Her eyes scanned the room.Some faces were eager.Others looked skeptical.
“I know this is a busy season.And I know asking people to give more when wallets are tighter than ever isn’t easy.But the truth is, we’ve got more families in need this year than ever before.More kids who might not have anything under the tree.”
She paused, taking a breath.Her voice softened.
“When I was little, I remember getting a handmade doll from a local drive.It wasn’t fancy.Yarn hair, button eyes, clothes stitched from someone’s leftover fabric.But I remember thinking it was magic.Because someone out there had cared,” she finished.
Silence met her words.
Ellie smiled faintly and tucked a loose paper back into her folder.
“We still need volunteers for sorting and wrapping, and we’re accepting toy donations until Friday.Any help you can offer, big or small, it matters.”
Principal Garrison nodded from the back.“Thank you, Miss Winters.”
As she returned to her seat, she felt the tension in her shoulders start to ease, just a little.She’d said what she needed to say.
Still, as she sat, Ellie couldn’t stop the thought creeping back in.The bikers.Their laughter.The familiar sound of engines rolling down snowy streets.The memory of her arms around Dasher’s waist.
He wouldn’t be the one to show up for a toy drive, would he?But maybe ...just maybe he would.And if he did, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to see him again.Not after five years.Not after the way he’d left.
Not after she’d finally built a life where she didn’t look over her shoulder, waiting for a man with storm-gray eyes and a grudge against staying still.
But life in Steelhaven had a funny way of stirring up the past.Especially at Christmas.
****
Ellie pulled into thedimly lit lot behind the Iron Sentinels’ storage unit, her headlights sweeping across the dented roll-up door and scattering shadows across the cracked pavement.Her heart sank the moment she noticed the padlock hanging broken, useless, from its metal loop.
“No,” she whispered, killing the engine and throwing the door open.
The cold bit into her as she stepped out, gravel crunching under her boots.She grabbed her phone from the passenger seat with shaking fingers and made her way to the storage unit’s entrance.Her stomach was in knots, dreading what she’d find inside.
A dozen boxes of toys had been packed and sorted over the last few weeks—donations from businesses, teachers, and parents who still believed in the spirit of Christmas.They were for the kids.Some of them wouldn’t be getting anything else this year.
Ellie pulled up the dented door with effort, and it groaned in protest as it rolled open.The sharp fluorescent light flickered above, revealing the chaos inside.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
Boxes were overturned, wrapping paper shredded, toys missing or smashed.Empty cartons littered the floor like someone had taken their time wrecking everything that mattered.
She stood there frozen, blinking back angry tears.The sight hit her like a gut punch.This wasn’t just vandalism.It was personal.Mean.
She dialed the number Beast had given her just yesterday, her voice trembling when he picked up.“It’s Ellie.The unit’s been broken into.The toys ...they’re gone.Or trashed.”
A pause.“Where are you?”
“At the unit now.I just got here.”
“I’ll send someone,” Beast offered.
“Not someone,” she snapped before she could stop herself.“Send you.”
Beast grunted.“I’m finishing something.But I’ll send backup now.Someone I trust.”
Five minutes later, she heard the familiar rumble of a Harley rolling in behind her.Gravel spat out from under the tires as the bike came to a stop.She didn’t turn around at first, already knowing who it was.
The engine cut off.Footsteps followed.
