Chapter Twelve
Krampus
She was gone before I could stop her.
Before I could warn her.
The man from last night stood at the doorway, blocking me from chasing after them.
“Move,” I growl, standing toe to toe with him without a second thought.
“She’s in a meeting,” he says with a sneer, one so cold it could freeze bone.
“I’m not asking. I’m telling you to move.”
He folds his arms across his chest, refusing to budge. “And I said, she’s in a fucking meeting.”
“Listen, asshole, I know more than you think I do…” My voice filters off before I let on just how much I do know about his little operation, making the big oaf raise a single eyebrow.
“You don’t know shit, motherfucker.” He taps on my mask. “What’s this? A child’s mask? Did you forget that Halloween ended a few weeks ago?”
My jaw tics in frustration. “Don’t touch my mask.”
“Or what, asshole? Whatcha gonna do?” He shows me his piece. The cold metal glints off some sunlight filtering through her front window. Mine is flush against my back, ready to be pulled when I need it.
“Are you really gonna gun me down right here? In the middle of a bakery on a cold Wednesday morning?”
“If I have to. I don’t have time for asshole bikers that have a death wish.”
“The only man with a death wish here is you, motherfucker. I’ll end your life if you so much as touch her.”
He mocks me with fake laughter. “Touch her? No, I have far better plans for her than that.”
Fists already clenching, I square up to him, ready to swing if I have to. “And what exactly does that fucking mean?”
He shrugs. “If she keeps you around long enough, you’ll soon find out, lapdog.”
Before I can stop him, he grabs my mask, sending the flimsy plastic clear across the room.
His face curls in complete disgust, stepping backward like whatever is wrong with me may be contagious. “Ugh, what the fuck is wrong with your face?”
Mortified, I cover myself, searching for the mask that has somehow slid beneath one of her cupboards.
Dropping to my knees, I desperately search for it, my fingers only barely touching the curled edge before it slides even further back.
The man laughs with unfiltered glee. “Do you really think a girl like her would ever be interested in a monster like you?”
“Shut up,” I growl, my voice riddled with desperation. If Mindy comes back through that door and sees my face, there’s no telling how she’ll react. Just the thought of it has me scrambling harder, fingers clawing uselessly against tile and dust.
My hand finally closes around the edge of the mask. Relief hits me hard when I pull back into view, but it all changes when a boot slams down inches from my knuckles.
“Nuh-uh.” His shoe grinds forward, pinning the mask in place. “Can’t have you hiding now. She deserves to see what you really are.”
I surge to my feet, rage burning through my veins like embers fleeing an inferno, but he’s faster. He shoves me backward with his meaty hand palming my chest, sending me crashing into a prep table. Metal rattles as trays clatter to the floor.
“Easy, Frankenstein,” he growls. “You make another move, and this gets loud.” His gun’s out and pointed casually at my ribs like it’s nothing more than an accessory. Like my life is an inconvenience for the big oaf.
My teeth grind together. “You hurt her,” I say slowly, each word carved out of fury, “and I swear to God I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” he cuts me off, leaning in so close that I can smell his pungent breath that’s soured with booze and arrogance.
“Snarl at me? Cry? You’re already on your knees begging for a life that’s already mine.
” His fists clench my shirt, the mood changing from a friendly challenge to murderous intent. “I bought her fair and square.”
That does it.
I move before the fear can catch up, swinging hard, fist connecting with his jaw in a solid crack that echoes through the bakery.
Pain explodes up my arm, but it’s worth it.
He stumbles back, mouth bleeding from the gums as he lets out a string of bilingual swears.
Some I recognize. Some need translation.
He’s swift, the gun firing before I can react.
Glass shatters somewhere behind me, and I duck out of instinct, grabbing the table edge as another round slams into the wall. Flour rains down like snow, coating everything in white chaos.
“Son of a—” he bellows, ready to fire another shot.
I lunge.
We collide in a brutal mess of limbs and rage. His elbow catches me in the side of the head, stars bursting across my vision, but I don’t stop. I drive him backward, forcing him into the shelving. Jars crash to the floor. A sack of sugar explodes like confetti.
He’s bigger than me and much stronger.
But I don’t care.
I slam my forearm against his throat, my grip unforgiving.
He struggles against my hands, and the gun slips just enough for me to take control.
My hand closes around the barrel and two of his fingers, twisting hard until something pops, and his agonizing scream fills the room as the gun clatters to the floor and skids across it.
We freeze, both of us staring at his piece, wondering who can get to it first.
He makes a move, but not before I have my own Glock out, pressing it against his throat until it’s battling his Adam’s apple for dominance.
“She’ll never belong to you,” I grit out, adrenaline pumping through me like gasoline. “She belongs to no one.”
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” he grits out. “You’re fucking with the wrong people.”
The door next door slams, and the bakery door swings open not long after. A furious Moseley comes rushing in with a very concerned Mindy following closely behind.
“What the hell is going on here!” Moseley bellows, taking in the scene as if he’s personally calculating all the damage in his head.
Mindy gasps, and I can’t tell if it’s from the mess or if she just got a glimpse of my face.
My mask! Where the fuck is my mask?
My heart drops straight into my stomach when she comes into view, the blood draining from her face in sheer terror.
