The Santas Who Stole Me (Stolen #1)

Chapter 19

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.”

“You do not, we have a loose plan. Everything will be taken care of.”

The guys grunt in agreement.

“You said I’m not a prisoner. I’m going.” Her hands plant on her hips.

“Going to the diner could place you in harm’s way. He could be watching it, so not gonna happen. We have a job anyway. It will be quick, Calum can handle it by himself, but Zeke is adding a cover. You and I will stay here.”

Georgia glares at me hard enough that Calum clears his throat to break the tension.

I don’t mind it. It’s hot as fuck when my little kitten shows her claws.

“I like it when you protect me, Keeper. I like that you watch over everyone and make me feel safe. I know I’m not as strong as I could be. Shit, I sleep with a light on, but I’m trying to find the girl I was before this.”

I sit up straighter because her words hit me in the gut. It’s all I wanted to do since I first saw her, yet she seems pissed about it right now. “But?”

“I need that from you, but I also need to end this thing with Chad, and to do that, I have to get to the diner. I’m sure Marge is worried about me. She probably called the police.”

I should tell her about that call I picked up, but self-preservation has me silent. I don’t want Georgie mad. I want her to be happy with me, safe, in my house, in my bed. As much as I want to believe her words about wanting us, that was sex talk. I don’t trust it yet.

She pauses.

“And?” I urge her to go on.

“And I was tied down with Chad. He took everything and I’m…”

I try not to smile with pride at the tiny woman standing up to three assassins.

“I’m not doing that again. Marge is my friend and I like working at the diner. It’s the closest to the bakery I’ve gotten in a while. I’m going. We can meet up after your job.” Her chin tilts. She is so adorable.

“Keeper, we can take her on the job, then swing by the diner.” Calum casually throws out that sentence.

“Really? I could come? Maybe I can help.”

And my anger at Calum’s half-assed statement switches to amusement. She wants to come.

“No,” Zee adds without emotion or explanation.

“Would you want to, kitten? It will be a close-contact kill, most likely with a knife.” Her face pales for a second, and she pauses, thinking of her answer. I interrupt her thoughts and stop her before she can reply. No fucking way is she doing a job, ever. “I’ll take you to the diner.” We need to determine who sent that text, and my bet is on Marge.

“Okay.” She beams at me, and Calum winks at her, like he knew she would get what she wanted by mentioning taking her on a job. This fucker.

“You guys good without me?”

Zeke nods, and Calum waves his hand, dismissing me.

“Be safe,” Georgie says, her sweet voice making my jealousy subside.

Do I like that she cares about them too? Fuck, what is she doing to me?

Zeke stands and kisses her forehead before turning to me. “I’ll get eyes on the diner now, let me call Lee. Stay with Keeper, Georgia.” His tone is firm, and she hugs him in response before he heads out, phone pressed to his ear.

Calum stands, throwing down his pen and locking his sight on Georgie. He walks into her and keeps walking, shoving her legs backward with each of his slow steps until they are against the oak bookshelf. Her giggle fills the room, and she is practically beaming. He presses her flat against the wood, and those sparkling eyes slam shut the second his mouth is on hers. My heart twists while my brother touches the girl I want everything from.

“Let’s go, we don’t have all day.” The two ignore me as he continues to assault her with his tongue. Calum grinds his body into her hips once more before letting go.

“Bye,” he tells her, ignoring my groan.

With pink cheeks she brushes her hair back before sliding up next to me and taking my hand. The warmth of her touch immediately calms the pissed off beast that was starting to stir inside me, and when she squeezes my hand, my heart beats faster. It’s gotten easy to want her touch, her calming presence. We walk down the hallway, my feet silent against the plush carpet thanks to years of practice.

Our hands stay linked until I stop at the truck and unlock it with the key fob. Getting the door, I help her in, and she puts her hands on my shoulders and gazes down at me. I lean in for her touch. Her mouth opens for me, and her sweet taste bursts inside mine. We break apart and I give her another quick kiss before buckling her in and shutting the door. I know this is a bad idea, but despite my better judgment we go to the diner like she asked. Zee has a visual on it. We have no indication the feds are watching. Thank fuck for Lee. We couldn’t do any of this shit without her. I’d never admit that though. She’s an asshole like the rest of us and doesn’t need any ego stroking.

The diner doesn’t have a fifties design like I imagined when Georgie described it. It has a modern storefront with large windows framed in black iron. The building is brick with cedar trim and a neon sign with the word ‘diner’ sits on top of the steel roof. There are two entrances: one for the dining side and one for a to-go area of some sort. The shelves look bare.

Georgie moves to get out, but I grab her hand, and her eyes snap to mine. I can’t shake that something is off with her, and she looks guilty and bites her lip.

