best thing is to get her home safe and not worry about it. The police will comb the place and find nothing. I saved your ass, so be grateful and quit asking questions.”

  Almost offended, I shut my mouth. He had snapped for no apparent reason, which seemed to suggest that he didn’t like me prying into his business. There was definitely something he wasn’t telling me. But the first thing I collected from his mysterious personage was that…he was just a plain ass.

  The entire cab ride home went smoothly. We didn’t speak a word the whole way there, and I didn’t even dare to ask him any more questions.

  I had gotten out of the cab and oddly enough he walked me to my door. I turned to look into his beautiful mysterious eyes, knowing that they were piercing their way into my soul. I could see why that one other girl was so enamored by him. Just the way he looked at me made my skin crawl with a lust that was purely physical.

  Awkwardly, I crossed my arms as we stood speechless on my porch steps. “Thank you,” I stuttered over myself. “If you hadn’t come…”

  He cut me off. “No need to thank me, really. Have a good day, Miss Green,” he said, almost looking as if he were going to smile. Yet the cold of his gaze remained so as he turned around to head towards the cab.

  I stood there staring towards him, my heart in my throat. This was when I knew I was in trouble.

  Chapter 4

  The following nights my sleep was plagued with fitful dreams. I couldn’t concentrate during work and I found myself daydreaming a lot. Every time a man walked past the store I would look to see if it was him, my dark savior. And each time I was constantly disappointed by the fact that I found him lustfully attractive.

  There were too many odds and ends; the pieces just didn’t quite fit together. The fact that he knew to pull a gun was a completely alarming reality. How did he know I was in trouble unless he was purposefully following me? What if he had been involved somehow and was just a way to bail them out?

  Endless possibilities played themselves over in my head, but at the end of the night I couldn’t get those grey eyes to leave my memory. Never had I met a man that could seem to stare so deep into my soul and yet reveal nothing of his nature. God, he was so attractive and so obviously the wrong choice for me to be falling for. Yet, every girl needs her bad boy at some time in life. I figured that would’ve passed me with my teen years.

  Here I stood in my mid-twenties with fantasies of a man I had barely even met. The dreams were growing heavier by the night until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  To my surprise, before I could act, one night when we were hanging up our Christmas decorations, a knock came to my door.


  My home smelled like cookies freshly baked and little Hope was having her way with the icing tubes. I knew she would make a huge mess, but that was okay. She wouldn’t have any fun unless there was something to clean up.

  Walking to the door in my Christmas apron and slippers, I peered through the peep hole. It was so dark outside and I had forgotten to switch on the Christmas lights. Feeling for the switch I lit them up, hoping I could see whoever it was before I opened the door.

  Grey eyes stared back at me through the viewer and my heart leapt in my throat. I knew those eyes all too well.

  Nervous and excited all at the same time, I threw off the apron I was wearing and took one look in the small mirror next to the door. My hair wasn’t all over the place at least, but I suddenly wished I had dressed up in something a little better to spend the day in.

  Another knock came before I was ready to open the door. Turning the knob I peered through the crack and eyed him with curiosity.

  His hair was slicked back rather stylishly and he wore the usual grey vest and dress button up shirt. His demeanor screamed wealthy from the gold watch he wore to slick dress pants draping over shined leather shoes. God, he was a hunk.

  I swung the door open to fully view the gorgeous man before me, hoping that my ogling wasn’t as obvious as I felt it to be.

  “Miss Green?” he said with question in his tone. He stared inside at Hope who had managed to walk into view all covered in green and red icing. For the first time he smiled. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was one nonetheless. I smiled back at him, glancing at my daughter for a second. “Go back in the kitchen honey,” I said. “And clean yourself up.” Then turning my attention forward I asked, “Mr. Smith I presume?”

  He hadn’t exactly given me his name, but from the luxurious sports car parked in my driveway I took it that he was the business owner of Smith Marketing.

  He raised a brow, crossing his arms. “Acute observation,” he replied. “I don’t ever remember telling you my name.”

  “You didn’t,” I said rather nonchalantly. “Would you like to come in,” I invited, stepping away from the door to give him the right of passage.