The Santas Who Stole Me (Stolen #1)

Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

GEORGIE

I wiggle with the wetness in my panties in Keeper’s giant truck as he heads to the diner. So much has happened so quickly. I can’t believe they all want me. I feel my cheeks heat thinking about the deal we made. I’m more than determined now to not let anything ruin this. I feel Keeper’s eyes on me without looking, and I know he has a satisfied grin on his handsome face. I stay silent, repeating the plan I set in motion in my head while rubbing the charm bracelet with my fingers.

“Are you alright, do you need anything, Georgie? We can go back home.”

Home. It is my home too. Dang, that warms my entire body. “I’m fine, it’s just a little overwhelming you know, but it will be all over soon.” My voice doesn’t sound at all convincing, but Keeper stays quiet.

We pull up to the diner, and I wait for Keeper to walk around and open my door, where he holds his hands out for me, and we walk in together. The open sign is off. I swear Marge never keeps normal hours, but no one complains. I’m sure it is some type of LA lifestyle.

“Little G, we’re back here,” B calls, I assume, from the kitchen.

We make our way through the booths and tables. I love the vibe here. Marge managed to make the place have an industrial, modern feel that only she could pull off. I’d die for half of her style.

“Georgie, I’m going to check in with the guys. Zeke is outside somewhere. Calum will be here soon,” Keeper tells me with a quick scan of the diner before leaving me to walk to the back.

I glance at the red digital clock on the wall. I have twenty minutes to get this together or I’m not going to make it out of here, but it feels like Keeper can see right through my guilty brain. I could never do what they do. Lying is exhausting. My heart rate picks up as I make my way to Marge, thankful that she won’t judge the sweat on my brow or under my boobs.

“Hey, Georgie, how are you doing?” Marge’s eyes cut to me and then B. I’m certain she didn’t tell him our plan, since his protective streak is bigger than Keeper’s, and he would shut this down in an instant.

His thick arm wraps around my shoulders when he pulls me into a quick hug. “Don’t be worried about tomorrow, we can handle it, G. I have connections if it goes south,” B lets me know, squeezing my rigid form once more.

Everyone is picking up how tense I am. Calm your tits, Georgie, you can do this. I inwardly groan. My pep talks are truly terrible. I go sit by Marge and we get into our flow of piping and boxing the cookies.

“We can take them to the shelter once this is over,” Marge whispers to me as we work on dozens of cookies no one actually ordered. Marge makes small talk and I haven’t seen Keeper in a few minutes.

Right on time the delivery trucks arrive, and I will my nerves and tits to chill once more.

“You sure?” Marge asks as we view the security camera on the backdoor.

The delivery truck driver steps out and slams the driver’s side door.

“Yep, if you don’t hear back from me in thirty minutes call the guys, okay?”

“Love you, Georgie. Come right back.” She squeezes my hand and shoves her car key in them.

“Love you too,” I whisper, clutching the key like it will give me some of Marge’s strength. The delivery guy at the front starts shouting as planned, and I make my way to the back of the kitchen. I quickly unplug the alarm for the fire exit and slip through, where the cool air hits me. Shoving my arms in Marge’s yellow coat, I pull my hair down from the ponytail and fan it out. It’s darker than hers, and I’m shorter, but I’m hoping the shit in the front distracts Zeke long enough he doesn’t see me.

The backend of the truck is lowered automatically, and the delivery driver begins pushing the cart that’s at least six feet tall off the platform. The wheels squeak as he shuffles the load to the backdoor Marge left open.

I slip through the space, staying behind the cart as he moves.

His slow speed helps me get to the other side. The lining of the trees around the building offers the cover we hoped for. It’s like a mini forest back here.

Marge parked her car right next to the building, and I open the door and slip in. Her red Mercedes stands out, but like I said, I only need thirty minutes. I reach for the burner Marge put in her coat and open it while I back out of the lot. The car engine roars as I make my way down the alley that leads to the interstate.

I blow out a shaky breath, looking at the burner phone. Agent Fisher sent me a message earlier today confirming our meeting at the coffee shop I named for the drop off. My heart rate is unsteady, and my hands tremble with my grip on the steering wheel. At this point, I give up on all pep talks and chew on my bottom lip instead.

Agent Fisher and I made a deal when I called her at the diner. I told her I would drop off the files if she would guarantee Chad’s arrest. It’s encrypted so she will need my password to open it. I won’t give it to her until I have proof he’s not going to come after me.

I don’t know how the encryption will hold up against the FBI techs, but it’s the best I have. The annoying part of my brain reminds me Zeke would know exactly how to make it FBI proof. I think of his handsome face and smile. I’ll be back to him soon.

