Page 25 of The Santas Who Stole Me

“Can I help you? We aren’t open yet?” Marge says.

“Yes, thanks. I’m looking for a woman, goes by Georgie. Petite, dark hair?”

“You a cop?”

“No, but I want to help her.”

“Then kindly fuck off right out the door,” Marge says in a sugary sweet voice.

“Look, I know she works here. I know what she’s running from, and I can help her. Honestly, I could be the only way she stays alive.”

“She isn’t in danger. Leave her alone.” Marge is lying for me.

She might not know the details, but I came to her because I heard she has connections for the papers and new life I need. I haven’t come up with the courage to ask her yet, which is fine because I don’t have near enough cash yet.

“Listen, I’m her fiancé’s old partner. Here is my card. I know some of what happened to her, and I’ve been trying to find her. I think we could help each other deal with him.”

Before I know it my feet are moving, and I step in the doorway. This could be really stupid, but desperate and smart don’t always go together. “What do you have in mind? I’ll do most anything to get out from under his thumb.”

“Georgie, are you sure this is best? I’m going to call B, he can help,” Marge says.

“No, don’t call him. I’ll figure it out.”

She considers my request, looks at me then the woman and nods approval. “I’ll get you two some coffee. Georgie, shout if you need me. I’ll be in the back. I’ll give you some time,” Marge says, looking at me.

She’s nervous, maybe for me? I should have told her more.

“Georgia? Let’s talk. I’m Anne Fisher, FBI. I know some of what you went through. I can’t imagine how terrible it was. Chad screwed me over, and while it’s nothing compared to what I assume he did to you, we can work together, and we can put him away.”

I doubt that, but I can tell in her voice she believes it’s possible. At this point, I can use all the help I can get. I spent the next hour telling her most everything I know, but I left out the detail about having all the evidence on a drive. I didn’t trust her enough.

Agent Fisher seems too good to be true. I think about the first time we met, but things have changed now. It isn’t just me anymore. I have the guys to think about.

Zeke left me to shower and brought me a bag of clothes and girl stuff, including makeup. They want me to stay and, holy cow, last night was like nothing I have ever imagined. It’s weird they all like me. I should be scared; I should have left when I could, but who am I kidding? When Zeke kissed me like that, it was epic. I’m sure one day I will look back and add this to the list of Bad Decisions Georgia made. At least this time it comes without being alone.

They make me feel things I’ve never felt before.

Keeper makes me feel protected, Calum makes me feel like a badass sex goddess, and Zeke makes me all gooey inside. He’s cold and deadly, but not to me. I know they all have issues, but I do too. Hello darkness, you are really not my old friend. Maybe that’s why I’m not worried that I’m sleeping with a bunch of hitmen. Or because literally nothing is worse than Chad, and my senses are dead.

I touch my lips as I remember the way Zeke felt against me. As good as the sex was—alright it was fanfreakingtastic—Chad is standing in the way of my happiness again. I’m starting to feel like maybe this won’t end in complete tragedy. I’m keeping secrets, but I’ll figure out a way to keep the guys out of it. No matter what, they let me in, and I won’t let them down. I need a plan. Better than the last one, since that led Chad to me. I put on my eyeliner and wing the tips. I realize I need Marge’s help to come up with a plan. I need the burner I hid that Agent Fisher gave me. It’s in the break room. I’m going to have to get the guys to take me there. Silently pumping myself up for this next conversation, I put on a perfect shade of pale pink lipstick and slip on my shoes.

They said I wasn’t a prisoner, but we’ll see.

Chapter Nineteen

KEEPER

Footsteps sound down the hallway, and all three of us swing our heads in search of her. She walks up to the office doors that are cracked open and pokes her head in with a smile. Georgia looks different, and not because of the sexy dark shadow on her eyes and painted lips. With or without makeup she is fucking beautiful, but something about her standing before us is different. She isn’t scared or shifting like she was when I first met her. Is my little kitten feeling braver?

I think Calum has made her feel stronger. I wish that didn’t piss me off so much, but it does. I want to be the one to make her feel safe, remind her she’s untouchable. Calum walks to her and whispers dirty things about how good she looks before kissing her on the cheek and sitting back down to go over the paperwork. Zeke grins, scanning her body, and without saying anything has her blushing.

“Do you need something, Georgie?” My tone is rough. I’m jealous as fuck.

“Uh, well, I was thinking. I need to go to the diner and talk with Marge.”

“Why?” Calum asks without looking up from his work.

“I need to talk with her about a plan to find Chad.”