Page 30 of The Santas Who Stole Me

She is too smart for her own good.

“I can’t tell you everything about them. It’s complicated.” She squeezes my hand in reassurance not asking me to explain further. My eyes drop to the burner phone, and I place it in my lap. Nerves vibrate through me, and I exhale to try to calm them.

“Remember when the agent lady came?”

“Yes, but listen, Georgie, you can’t count on the feds. Let me help you. I have some connections.”

“Connections to help me run or to get rid of Chad for good? I can’t be the reason they get involved with someone that could tie them to trouble. Do you know what I mean? You either, for that matter. I don’t want anyone hurt over me.” My voice wavers a little bit.

Marge pulls me in for a hug, and I lay my head on her shoulder. Everything has happened so fast; I haven’t had a minute to settle. From the second Keeper saw me things have seemed better, but I know they aren’t with Chad looming in the background of my happiness. He leaves me alone just enough to think I’ve escaped, to think I can move on, but then, bam, the fucker pops back up like a freaking whack-a-mole. No more.

“I can help you disappear. I know someone who does that. It isn’t cheap, but I can pay for it. But fuck, Georgie, I don’t want you to go like that.” Marge sounds genuinely sad at the thought of me leaving, and that makes me love her even more.

“I know. It’s why I came here in the first place. I heard a rumor you knew someone who could help. I was trying to save my money, but then we became friends, and I didn’t want you to think it was only because I needed your connections.”

Marge pulls me back from her hug to look at my face. My eyes are teary because she’s my friend. We bake and watch TV and gossip. I’ve missed this. I hope my truth about what I need from her doesn’t change that.

“Are you mad?” I whisper.

“Of course not. I know you, Georgia. You don’t take advantage of people; you are my best friend. Shit, I’ve had B searching for you. I was about to call in a really big favor when someone answered your phone. I was getting someone to look into the connection, but it’s been a dead end.” She squeezes my hand.

“Wait, what? Who answered my phone? When?”

“Some guy; he yelled at me. Asked me what I knew about you.”

I’m going to kill Keeper. This must have been when he found the texts. “Sorry, the guys can be a bit intense.”

“Guys, the brothers too?”

My face is bright red.

“We are so off topic but here it is. Keeper, his brother, Calum, and their friend, Zeke. They all live together, and I guess we are kind of dating. Well, they might not consider it dating. Do they?” My explanation comes out as more of a question, and Marge’s face splits in half.

“As in, all of them? Oh my gods!” she shrieks and starts bouncing up and down.

Shuffling sounds at the door and B pops his head in. “You okay back here?” His face searches Marge, and his eyes linger on her chest more than I noticed before.

Have they always had this chemistry, or maybe the guys have awakened me enough to know that look? B wants Marge, and I get the sense she feels the same.

“We’re fine,” I huff at him. I’m pissed that he cut Keeper. The rational part of me knows he was protecting us, or trying to, but I don’t care.

“Please don’t be mad, little G. I wasn’t going to do anything unless he did first. And he had a gun.”

B is huge, a little taller than Keeper, and honestly scary as hell. The first time I met him, I almost ran out of the diner when I saw the knife he keeps at his back. But now, he is pouting like a toddler and looking at Marge to help him.

“He was bleeding,” I respond, knowing that’s petty and I’m being overprotective.

B doesn’t say anything else but pleads with Marge with a pouty lip.

“I’ll talk to her, B. We need a few more minutes,” Marge assures him.

He huffs again and turns to leave, and I roll my eyes looking at Marge we both stifle a laugh.

“Alright, we can talk more about all the dirty details in a bit. But what are we going to do about your FBI asshole of an ex?” She blows out a breath.

“I’ve got an idea. I haven’t told anyone this, but I have a file full of proof that Chad is dirty. Like money trails, accounts, I’m not too bad with computers, and I was able to hack his. He’s a cocky asshole who didn’t protect his shit because he thinks he’s untouchable. I’m hoping if I give it to the agent, he can be put away for his crimes, and I won’t have to worry about him.”

Marge purses her lips to the side like she’s thinking about how this might turn out. “It’s risky. What if she doesn’t help you in the end?”