My Secret Santa Clayton (Silver Ridge Christmas)

24. Clay

TWENTY-FOUR

Clay

Grace finished telling the sheriff all that had happened…and all I could do was sit there, my hands clenched into fists under the table.

Grace's voice was calm, steady, but I could tell each word cost her something. She finished recounting the horrors Sheriff Callahan needed to hear, and an icy fear gripped me.

Murders. Threats.

The story had layers I hadn't even suspected.

“Grace, why didn't you tell me?” I asked as the three of us sat down at the diner afterward—me, Grace, and Mariah. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, rougher than usual.

She looked at me, eyes sparkling. “I thought I could handle it,” she said.

It was sunny out, but it felt like anything but. Christmas was in full swing outside, and this…it was totally at odds with what I was seeing.

Mariah's tears fell silently as she listened to Grace. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her sadness clear.

“Grace, we're sisters,” Mariah said, her voice breaking. “You should have told me. I could have been there for you.”

Grace reached across the table, taking Mariah's hand. “I'm sorry, Mariah,” she said. “I should've told you everything; I should've let you in.”

Mariah's fingers tightened around Grace's, her smile weak but present. “I get it, you were scared.”

I leaned back against the booth, my eyes on Grace. Her hand trembled slightly as she pulled her hand from Mariah’s, touched the napkin, then smoothed it out again. She took a breath and met my gaze.

“I've made a decision,” Grace announced, her focus shifting from my face to Mariah's and back again. “I'm going to drop the story. It's not worth risking our safety anymore.”

Mariah's expression changed in an instant. Her eyes grew wide, and the relief that swept over her was clear as day. She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Really, Grace? You're sure?” Mariah asked, her hands finding Grace’s across the table.

Grace nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes, I'm sure.”

My chest tightened, the air in the diner feeling suddenly too warm, too still. All this time, I'd half expected her to charge ahead with that stubborn streak of hers. But she was letting go.

“Good,” I said. The word came out more gruff than I intended, but there it was. “Mariah needs you safe. Hell, I need you safe.”

She nodded, her face telling a story of its own. Conflict played across her features, the lines around her eyes deeper than usual. I knew this meant a lot to her—and I knew that when she got a hold of the truth, she would be like a dog with a bone until she got it out. She bit her lip, glanced away, and then met my gaze once more.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” she said. “It's not just about me anymore. It's about keeping Mariah safe.” She paused for a moment and then added, “And you, Clay. And Bear and...well, everyone.”

I clenched my jaw as Grace mentioned my safety. A storm of emotions rolled through me, a clash of surprise and vulnerability I hadn't felt in ages. She had pulled me back into her orbit, and I wasn't sure if I could find stable ground.

I should have been the one protecting her, not the other way around.

She was stronger than I’d ever given her credit for…and more loyal, too.

“Thank you, Grace,” Mariah said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you.”

I watched, silent, my hands clasped on the table, watching them. It felt strange, being on the outside looking in at such an intimate moment. The scene before me was picture-perfect, the kind of thing you'd see in one of those feel-good family movies. And that's what got to me the most. It was perfect.

Too perfect.

“Grace,” I started, my voice betraying nothing of the unease twisting inside me. “You think this is the right move?”

She looked at me, her brown eyes clear and steady. “Yes, Clay,” she replied. “For Mariah, for all of us.”

“Alright,” I said, trying to sound as convinced as she did. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. This kind of peace, this resolution, it didn't come easy or without a cost.

And in a town like ours, where shadows clung a little too tightly, a happy ending was never guaranteed.