The coffee shop isn’t too busy when I park, and Agent Fisher sits near the cafe window. Her dark hair is pulled up in a high ponytail that is similar to mine before I attempted my Marge look.

She gives me a small nod of acknowledgment when she sees me.

I force my legs to move out of the car. This was my idea, so why does it feel so dangerous? Am I that head over heels for the guys that doing this without them feels wrong? I already know the answer: I’m all in. Resisting the urge to put my hand on my belly to protect what I’m sure is a nonexistent baby, the door whips open to my side.

“Oh, sweetheart, how I missed you.”

My veins turn to ice, and I freeze at that voice, the one that haunts me.

Useless.

Ugly.

Idiot.

His presence poisons the air wrapping around my throat and restricts my breathing. I can’t move, and he knows it. His hazel eyes light up, sensing my fear, and he stands in front of me like he is in complete control. I glance away from him, quickly searching through the window for the agent. For anyone to fucking help me move my lead legs.

“Oh, you found her.” The feminine voice cuts through the tension, and I see Agent Fisher smiling up at Chad like he hung the moon.

“Agent Fisher?” My voice breaks in confusion.

“She isn’t an agent. You are so easy to fool, sweetheart. It’s pathetic really.” Chad’s clean-shaven chin slides across my jaw, sending chills straight to my brain.

“I can’t wait to hear you scream for me again. I have that same spot all ready for you. You know your favorite one in my room. I made some additions to it. As much as I love chasing you, I won’t let it happen again.”

Images of that dark closet, the door click, my thoughts bouncing around, wanting to die … All of it floods my brain.

“No,” I say, backing away, finding myself trying to run.

Of course it’s useless. Chad’s arm squeezes my bicep, and he drags me to him. A sharp pain hits my side, and I look down, seeing his gun digging into Marge’s coat. “Oh, come on, let’s go for a drive.” Chad’s hand digs into my pocket, grabs the car key, and hands it to Agent Fisher. “Drive us.”

She bobs her head like this is normal, and I have no idea what is happening between the two of them.

Chad pulls the backdoor open and holds his hand out as if he is a true gentleman waiting for me to slide in. I scan the parking lot, which remains empty, desperate for any type of help. Chad notices my failed attempt to find a way out of this situation and slams my kidney with the butt of the gun. I bite my lip so hard it bleeds, and I scoot inside the car. I’m going to jump out the second I get a chance.

Somehow reading my mind, he scoffs. “I wouldn’t think about it, sweetheart. Honestly, you could get hurt. But more than that I would hate for the agency to get wind of who you have been spending time with. Ties to the Vega Cartel with the bitch that owns the diner, the FBI is constantly swarming that family. And those men, well. He pauses, eyeing my reaction.

I remain stoic and try to give him nothing.

He exhales loudly with disappointment. “Typical. When we are apart you make the worst decisions. It will be better now that we are together, you’ll see.” He pats my leg with his gun, and my gut churns.

He knows about the guys.

I don’t know what he’s talking about with the Vega Cartel, but maybe they work together. I never really got the details. Naive and stupid, I know.

My fingers tremble at my sides, and I watch Agent Fisher pull us out of the parking lot.

“Who are you?” I ask her, and she smiles at me in the mirror.

“No one, just a coworker,” Chad answers my question, and I can’t help but notice the pain in her eyes from his words.

Great, psychos just flock to my ass everywhere I go. “Where are we going? Chad, people will notice I’m gone this time. It will be easier if you let me go now. I promise we don’t have to ever see each other. I will give you the drive.” My rambling plea is stopped when he pulls out his phone with a glare that makes my stomach twist. I know that look, I’ve disappointed him again somehow.

“Sir, Agent Porter here, go ahead and move on the diner on South, the intel came quicker than expected. I’ll see you there in a bit.” He’s sending the FBI to the diner. Chad smiles at me and guilt consumes me.

Everything I wanted to avoid is happening to the guys and Marge.

“No, Chad, the guys and the diner don’t have anything to do with this. I’ll go with you.”

“Of course you will, sweetheart. There are no other men for you, and honestly your taste in friends is terrible. They will all be eliminated. It isn’t your fault; I know they took you. They will pay.”

My mouth opens to try pleading again; he likes when I do that, but words never leave my lips. Black slices my vision, when he whips the gun across my face. My head slams back, hitting the window, and I’m faced with my only fear worse than Chad. Dark, deep black swallows me along with the terror of losing the guys. It swirls in my gut along with the guilt of knowing the trouble they are going to be in because of me. My heart breaks, and I sink into the black, what I once thought was my biggest fear, this time not caring if I come out or not.