The Santas Who Stole Me (Stolen #1)

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

KEEPER

The door opens behind me, but I stay behind the scope right as the councilman crashes to the ground. “Calum, you didn’t have to come up here. Honestly, Christmas is weeks away, we have plenty of time for a family photo,” I grumble, watching the scene unfold ten floors below me.

“Not me, brother. I’m not there yet. Stopped for a hot chocolate,” he says in my earpiece, and I whip around, grabbing the pistol from the back of my pants.

No one should be up here. The building was evacuated due to a fake gas smell we put in place. Staring down the barrel I see her, chest heaving, and her black hair whipping in the wind like a tornado.

Ocean-blue eyes take me in before cutting to my rifle set up on the ledge. She takes in the scene and my guns, and she scans the roof for an exit. There isn’t one. Shuffling backward to the door before turning her attention back to me, her hand releases from the door handle like she realizes that’s not an option.

“The FBI are coming. They are following me. I need to hide.” She shifts again and looks nervous glancing back at the door.

“FBI? How many?” I ask, my voice grittier than normal.

“One, but maybe two.” Her feet carry her to me, and I don’t know what bothers me more: That she’s not afraid of me or that she’s more afraid of who might come from the other side.

The guys are screaming in my ear; Zeke is trying to interpret FBI coordinates from Lee, and Calum is telling me to get out of there and that he’s running this way. I look back at her. She’s goddamn breathtaking. The candy cane dress that outlines the shape of her tiny figure flutters in the wind, giving me a better view of the peachy legs that disappear into combat boots. I lower my pistol with my gaze, and she slowly crosses the roof to the corner I’m in. The air blows again, causing her dress to rise, and because I’m a complete idiot, I put my gun in the back of my pants.

She leans over the edge next to me and my arm instinctively swipes out to make her step back. She’s too close and skittish for my liking. Like a scared little kitten not sure what to do now that she’s backed into a corner.

“Get eyes on the door,” I tell the guys and move to take my rifle apart in record time, slamming the case shut. I grab my lanyard and throw it over my head and pull out the Santa bag. “Get in here, someone’s coming up the stairs. It’s just one guy, but I’m not getting on the FBI radar unless absolutely necessary.” I hold open the bag and gesture for her to get in. She’s small enough I can bundle her up to hide.

She looks at me then back at the door and steps in once she realizes this is her only choice. Her hand brushes mine and warmth spreads up my arm. She pauses for a second; she felt it too. Blue eyes glance back at me, terrified and glassy like a deer in headlights, and I fight the unnerving urge to wrap my arms around her. When she’s curled up at the bottom of the bag, I tie a knot at the top, and just as I do the door bursts open, hitting the roof’s edge. I turn and fake surprise as the rattle echoes around the crunching sound from under his combat boots.

The guy has short black hair and brown eyes, standing a few inches shorter than my 6’5” height. He’s leaner than me and carries himself like he’s military. Maybe police force. He surveys the roof before facing me. “You see a girl up here? Dark hair, dress, and boots?” His tone is authoritative and arrogant.

I consider my options and tune out the guys’ voices in my ear. I could shoot him, hand her over, or shoot them both? My palm itches to grab my gun and put a bullet in his head, but the guys are on scene. Calum says he’s close. It’s too risky. One dead body on the street is flashy enough, I can’t kill this guy. Technically I can , but I won’t yet. I don’t think I want to kill the girl in the bag, so I take a play from Calum’s book and grab my tag. “Naw Bruh, I just came up here to get a shot for my insta. I have a big following and a blog about local events. Want to see?” I ask him while holding up the fake press pass badge and a camera I’ve never turned on.

A while back Calum had my rifle box made to look like a travel camera case. He threw the camera and badge inside a Santa bag for this job, which was clever, I’ll admit. Never to him. My brother is already an arrogant asshole.

The guy in boots walks my way, and I instinctively put my foot in front of the bag. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on, but he’s not getting my little kitten. Stepping up to me with his chest puffed out, he attempts to intimidate me, and I fight the urge to pull out my gun again. He has an air about him like he’s untouchable, and I’m simply an inconvenience to be speaking with.

The door crashes open again, and the metal scrape on the concrete interrupts the silence. Calum sees that I’m alright and flashes a grin. His frame fills the doorway before he strolls over. We’re similar in build, but he’s shorter and covered in ink hidden by the Santa suit and beard. “Yo, just came for the selfie. You’re right, Bruh, this is a sick place for an insta picture. Can you snap one for us?” Calum asks the guy and holds out his phone.

He glances at it, looks around once more, and bolts out the door, satisfied he didn’t see my girl. We stay quiet hoping he puts distance between us while waiting for an update from Zee.

“He’s out headed to the finish line, doesn’t seem to care about the councilman shit going on. What is he looking for?” Zee asks.

“The girl.”

“Am I tailing him?”

I consider Zee’s question. That would be the smart thing to do, but something below me shifts, and I realize I have a bigger concern. “No, get a picture of his face, we will get Lee on it. Let’s head home. Zee, bring the car around back to the alley.”

Calum looks at me and at the bag as I hoist it up over my shoulder.

“Finally bagged a girl, Keep? Too bad you’ll have to kill her now.” He laughs at his joke. Then silence meets his lips when he looks up at my face and realizes I’m not going to kill her.

We don’t leave loose ends. As much as we try to avoid it, sometimes we have no choice but to eliminate them. This isn’t how I’ve trained to do this job, and the look on Calum’s face lets me know he’s surprised by my actions.

“Keep, we need to get rid of her.”

At the sound of that my little kitten starts hitting and kicking me through the bag and screaming.

Thankfully today was leg day and my arms had a break because they are burning now. I keep a tight hold of the bag which is tough considering how squirmy she is. Flashes of other ways to make her squirm run through my mind, but they quickly vanish when she gets in a kick to my kidneys. “Stop it, little kitten, or I’ll throw you off this roof, bag and all.”

She stills, surprising me with her obedience. It doesn’t last though, as she starts screaming, begging me to get her guitar at the bottom of the building. I tilt my chin at Calum as we make our way down the stairs.

“Fuck’s sake, Keeper, are we taking requests from captives now?”

“Not sure. We don’t take captives.” Our services include death and coverage from that. We don’t get information from people, only ending them.

“Please let me have my guitar, I’ll just take it and go,” she shouts.

I nod to Calum at her pleas, and he huffs but runs ahead in search of it.

“Hush until we get to the car, kitten. I mean it, I’ll drop you down these stairs and break your pretty little neck.” I really don’t want to. I don’t think I will. Her presence has made me more indecisive than before, and she doesn’t need to know that is an empty threat.

“You’re an asshole,” she shouts but stays still.

Zee pulls up with the car when I walk out of the building, throwing the bag over my shoulder in true Santa fashion. Calum should be proud of me for embracing the holiday season.

“It will be a short ride. I can’t let you up front in the seats, we both know you’ll bolt. You won’t get hurt back here.” I set the bag down in the trunk, shut the door despite her protests, and round the car, sliding in the front seat. “That went well,” I tell the guys with a huge grin and pull off my Santa beard.

Zee gives me his typical impassive stare. Calum curses as we head home, telling me I’m a dumbass, earning a throat punch. A little one. Maybe I do have some of that Christmas spirit after all. We speed away from downtown, my day suddenly becoming much more interesting.