Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Jayda stepped through the double doors into the Santa Village lodge.
The warmth cocooned her like a blanket after the icy chaos outside.
Her nerves still trembled from her electrical stun gun experience.
Michael must have noticed because he put his hand on her back, which was so out of his character.
“You’re here!” Ginny shouted from the other end of the hotel lobby that looked like the North Pole. Candles twinkled on every table. Strings of garland looped across the beams of the high timbered ceiling. A giant Christmas tree soared in the corner, its ornaments glittering in soft gold and red.
Jayda tried to slow her pulse with deep breaths. Her heart rate hadn’t slowed since she had felt the man’s arm around her throat and the bite of his knife at her side. The images burned like a brand, but she pasted on a Christmas cheer smile for Ginny.
Fake calm. She’d lived her life with it, hadn’t she? When foster parents fought, when teachers labeled her trouble, when Michael used to look at her with that cutting disdain back in their teenage years. If she’d learned one survival skill, it was pretending she was fine.
Ginny rushed forward, her holiday sweater blazing with sequined poinsettias. She enveloped Jayda in a hug so genuine it made Jayda’s throat ache. Then Ginny reached for Michael, hugging him fiercely too.
“Oh, thank heavens you’re both here. I was so worried something might separate us. But we’re all here and safe.”
Safe. The word felt foreign. But Jayda nodded even though it was a lie.
Behind Ginny, Ed stood from his chair by the fireplace, putting the boys down from his lap. He strode up, broad-shouldered, cheeks red from the flames. He gave Michael a nod. “Glad to see you kept your word.”
“Of course,” Michael said, his voice rougher than usual. He looked away from his father with a tick in his jaw that caused Jayda to pause in wonder. Had she ever noticed the disconnect between father and son? What caused it?
Before she could figure it out, the twins barreled into Jayda like twin snowballs. Timmy and Tyler, identical in red plaid shirts and jeans, their curls fresh and clean.
“Did Ginny give you a bubble bath?” Jayda asked, tweaking their noses.
“Yes!” they answered in unison.
“She gives the best bubble baths. The bubbles overflow right out of the tub.” Jayda smiled with the boys, focusing on settling her heart rate into a peaceful rhythm.
“Did Santa come yet?” Timmy demanded.
“He’ll be here soon,” Ginny said. “But only if you’re good.”
“I’m good,” Tyler whined.
Jayda crouched so she was eye level, bopping their noses. “He wouldn’t miss you two. And I’m sure he’s excited to meet you.”
The boys squealed and dashed toward the stage where a chair draped in red velvet waited, empty for now.
The fake calm nearly slipped. Jayda’s stomach twisted, remembering the danger still prowling outside.
The men could still be looking for her, waiting to make another move.
But for the boys’ sake, for Ginny’s sake, she stood strong, looking carefree.
Jayda took her seat beside Michael, and when he reached under the table to take her hand to squeeze, she nearly let the facade slip.
Tears pricked her eyes, forcing her chin down to push them away.
The room buzzed with chatter around her as her mind whirled with what might have happened to her today. No amount of street smarts could have saved her.
Jayda turned to Michael and whispered, “I’m sorry I brought you into this today. I shouldn’t have done that. Your family doesn’t deserve to lose you because of me. And they could have today. They still could.”
“And what about you? They don’t deserve to lose you either.”
“It’s not the same, and you know it.”
“What are you two whispering about down there?” Ginny called, passing plates of roast beef and potatoes to the twins. The sound of her questioning voice made Jayda flinch.
Jayda’s mouth went dry, unsure of what to say. She had to think of something.
Suddenly, Michael jumped in and replied, “Sorry, Mom, we actually ate while we were out. We were just saying we aren’t very hungry.”
Ginny pouted, but before she could scold them for ruining their dinner, Santa’s hearty ho-ho-ho filtered into the dining room.
“Santa! Santa’s here!” Timmy shouted and pushed back his chair.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Ginny said, all focus on the twins again to keep them seated.
Jayda exhaled in relief. Michael thwarted Ginny’s curiosity for now, but when Jayda glanced at him, he was scanning the exits, jaw set, eyes sharp. She hadn’t thought about how he was feeling, only her own nerves.
The realization lodged like a splinter. He had nearly been killed tonight because of her.
What would she have said to Ginny and Ed if something had happened to Michael?
A sudden cheer rose from the children clustered near the stage. The big moment had arrived.
