The Santas Who Stole Me (Stolen #1)

Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

GEORGIE

Pain starting at my hips wracks through my body. Sharp and piercing. I look down at a set of hands digging into them. The hands are big and rough, nails with red-rust dirt underneath. Not dirt, blood, caked in the creases.

“Stop,” I scream, but the only sound I hear is deep booming laughter. “I’m coming,” he barks out. Hands are gripping me. They start at my ankle, then snake up to my legs, stomach. There are hundreds pulling me down.

“Stop!” I scream again. I can’t run or move, but I’m trying. I’m always trying, it’s never enough. I hit a wall, the hands pull me. Down. Down. Down as if I ever had a choice to go another way.

My eyes shoot open, and my vision is fuzzy.

Keeper hovers above me with a scowl. “Georgie, are you awake?” His hands grip my arms and he gives my body a shake.

I can’t speak. Focusing on the floor, I see the lamp has been knocked off the table next to the bed. The table lies on its side.

“What happened?”

“You were sleepwalking and knocked it over.”

Zeke put me in bed last night. Actually Keeper’s bed, which somehow became officially mine. I love his room, and his bed is custom to fit his size, so the guys can all pile in together.

“I’m sorry, I’ll clean the mess.”

Keeper’s room is perfectly kept with his sleek modern decor. Items from the nightstand have fallen out of the drawer, and the lamp is broken. It’s not too many things, since even his drawers have his minimalist lifestyle. Scanning the papers, pencil, and earbuds, I see a tiny drop of red on the carpet. I squint to see another few and realize the cut on my foot is bleeding.

“I don’t care about the mess. How do you feel, Georgie?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. I guess?—”

“The other day at the store escalated your dreams? Or is it because you know you will see Chad soon?”

I let out a long breath, not agreeing or disagreeing with either statement. I don’t know. That nightmare felt real and ugly.

Keeper looks at my foot again as the red bleeds on his carpet. “Stay put. I’ll go grab something to clean this.” He tilts his head to survey me, then quietly turns and walks away.

With his absence, embarrassment washes over me. Will I always be like this? I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around my bent legs. Visions of my nightmares and times with Chad flash behind my eyes every time they are closed. I’m so tired, so tired of this. Sleep takes more out of me than being awake.

Keeper makes no noise walking back into the room. He crouches in front of me and remains silent. I don’t want to meet his stare, so I focus on the contents of the spilled nightstand. The silence is deafening, causing his voice to get louder in my head.

Worthless.

Ugly.

Dead.

My eyes squeeze shut as if that can remove Chad’s words. Keeper wipes my cut, making me wince and pulling my head out from the internal nightmare on repeat. I’m grateful for the pain and distraction as he puts a bandage over the scratch.

“Georgie, you can tell me anything, you know that?”

Glossy pamphlets with large baby-blue eyes peeking out under a striped hat are scattered on the floor. I hold one up to him. “You can tell me anything too.” My statement is more of a question than his was. Am I deflecting? For sure, but after Tuesday, I’ll tell them everything, no more secrets. He holds out his hand, and I place the thick paper in it.

“This fucking pamphlet again.” He almost chuckles when he says it.

“Why do you have it?”

“I got it from a job.”

My brows scrunch. What kind of job would he have taken with this pamphlet?

“We took out a fertility doctor, don’t get mad about it. He was a dick who was using his own sperm to impregnate surrogates.”

That is sickening. The part about the doctor, not about the job he did. The doctor deserved to die. Keeper didn’t say, but he was thinking it, and I can’t help but agree. “Do you only take jobs for people who deserve it? I’m not trying to be judgmental, simply wondering.”

“No, it’s a job. I’m sure the person who hired us felt he was as justified as the doctor who wanted to play God.”

I understand what he means, two sides to every story. Which is right and who is wrong? I wasn’t affected by hearing he killed a doctor, what does that say about me? “So why did you take literature from this job about adopting a baby?”

The creases around his mouth disappear with his thoughts. Keeper sits back on his heels and joins me on the floor. He takes up so much space he has to shift around to find room from the mess I made.

“The guys think I’m having a midlife crisis.”

I try not to smile, he’s not even thirty years old. I keep quiet sensing he’s about to lay things out for me. I don’t want him to keep things from me. The word hypocrite floats in my mind, but I ignore it.

“I want a baby.”

I consider his confession. My giant GI Joe killer wants a baby. I wait for him to continue explaining, but he doesn’t. He must be expecting me to freak out about this. “You take care of your family. You would do the same with a baby.”

“Do you want kids, Georgie? Have you thought of that?”

“Not in a while. Not with … you know.” I wave my hand in a circle but leave off the rest of my crazy FBI stalker ex-boyfriend who wants to kill me . Nope, I finished that sentence in my head.

“But before?” he asks.

“I always imagined I would have a big family. Growing up it was only me and my parents, so I want my kids to have siblings. I love that you have your brothers. I’d want our kids to have that too. I mean mine,” I quickly correct, and my cheeks heat while I pretend I didn’t just act like a crazy clinger who imagines having Keeper’s baby and drew a heart around his name on the cookies I made yesterday. I did and put a plus sign with my name under his. He ate it and didn’t question it. If I thought I was falling before, now he’s talking about babies and looking all vulnerable. I’m a goner.

“When we were younger we had it rough with our junkie mom, no clue where our dads were, so I tried to shield Calum as best I could. It was a bad neighborhood, and we had no adults to help us navigate anything. I figured out how to survive in that world, but I wanted to get Calum out. Instead he dove head first with me.” Regret fills his face. He shifts resting his hand on his knee.

I resist the urge to crawl into his lap to give him time to continue.