“Marge might just fire me for being gone. She doesn’t have any bakery items in the window, see?”

That eases my nerves. She’s guilty about not doing her job for her friend. “Does she know about your ex?”

“Some. Not all the details, but she’s smart enough to figure things out.”

I scan the lot again and confirm nothing seems threatening before I unbuckle her and kiss her temple.

“This will be quick,” she assures me. Or herself, I’m not sure.

We walk into the diner lined with black leather booths and tables with metal chairs. A lone customer is eating in the corner. It’s not yet lunch and past breakfast, so perhaps we missed the morning crowd.

I search the room for staff when I feel it, that prickle under my skin that says shit is about to stir up. “Georgia.” My tone is sharp and I shove her behind me, pulling the gun from my back and holding it up. She stumbles with my force. I forget she is so small.

My neck is met with a cold hard blade.

I twist my hand to the side and rotate the gun so the barrel is flush against his forehead.

His feet shuffle forward, but I feel nothing when the knife pierces my skin.

A woman with brown hair pops her head out from behind him, and he growls at her using his free arm to add another obstacle between us.

It’s useless. I could kill them both and be out of here in forty-six seconds.

“Georgie, are you alright. B, what do we do?” the woman says from behind the soon-to-be-dead man staring at me.

“Don’t fucking move if you don’t want me to smear his brains on your dress,” I order her, and she glares at me peeking around his arm. This must be Marge. I take in the woman in a tight yellow dress that shows off her shapely body and high heels. Her lips are big and bright red. She’s attractive but nothing like my little kitten.

Her eyes dart to me then back to Georgia, like seeing a man held at knifepoint aiming a gun isn’t disturbing. “Thank the Gods you’re here,” Marge tells Georgie.

They are both peeking from behind us.

“B, what the hell? Put down the knife,” Georgie pleads.

I know she wants to go to her friend, but I want her to stay behind me.

“No can do little G, Marge said this asshole hurt you?” His chest rumbles with anger at the thought of her being hurt.

I can sympathize with that. “I would never,” I mutter, not that this guy would trust me. At that Marge must believe me because she leaves B’s back and holds out her hands for Georgie.

“B, don’t move,” Marge says, her tone deadly.

I can’t help but smirk.

His stare cuts from me to his window reflection, and the distorted image of the red dot calms my nerves. It’s in the center of this fucker’s chest. Zee is outside.

“Knife in a gunfight, dumbass,” I gloat.

“B, no, it’s not like that. Keeper would never hurt me.”

My lips turn up at the sides at the sound of Georgie’s confidence. She seems tense, but she isn’t scared like she was in the basement. Maybe because she knows this guy. Either way, pride bubbles in my chest at how strong she is.

“Mags?” the guy asks her for direction before adding pressure to the blade.

It stings now. I can tell by his stance and body weight he knows how to fight and correctly hold a person at knifepoint. His fear isn’t for himself; he’s worried about Marge and Georgie.

Marge shakes her head at him, then turns to Georgie. “Is this the ex? Where have you been Georgie? Are you safe?”

“What do you know about the ex? Have you contacted him?” I ask.

Marge and Georgie share a look, and it’s obvious there is a secret there. I need to know about the text, and if she’s going to lead us to the feds. It won’t be the first run-in we’ve had. I might be getting too old for this shit as I plot four ways to get our attention away from the FBI. Lee will be pissed about three of them.

“This isn’t him; this is Keeper. He won’t hurt me or you.”

The asshole with a knife raises his eyebrow.

Well, that is not exactly true. If it’s them or Georgie, there is no question who I will or will not hurt. I will pick her. Every time. “Drop the knife and your brains can stay intact. Maybe they work better that way but I haven’t seen proof so far.” My words result in him lessening the pressure on my neck, and I realize I don’t want to kill him. Marge is Georgie’s friend, and she likes it here.

The dot appears back on his head. Zeke could have shot him twenty times by now.

I put my com on before I got out of the truck. I knew it was risky taking her here or out anywhere in LA. Zeke never makes rash decisions, but I know he’s holding back for fear this asshole’s death would hurt Georgie. I assume Calum went on the job alone, because if he had been outside, I’d have already been covered in brains.

“Shit, B, the laser moved. Back off.” Georgia marches right up to Marge and wraps her arms around her, genuinely glad to see her.

B doesn’t lower the knife that could easily kill me with its proximity. He chuckles with amusement. I doubt it’s everyday anyone gives him a fair fight. He’s my height and close to my size; his arms are huge, and he’s covered in ink from his neck to his fingers. He’s dangerous, and I don’t trust him around Georgie.

“B, you can let him go. This isn’t the guy.” Marge twists her lips like she is thinking. “I don’t think he’s a fed either.”

B grunts in agreement and lowers his knife.