The man in the red suit swept in, his beard white as snow, bells jingling with each step. The lodge erupted in applause. Children squealed and rushed forward. Even the adults clapped and laughed as though their own childhoods had just walked through the door.
Timmy and Tyler froze. The boys who had been bouncing in their seats minutes earlier now clung to Ginny’s sleeves, eyes wide with awe.
“He’s…big,” Timmy whispered.
“I’m scared,” Tyler added.
They were practically trembling with trepidation. Jayda smiled at their expressions. Then Michael pushed back and stood, making his way to the twins. He crouched beside them.
“Hey. You know what? Santa’s probably nervous too. Meeting you guys? That’s a big deal for him.”
The boys blinked at him.
“You really think so?” Timmy asked.
Michael nodded. “Absolutely. So maybe you should go shake his hand. Just a handshake. Let him know you’re not scary.”
Slowly, Tyler hopped down and slipped his hand into Michael’s. Timmy followed. And with Michael leading, they walked up to Santa.
Jayda’s breath caught as she watched. Michael knelt, spoke quietly, and encouraged them. He didn’t push, didn’t tease. Just steady encouragement until, at last, both boys extended trembling hands to Santa. Soon the twins were whispering their Christmas wishes into his ear.
It was the first time Jayda had ever seen Michael this way. Gentle. Patient. Caring.
Had she been wrong about him all these years?
She wanted to reject the idea, to cling to her old view of him—the arrogant boy, the dismissive foster brother. But the evidence was standing right in front of her. Michael had put his life on the line for her. And now, here he was, guiding two frightened little boys into joy.
Her throat tightened.
“Family picture!” Ginny called suddenly. “Everyone, come on!”
Chairs scraped as the Blairs gathered near the tree with Santa. And before Jayda knew it, Ginny had tugged her into the lineup—right beside Michael.
“Perfect,” Ginny declared, stepping up beside her husband.
Jayda stiffened, feeling too close. She inched sideways to give him space—and herself. Then she felt his hand slip into hers and squeeze.
Her pulse stuttered.
It felt so right. But that couldn’t be right.
She pulled her hand free just as the photographer snapped the shot. The flash burst across her vision, and she turned to look at him, more stunned by the way she was feeling than the bright light.
Neither of them smiled, only stared at each other. Something between them had changed that day. Is this what a life-or-death situation did to people? All she wanted to do was let him hold her again.
The shocking thought caused her to step away, putting space between them.
Then Simon appeared at her side.
“Jayda,” he said as the family began to disperse. “Train’s leaving soon. Want me to walk you back to the station?”
Jayda hesitated. She didn’t dare look at Michael. She couldn’t bear the weight of his eyes on her, not after what had just passed between them.
So she turned to Simon and slid her hand through his looped arm. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”
They made their way to the exit while Christmas music followed them out, bright and merry, but it felt like a mockery to how she was feeling—like a traitor.
Michael had never been good at pretending, and he wasn’t about to pretend everything between him and Jayda hadn’t changed today.
For years, their relationship had been built on teasing that went too far. A constant competition to prove who could stand taller in the house his parents had made for both of them. He’d always told himself it was sibling rivalry, nothing more.
But they weren’t siblings. Not really.
And the way his chest had nearly torn apart watching her walk out of the lodge with Simon—this feeling had nothing to do with sibling anything.
The night air bit against his skin as they moved in a cheerful little herd.
Ginny linked arms with Ed, the twins skipping ahead, their laughter rising above the jingle of bells from a street performer.
Lights sparkled from every lamppost. Holiday music drifted from shop doors as crowds hurried home with packages.
Michael tried to fix his eyes on the normalcy of it all. Pretend the world hadn’t tilted on its axis tonight. Pretend men weren’t hunting them, that Jayda hadn’t nearly been killed in his arms. Pretend his heart wasn’t battering itself against his ribs.
“Michael.”
His mother’s voice cut gently into his thoughts. Ginny had slowed, letting the others walk ahead. She slipped her gloved hand through his arm, her head tilting toward him.
“You’ve been quiet tonight.”
He forced a shrug. “Long day.”
She studied him with her all-knowing mother’s gaze, the kind that never missed a beat. “You and Jayda…something feels different.”
Michael’s heart stuttered. He kept his eyes straight ahead, on the glowing arch of the station entrance. “Different how?”