My foe smiles through bloodied teeth; it slithers like a snake across his face. “It’s showtime, Frankenstein. Show that little bitch the monster you really are.”
I spin around as she inches towards me, shielding my face, mortified of what she’ll think if she sees the real me.
Her eyes flick to the shattered glass, taking in the ruined shelves, and the flour drifting through the air like fog rolling over a bog. Then they land on me. On my face.
Her gasp hits me like an arrow of precision; the pity in her eyes raking through me like bitter leaves of regret.
Time stops altogether.
She just stares at my scars—at the part of me that I keep hidden. She ogles them like she’s got tickets to a sideshow. “Step right up and see the monster of Fernley up close and personal.”
It feels too revealing. Too raw.
Fuck, every part of me wants to run for the hills and never look back, but I don’t. Not when these two men have plans for her that she doesn’t quite know about.
I have to protect her, even if she locks me in the dungeon forever.
“Now she sees you for what you really are. A monster. A beast,” he goads, his words slicing through my soul. “Do you honestly think she’d ever go for someone like you when there are men like me ready to own her?”
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper so only he can hear, breaking free just long enough to grab my mask.
My fingers tremble around the flimsy plastic, chest tightening like it’s caving in on itself. Shame hits me harder than any punch ever could. The bastard broke it! My only piece of protection is now in two pieces, leaving me vulnerable and unprotected.
Slowly, I turn to face her, bracing myself for the flinch, and her blood-curdling scream. Waiting for the look of disgust I’ve seen a hundred times before.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, Mindy steps forward.
One soft step… followed by another.
Her gaze softens as she gets closer; the fear never appears like it should. She doesn’t look at me like I’m a monster that should be hidden. No. Mindy looks at me like I’m just another man on the street. Someone worth being close to.
It distracted long enough for the bastard to make his move. He grabs my arm, twisting me so my mauled face slams against the concrete wall.
“I’ll fucking kill you for crossing me,” he snaps, his tone murderous and final.
“Get away from him,” Mindy orders, her voice shaky but strong.
The man laughs. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”
She doesn’t take her eyes off me. “I said, get away from him.”
For a split second, he looks unsure.
That’s all I need.
Sirens wail in the distance. Someone must’ve called it in when the gun went off. The sound drains the color from his face, and he backs up, hands raised, rage twisting his features like a kaleidoscope.
“This isn’t over,” he spits at me. “You hear me? You’re dead the next time I see you.”
He bolts for the door, disappearing into the cold morning just as police lights flash across the windows.
Silence crashes down around us.
My legs finally give out as I sink onto the closest chair, hands shaking, my breath coming out hard and uneven. I can’t look at her right now. I don’t want to see whatever expression is waiting for me when I lift my eyes.
“Well, this is rather unfortunate,” Moseley exclaims, coming into view. “We don’t want any problems, do we, Ms. St. John?”
She shakes her head. “No, Mr. Moseley.”
“Good. I’m glad our little talk has done what it needed to. Get this place cleaned up, and I’ll expect any damages to come out of your pocket.”
“But—”
His eyes snap to hers cruelly. “Unless you want me to tell those cops out there that your little monster was the one who fired off the shots, I suggest you cooperate.”
“Mindy, it’s okay. I can take the fall—”
She shakes her head, eyes meeting mine without question. “No, he’s right, Rich. I can pay for any damages. It’s not that big of a deal.”
His mustache turns menacingly. “Always a pleasure, Ms. St. John. Always a pleasure.”
The door slams like the end of a sentence, only this sentence feels like one marked with death. The mask shakes in my hands as I take in the pieces, my shield split in two, the worst parts of me visible for everyone to see.
But then she’s there, kneeling before me so I have no choice but to look into those hazel eyes and let her see me up close, ogling the parts of me no one else gets to see. She gently lifts my chin, and instead of disgust, I’m met with a radiant smile and a warmth I can’t quite explain.
“You came here to protect me,” she remarks quietly. “That’s why you’ve refused to leave, isn’t it?”
I swallow, shying away from her fingers that lift to brush over my scars. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.” Shame rides my voice like a tidal wave, the kind that leaves destruction in its wake.
Her hand makes contact before I can stop it, brushing over my flesh, unafraid of the man beneath it, taking it all in like it doesn’t bother her.
“Why, Rich? Because all I see are the best parts of you that you’ve purposely kept hidden from the world.
You’re not a monster. You’re beautiful and pure.
A man so hell bent on protecting me that he would risk his life and hypothermia just to keep me safe.
That, my friend, makes you breathtakingly attractive in my eyes. ”
Then she does something I don’t expect.
She hugs me.
Her arms encircle me, squeezing until I have no choice but to hug her back, allowing her in.
My body shudders. Tears threaten to fall even though I won’t allow them to appear.
She moves back slowly, still fingering my scars like she’s mesmerized by them, her smile welcoming and friendly.
“Don’t ever feel like you have to hide behind a mask for me, Rich. When you’re around me, I want to see all of you. Not just the parts you’re comfortable with, but all the ones that you try to keep hidden, too.
My chest cracks open like it’s just been crushed by a nutcracker, and my heart is the nut ready to be devoured.
This woman is unlike any woman I’ve met in the past, and for the first time since meeting her and walking into this bakery, I take a much-needed deep breath, allowing myself to be mask free around a woman for the first time in years.