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ROBYN
I tiptoe out of my bedroom after slipping some clothes on, thankful that Tucker and I showered together before we fell into a sated sleep after our movie marathon last night. Okay, it was more of a sex marathon, but I don’t think we need to split hairs here.
It means I can go about my Christmas morning tradition without waking him up. It’s not like it’ll take me a long time to go and get the cinnamon rolls from the next town over. The bakery is only open for a few hours first thing on Christmas morning, their own tradition that was in place long before I came around and will keep going long after I leave.
I pause and take in my small apartment which has been the only home I’ve known in such a long time. Am I really thinking about leaving? More than that, have I made my decision?
The last few days have felt like one long goodbye to Mistletoe Creek, even with the threat of those Castillo assholes hanging around. I’ve gone to my favorite places and made sure to speak to the people I’m closest to, which isn’t saying much.
When did I make up my mind to go to Seattle without even realizing it?
I guess it doesn’t matter now considering the only place I want to be is at Tucker’s side and he has a place to belong with the Devil’s Saints MC. My biggest concern is that the rest of the brothers are going to hate me for what I did. I could give them the money back. Well, I could replace it after skimming from some guys who truly are bad.
My gut twists at the thought, my conscience making me wonder if there’s another way for me to help people in Kyla’s memory. Tucker has assured me that he could use my skills to help people. That would be better than stealing and giving money to organizations fighting a losing battle or helping people after they’ve already been traumatized, right?
I shake my head and slide into my large SUV. I don’t drive much, since it’s not really a requirement when I don’t normally go far, but I made sure to get a vehicle big enough for me and my stuff because a moving truck was never going to work for me.
There’s a special glow to the town on Christmas morning with the sky barely peeking over the horizon and hardly a soul in sight. I know the bakery I’m going to will be busy because they always are. That’s why I put in my order for cinnamon rolls two months ago.
Usually, I feel a sense of peace when I’m driving on the small country roads, but today there’s a sense of sadness and a little foreboding. I guess I am saying goodbye. You would think, with all the moving I’ve done, I would be used to putting places in my rearview mirror, but it’s never gotten easier.
Getting to the bakery and picking up the cinnamon rolls doesn’t take me long and I’m back on the road and heading toward home. Well, Tucker. He’s given me a sense of home I’ve been missing for the last ten years, and I know, if given a chance, I’ll feel at home wherever he is.
It’s totally sappy, but I’m okay with it.
I need to figure out a way to tell him I’m ready to leave Mistletoe Creek, but he hasn’t brought up moving to Seattle in a few days. It would worry me if I couldn’t read how much he cares about me in his eyes. He’s been trying to give me the space and time to decide what I want to do, and it’s made me fall deeper in love with him.
I never thought I’d be the kind of person to fall in love quickly, but with Tucker it’s felt natural and easy. Not that he would really accept anything less. If the man knew how much it turns me on when he gets all demanding and growly, he’d be insufferable.
I look in my rearview mirror and notice the same vehicle behind me that was there while I was heading to the bakery. At least, I think it’s the same one. I might be able to be all cloak and dagger online while I’m getting a job done, but I don’t have magical spy powers in the real world.
I narrow my eyes and try to get a glimpse of the driver, but it’s impossible because they’re a little too far back. Add that in with the way the sun is rising and the slightly darker tint they have, and I don’t have a choice other than to stop trying. My heart starts to race as I focus on the road ahead of me and getting back home.
“Damn it, Robyn, you should have left the man a note,” I chastise myself under my breath. “He’s going to be pissed.”
I won’t be able to say shit about him being mad because I realize, with a car following me and no one else on the road, I’ve put myself in a precarious position. Knowing full well about the potential danger. If only I could chalk it up to ignorance, but nope. Just poor choices and not thinking it through.
Which I don’t think is going to curry me any favor with Tucker. I send up a little hope for a Christmas miracle that he’ll still be asleep in my bed when I get back. The sinking feeling in my gut tells me I won’t be that lucky.
As I’m crossing a hidden dirt road, a large truck comes speeding out and barreling right toward me. I scream and swerve, narrowly avoiding hitting them. I slam on my brakes, my eyes closing as I try to calm my racing heart. I put it in park because my entire body is shaking as adrenaline courses through my veins.
Just great! Out in the middle of nowhere and you’re almost t-boned. Merry fucking Christmas.
I take a breath, preparing myself to wave off some pissed off driver and keep heading back to Tuck when my window shatters and an arm reaches in to unlock my door. I scream as the door swings open, and I’m pulled out onto the road.
My body feels weak, and my legs give out which causes me to fall to my knees. My palms sting from the asphalt when I use them to catch myself from falling completely to the ground.
I look up into brown eyes that belong to a man I’ve never seen before glaring at me. He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, the grip he has on me so tight that I know it’s going to leave a bruise. I wince and try to pull away from him, but he only holds me tighter as he starts to drag me toward the truck.
My voice is high and shrill, “Who the fuck are you? What are you doing?” From the way he looks at me, disgust and hate written all over his face, I have a fairly good idea who he is. Well, at least who he works for. Not that I’ll be admitting that to him. “You almost hit me and then you smash in my window and manhandle me?”
He scoffs and I feel a little sheepish because I should have known a damsel in distress act mixed with queen bitch was not going to do the job here. I really wish my computer skills did make me a super spy, now more than ever.
The back door of the truck is being held open by another man as one stands near the front of the vehicle, his eyes scanning the area.
The man holding me captive snarls, “You stole from the wrong fucking people and you’re going to pay for it.” He looks over my body and a scary as fuck smile spreads across his face. “We should get a pretty penny for you.”
My entire body goes cold, and it has nothing to do with the nip in the December morning air. I start to twist and contort my body, trying to get away from him. I think heavy thoughts. I kick out my legs.
