It made me giggle a little. “I did steal you. And I threatened two agents.”
He snorted against my arm. “Okay, yeah, I remember that.”
“I’ve already put the order in for new identities,” I whispered, rubbing my bearded chin against his head. “We can figure out the details after Christmas. And if we decide not to leave, at least we’ve got the option to.” It was always a good back up to have, an identification that Sanctum didn’t have.
“Can I pick a name?” he asked
I agreed, but I knew it didn’t quite work like that.
***
News about the dummy and the dye packs spread like wildfire, fueling the flames that I was responsible. Ezra’s legal team didn’t like it one bit, especially Riley. They were furious because of their role in PR. It made Ezra look more like a victim, which they appreciated to some extent and hated in others. The idea that Nexovex might claim Ezra was under duress had been the main point they’d wanted to counter.
We got burner phones and calls from their team most days leading up to Christmas. There was no way they were getting a date for the hearing this side of the New Year. Their main focus was on making sure Ezra’s name stayed out of the news—and it had. Not a single person was mentioning him. Me, on the other hand... everyone was talking about Jacques Harlan. I’d already sent letters to my sister, telling her not to engage in it and that I was fine. She couldn’t reply because I didn’t leave return addresses on anything.
Ezra was on the phone to his team in the living room as I occupied myself in the kitchen, making bread. I never thought I’d end up making bread, of all things. It was just calming to my brain—all the ingredients, the precision, the timing, it satisfied me from all the ways I’d been trained.
“We have a date?” His words echoed to me as I sat on the floor, staring into the darkened window of the oven.
I scrambled to my feet. “There’s a date?”
“They’ve really set a date?” He was screaming now.
I raced over to him. I needed to know. “Seriously?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
It was a Christmas miracle. The date had been set. First week of January. Depositions. The team were having it take place near their New York offices, and we were close enough to take a car. I could see how excited it had made Ezra, but there was still so much that could happen before then. And I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
Once the call ended, we trashed the phone. Smashed it up. It was therapy for Ezra, I think. He was a ball of fire when it came down to it, but then his sweetness came back when he was cuddled up to me.
The bread burned, sending an acrid smell through the place—with no fire alarms at all we had to keep the door open to aerate the place. But the bread was still tasty,pre-toasted, Ezra proclaimed. He’d even joked that he should make Christmas dinner, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was going to make it the most magical day for him.
“It’s all going to be over soon,” I said. “You gotta start thinking of where we’re gonna go.”
“Thailand,” he laughed. “You forgot our plan already?”
“Maybe all the smoke got to me.” It was hard not to grab him, squeeze him, and plant my kisses across his face. It was a show of force, and of how much bigger than him I was. I think he liked being so small in comparison. “We’ve got to clean out a couple of accounts first, then that’s where we’ll go.” I owed a lot of people a lot of money for their help. It wasn’t cheap being this well protected.
20. EZRA
The whole point of exploding that stupid dummy was to find out who was trying to kill me. Jacques had his own ideas on who it could’ve been, claiming the Feds didn’t look out for anyone but themselves and they were easily bought. I’d never dealt with the FBI or anyone else for that matter before, so I believed every word he said, because he had my back and so far hadn’t lied to me.
There was a light at the end of all this. The legal team had given me a date, and now, all we had to do was wait.
Christmas came and we actually decorated the tree a little. I’d hoped we’d be out of here before then, but we were still here, stilltaking respite in the cold between the dumpsters every night. The dummy and those dye bags continued to be the talk of the town—everyone wanted to know, and yet my name wasn’t on their lips. Jacques told me that was a good thing.
There was a sadness over my head on Christmas morning. I didn’t set an alarm. I didn’t wake excited like I had every Christmas, even as an adult. I knew I could always expect a call from my father’s mom, my favorite relative, and she’d usually send a card—which I wasn’t getting this year. I wondered if my parents had even tried calling.
Jacques wasn’t in bed and it gave me time to fester in the comfort of the darkened room for a moment, knowing today was supposed to be all Hallmark and happy, and I was stuck inside dark and... a little dreamy. There was a nice smell, though, wafting in through the slightly open door. I almost hit myself for trying to romanticize my folks. They’d probably tried calling once and then called it day. I pulled the covers over my face and lay in complete darkness until I heard him approaching.
“Kitten.” His words pulled me right out of the funk I was in. “What are you doing hiding under there?” He pulled back the covers and climbed onto the bed, his warm body wrapping behind mine. I wished we could’ve stayed in that moment forever, but time was a bitch. “I’ve made pancakes, sausage, bacon, and some cheesy scrambled eggs.” He gnawed at my ear playfully makingnoms.
Giggling, I fought against him, playing. My stomach rumbled. I was hangry—and it was Christmas. “Merry Christmas,” I said. “I didn’t—”
He kissed me. “Merry Christmas,” he said. “And I got you something.”
“Yeah, but I—” I was cut off with another kiss. “I didn’t get you anything.”
