Transitions – On the Move
MAC GLANCED at his wife. Propped on her elbows, Hannah bent over the kitchen counter studying the cookbook sprawled open in front of her. Their son sat on a stool beside her.
Liam patted her encouragingly. “It’s not that hard, Mom.”
“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.
Looking away in case she caught him smiling, he refocused on the intelligence report he held. They might be living off the grid but he had ways of keeping a finger on the pulse of their enemies. He had to take them down so his wife and son could live their lives out in the open—well, as open as any Wolf could live. And it wasn’t just Hannah and Liam. The fates of all his men and their families rested on his ability to lead them through perilous times.
His phone pinged. Glancing down, he read Lightfoot’s text message. Mac’s second in command was moving Liz and Micah. Again. He’d gotten the same messages from Nate and Sean. Even Rudy and Antoine, despite the tightly-knit Cajun community out in the bayous keeping them and their mates safe, were on the move.
This timing unsettled him. All of them were being herded to the same area. Why now? And why there? He needed more info
Glass shattered in the kitchen. He jumped to his feet as Hannah let loose with a string of curses. He smiled. Frozen pizza for dinner. Again. He’d figure it out, keep them safe. That’s what Alpha’s did.
GRACE STUCK her fingers in her mouth, staring at the man sleeping on the bench. He was fat, his face covered in white whiskers, and he snored. He also wore a red puffy coat, dirty pants, and old boots. Joy grabbed the little girl’s arm and jerked her back. Grace’s gaze bounced between her and the old man.
Joy tried to pull her away but the toddler dug in her heels and refused to budge. Joy crinkled her nose. The old dude smelled ripe—BO and booze. She recognized both odors from one of the guards at the lab. Not a happy combination—the stink or the memory. She didn’t get Grace’s fascination but they needed to escape before the adults found them. They were supposed to be asleep in the car but she’d been awake when they stopped for gas and food. The big man—Nate—he’d parked the SUV after filling it up, made sure they were still asleep and then went inside to find Jacey. She was his wife but something more too.
Joy was having trouble getting used to life outside the lab. It was scary out here and there was so much she didn’t know. The big man had saved her. She trusted him all the way down to her very bones. Bad things had happened after the lab. Sad things. Grace’s mom and dad got killed. And just like the big man and Jacey had taken her in, they added baby Grace to their… Joy blinked. She didn’t know what to call their little group. She had vague memories of a smiling woman and a gruff man, but when she closed her eyes or dreamed at night, it was the big man’s face she saw. He always came to save her from the nightmares—the horrible scenes of red splattered on walls, of living on the streets, hiding from the bad people, hungry and cold.
She’d learned a lot about human predators but not enough that the bad people hadn’t caught up to her. They’d given her shots and hurt her and did things she didn’t want to remember so there was a big, black wall between her and those memories, but she was scared the wall had cracks in it now. There were times when she heard the screaming, felt the needles sliding into her skin, heard the bad people talkingtalkingtalking in their ugly voices.
The big man never talked much. Not to her anyway. Sometimes, she’d wake up in the dark and hear his voice murmuring things to Jacey, or she’d watch his shadow move around the room as he walked the floor with little Grace. How could a man like him be so gentle? She was just glad he been the one to open her cell door, telling her to come with him. She hadn’t hesitated.
And even though they were on the road constantly, and stayed in cheap motels, she felt safe. Except for now. Things were changing way too fast. Nate had talked into his computer, answering the voices of those other men like him. Then Jacey packed them up and they were off again. Everyone said Christmas was coming, and she had vague memories of that, too. Of lights and music and a man in red with white whiskers. But not this old guy. Nope. This guy reminded her of those nights she spent on the streets, hiding in cardboard boxes.
She pulled on Grace’s hand but the kid still didn’t budge. She threw up her hands, grabbed then hoisted the toddler over her shoulder like a sack of laundry. Grace giggled but as she turned to walk away, the little girl’s words stopped Joy dead in her tracks.
“Bye bye, Santa. Feel better.”
Santa? Gracie thought the old drunk was Santa? Crud. Joy didn’t believe in any of that stuff. Holidays weren’t something celebrated in the lab. Since being freed, she’d discovered lots of things and one of them was that little kids needed something to believe in. Liam had told her that. She sort of missed Liam. Cory and Micah too. Discovering other kids once the big man rescued her was almost as good as discovering books and reading.
But the bad men came back and there was shooting and death and all the big people freaked out. They tried to hide it from the kids but all of them knew bad stuff was happening. Within a short time, they loaded up everything, got in their houses on wheels—Liam called them RVs—and took off in different directions. Some stayed behind. Some traveled together for a while and then split up. They were alone now—the big man, Jacey, baby Grace and her. They’d sold the RV and now just traveled in the big SUV. Memories crowded in and she thought about Liam and his words. He was smart for a boy and she now decided he was right. Grace was way too young to give up make-believe. Before she could figure out what to say, the man woke up.
“Ho, ho, ho, baby girl.”
Grace pushed off Joy’s back with her arms so she could see the man and giggled again. She raised one pudgy hand and waved. “Hi, Santa.”
Joy eased the toddler to the ground and faced the man, ready to do battle to keep Gracie safe. His eyes were blue and blood-shot, his breath almost as bad as his body odor. He focused on her and Joy fought the urge to run before his gaze shifted to the baby.
“’lo, Grayshie.”
Grace darted to him as Joy made a futile grab, her fingers missing the little girl’s jacket by a fraction of an inch. The man swung his feet to the pavement and sat up on the bench just as Grace launched into his lap. Joy fisted her hands, ready to wade in to save Grace. The little girl settled into his lap and leaned against him, utterly trusting. Joy started to relax and then stopped breathing for a second. How did the old guy know Grace’s name?
Something shimmered around the man and he straightened up. “Gotta lay off thosh hot toddies,” he slurred. Shaking his head, he blinked several times, as if waking up. He jiggled his leg and Grace crowed in delight at the ride. Still bleary-eyed, he gazed at Joy.
“They picked well,” his words not so drunken now.
She jerked back almost as if she’d suffered a blow. “What?”
“Nate and Jacey. Naming you Joy.”
Terrified, she didn’t know what to do. Her mouth moved and words she hadn’t planned came out. She seldom talked—and never to grownups. “How do you know that?”
He smiled and his ruddy cheeks got even redder. “I’m Santa Claus. I know everything.” His smile dimmed. “Too bad I can’t fix everything. But, if you let them, your parents will.”
“Not my parents.” She refused to meet his eyes.
“They will be, child. They already love you and this little one.” He set Grace down then stood, weaving a bit. “Yup, a little tipsy. Definitely gotta stop with the peppermint schnapps in the hot cocoa.” He inhaled and almost seemed to inflate. His eyes twinkled and were those bells she heard on the wind? “That’s the secret, Joy.”
Joy snatched the toddler’s hand then stood there gaping as the man shimmered again. And disappeared. What the…?
Grace waved at thin air. “Bye-bye, Santa.”
“What secret?” Joy whispered, but she wanted to shout the question.
“The magic of love, Joy. That’s the secret.” His voice came from nowhere, but everywhere. “Merry Christmas.”
She said the only thing that came to mind. “Merry Christmas, Santa.”