“Keeper. It’s okay. Who’s outside? Is it Zeke? Tell him to stop.”

I nod and move next to her, pulling her into my side and holding her waist. He can hear her, and the red dot following B disappears. The scent of my body wash on her skin hits me, and I kiss her hair. Her pulse is going crazy, but she takes a deep breath when B moves behind Marge.

“You’re Marge?” I assumed she would be an older woman with gray hair and a cigarette hanging from her lips, but instead she’s this bombshell with a bodyguard who knows how to use a knife. He has a slight scar on the edge of his mouth, which turns down when he sees my scowl again. Eventually this fucker will get a fist in his teeth for pulling a knife on me, but not in front of my little kitten.

“Keeper, meet Marge.” Georgia turns to check my neck, her fingers dragging across the puncture. It’s merely a nick. I’ve gotten worse shaving, but I like her concern and how her soft fingers touch me.

“Nice to meet you, Marge. Georgie, let’s do what you need and get back home.”

She nods her agreement. “B don’t hurt Keeper. I need to talk with Marge.” She frowns at him.

“He’s not going to hurt me,” I assure her with a scoff.

“That blood on your neck tells a different story,” he adds with a smirk.

I step forward, but then Georgie is between us. She frowns at the six-foot-six man with his greased-back, jet-black hair under a hairnet. The white apron he has draped over dark jeans and a black T-shirt are a contrast to the thug underneath. A predator lurks beneath his surface.

“Little G, don’t be mad, you know Mags calls the shots, and we thought something was wrong. Are you alright?”

I want to gouge out his eyes when he runs them over her assessing for damage. I don’t like that he calls her by a nickname. I do that. The more I study him, I get a vague sense he seems familiar, but I can’t quite place his face.

Georgie nods. “I will be. Stay with Keeper, I need to talk with Marge in the back.” Turning to me, her eyebrow arches before asking, “Will you be okay here? B will get you pie. No fighting, Keeper, promise?”

I scowl at B, which is a dumb as fuck nickname, and he grins at me as we both decide how to play out the next part. He might have lowered his knife, but it’s still in his grasp.

“Kitten, I don’t think you should leave my sight. I’ll come with you.”

She puts up a hand to stop my movements, and this fucker steps to my side, and presses the knife to me again.

Having enough, I use my shoulder to slam into his chest, surprising him, so that he steps back. Too bad for the big man, I land my fist across his jaw and push Georgie at my back so fast the knife thuds to the ground.

“Enough.” Now both girls are in the middle of us, but it’s Marge who speaks first. “B, Keeper. Fucking quit. Georgie is fine with me in the back for a minute. Both of you go sit on either side of the diner. Do not make me tell you again.”

I huff at her, and B sticks his lip out, shuffling across the diner like a wounded puppy. Georgie blows me a kiss before grabbing her friend’s hand heading to the back, and I throw myself down in a booth. Looks like the customer left in the middle of that scuffle. Not that I blame him.

B lays some type of ledger out on the table and starts working. The dynamic between him and Marge is interesting. I stare at him as he slides off the hair net and pushes his hair back. When he does, a tattoo below his ear is revealed for a second. I think I recognize it.

He must feel my calculating eyes on him because he shoves a middle finger my way even though his sight remains on whatever he is working on.

My phone pings, and I open the messages, hoping the job is going well.

Calum: What the fuck was that? Zee called.

Keeper: I’ve got it. Georgie is talking in the back with her friend. I’m sure we will be gone before you get here. Go to the job.

Zee: He finished it and is on the way.

Keeper: That was quick even if it was a small assignment.

Calum: That’s what Georgie said about your dick last night.

Keeper: Fuck off.

Zee: Are we killing the fucker at the diner?

I turn my head to B again, wondering what a guy like him is doing as a fry cook and bookkeeper with a woman like Marge.

Keeper: Naw, I think Georgie likes him. He thought I was the ex.

Calum: I don’t care if she likes him, he isn’t joining the harem.

Zee: Harem? Calum, Georgie is not going to add another woman to our relationship.

He better not even consider it. I agree with Zee.

Keeper: Calum, Georgie doesn’t need that, no other women. You’re an asshole.

Calum: Of course no other women, it’s us, we are her harem, although I guess it’s a reverse huh?

Keeper: Are we her harem? I thought the plan was to let her pick.

Calum: I will be there in ten.

Zee: Let Georgia figure out her own harem rules, dicks.

My phone stops pinging. No one has anything else to say about that. What are we doing with her? None of the rules that we set out have even remotely stayed in place. Could we do this with her, with all of us? My dick says hell yeah. Our night together was fucking unbelievable. But my head goes back to that pamphlet Calum was hounding me about and where I’m at. Despite the two, I want Georgie however I can have her. End of story.