“When our mother overdosed I found her. I was relieved, both for her finding peace and for the fact we no longer had to live with her chaos. I took her last few dollars out of her purse, and we left. I didn’t let Calum come into her room to say goodbye, he didn’t shed a tear. I knew then that I was fucking him up, he should be sad our mother died. I don’t know what he felt, he never said anything, and I didn’t have time to ask. I was terrified that the state would take us away from each other. I went to the library and used the computers there to find where Grams lived. Her name was on some of the things my mom had. My mother never spoke of her. We used her last dollars to take the bus and showed up on her doorstep. Grams didn’t know where our mother was, she ran away and hadn’t seen her in all that time.”

“She didn’t know about the two of you?”

“No, she isn’t a warm and fuzzy type of grandmother. Whatever she went through to raise my mother, it must have been hard. But she was there, took us in and did her best. Our grandfather died when my mother was young. Grams thought that was part of the problem my mother had, too much grief.”

“You found her and kept Calum with you.” I don’t know why I add that confirmation to his story, maybe because Keeper seems as though he didn’t handle this situation right. He did.

“I did. Grams got sick then, she needed treatment that could help but wasn’t covered with her medical insurance. We needed money, and I was desperate for her to find it. Calum wasn’t upset about our mother, but he would have been about losing Grams. I couldn’t lose her too. I went to a local MC and requested work.”

“MC?”

“Motorcycle club, one of the one percent, a gang. They were trying to recruit us for a while. When they cornered Calum after school one day, we beat one of their members badly enough they left us alone. Well, the beating and the fact that Calum and I set it up so that they took the fall. One of their highest members almost faced jail time. I wasn’t sure what they were going to offer me, but I was desperate enough to do it. My first hit was for them. I made enough for the first two rounds of treatment, but I needed more. So I started down this path. I might have started for Gram, but I didn’t stop when I got what we needed. I like the thrill, the money, and getting away with it. Calum being who he is jumped right in.” His breath releases, and I think he’s waiting for me to see the terrible monster in him. Someone who tainted his brother.

I keep my gaze steady. He can keep waiting because he won’t find any judgment in my stare. I would have done the same thing to keep my mom. “You’re a good brother; they are lucky to have you.”

“Do you know why I took you off the roof?”

I thought I did. At first I was a threat that could bring the FBI, then as a way to lead them to Chad. Now everything is changing. I can see the end of this coming so close I can taste it too. I want to be free of that asshole and keep everyone away from his cancerous hold.

“Tell me.”

A hunger comes across Keeper’s face, and it’s directed at me.

I don’t know how we went from babies, to murder for hire, to this, but I’m dangling on the edge of falling completely for him. Maybe it’s too late, and I’m already done for.

“It felt like I found everything I was looking for the second I saw you. My mind is on repeat with thoughts of you, Georgie, since the moment I saw you, I knew you would be my forever. I can’t get this vision of you on that roof with your hair blowing in the wind, dress wrapping around your legs as you walk to me. Belly round with a baby, my baby.”

I bite my lip that’s suddenly wobbly at his sweet words.

“I want you, too, a brother, killer, grandson, daddy, whatever you are. I want it to be mine.”

Picking me up like I weigh nothing, he arranges my body, so I sit inside his legs facing him, and he puts his forehead on mine. I let his tongue take over my mouth. Keeper needs the control, but he doesn’t want some broken girl. He may call me kitten, but he wants me to be strong too. Our tongues twist and fight, and my heart is pounding out of control, matching his breaths. I shove my hand in his hair and pull him close to me.

“Daddy, huh?” Keeper whispers in my mouth. Our noses touch, and I can’t help but smoosh my face into his, inhaling his breath before he continues our kiss. “The thought of you with my baby inside you? Fuck, Georgie, it makes me so hard. I want to fill that pussy with my cum. Breed you over and over. Let’s practice. How long until the birth control wears off?”

“A few weeks, not long.” Am I agreeing to this? It’s insane, right? To carry his baby, that’s the definition of crazy.

He lets out an angry growl. My killer boyfriend wants a baby. A baby with me, and damn if that doesn’t make me stupidly giddy.

“I have an appointment to go back the second of the month to get my next birth control shot at the clinic.”

“That’s perfect. It’s the fifteenth.” Pure joy plays across his face.

Gasping, I scramble off his lap searching for a calendar. Shoving things around, I dig through the contents of the nightstand. That’s where people put calendars right?

“What are you looking for?”

“A calendar. You took my phone. I haven’t had a calendar, and with everything so insane right now, I don’t know the date. Shoot.” I stomp my foot for being so irresponsible then wince remembering the cut. My eyes screw shut, and I can’t block out that voice anymore. He screams in my head how I’m an idiot messing everything up. I’ve had sex with Keeper and his brothers, unprotected and often. I could be pregnant. Letting out a breath, I throw myself back on Keeper’s bed and slam my hands over my face. I’m terrified the guys will be angry about having a baby. What if they fight and I make everything worse for everyone?

“Kitten, you are grinding your teeth. Take a deep breath and talk with me.”

“You want a baby; I think with me. And I could be pregnant already with your brother’s or Zeke’s baby. Will you hate me if that happens?” If he does, I won’t survive it. Broken body and abuse by Chad will be nothing compared to losing Keeper. The realization that this is not going to end well hits me. They aren’t going to agree with this. Keeper and Calum punched each other the other morning over the last pancake, and Zeke said it was normal.

“I haven’t been clear with you, and that’s my fault, I’ll do better.” As if I could be any more confused about this conversation, Keeper picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and yells, “Calum, Zeke, team meeting. Now!” while carrying me down the hallway.