Page 9 of Bought By Santa

“So what are we waiting for?” I purr.

My words seem to break the control he has on himself, because he shoots out of his seat, dragging me with him. I almoststumble on my heels in my attempt at keeping up with him as we weave our way toward the exit.

After getting our coats, we step outside. The frigid air slaps my cheeks, painting them with a rosy hue that belies the darkness churning inside me. I glance up at the night sky, searching for stars but finding only the void. It’s fitting, somehow.

We stay outside the club for almost half an hour, long enough for my hands to start shaking. As we wait for cabs to drive by, more and more people join us, making it clear this is going to turn into a bloodbath.

As though he’s reading my thoughts, my date says, “I don’t live that far. Do you mind if we walk?”

I shake my head and give him a blinding smile as I let him lead me through the mostly empty streets.

The city’s pulse fades behind us, replaced by the eerie quiet of streets less traveled. He’s navigating with a confidence that doesn’t match the knot of apprehension tightening in my gut. “Are you sure this is the right way?” My voice is steady, betraying none of the anxiety that claws at me.

“Shortcut,” he grins. “Trust me.”

I don’t. But I nod, feigning ease. He doesn’t look like a psycho, but I still slide my free hand into my purse, palming the pepper spray in case I need it.

The buildings here are cloaked in shadows, their stories untold and uninviting. We turn another corner. “Almost there,” he promises, but the darkness seems to swallow his words.

Then, they’re there—two figures looming out of the night like omens. They stand beneath a flickering streetlight, dressed as Santa Claus, their beards unnaturally white against the backdrop of the urban wasteland. But these aren’t the jolly old elves of childhood tales; their eyes are cold, their stances predatory.

“Shit,” I whisper, my breath fogging into the air. He follows my gaze, the atmosphere charged with sudden tension.

“Who—” he begins, but the Santas move.

One steps forward, reaching into the depths of his red coat, and my blood runs ice-cold with anticipation. Fear seizes me, a merciless grip that tightens around my throat. The festive costumes are a grotesque mockery, and my instincts scream that these men are harbingers of violence.

“Let’s go!” I hiss, panic giving my voice an unfamiliar edge. But it’s too late—the false cheer of their apparel can’t mask the danger, and I know, I just know, we’ve stumbled into a nightmare before Christmas.

The tallest Santa’s hand emerges, not with a candy cane or a toy, but with the cold glint of a gun. My body freezes, a deer in headlights, as he levels it at a man kneeling on the pavement. The other Santa looms over him, a judge passing down a sentence.

“Please…” the kneeling man’s voice is a choked sob.

That’s when it happens; my date’s hand leaves mine abruptly. “Fuck this,” he rushes out. I don’t know why I’m surprised when he takes off, but I am.

Although every cell in my body urges me to flee with him, my legs betray me, refusing to move, shackled by the visceral terror gripping me.

My heart pounds out a frantic rhythm, a discordant drumbeat urging me to flee. But my body doesn’t obey; it’s as if my feet have grown roots into the ground, anchoring me to this nightmare.

Panic claws at my throat, sharp and desperate.

What the hell do I do?

What can I do?

Shit, if only my legs were working…

I’m about to die here in this filthy alley, I just know it. Although I can’t see the Santas’ faces, I can see their eyes. As I look from one to the other, I almost wish I couldn’t. The dark orbs are empty, not a modicum of sympathy to be found.

I really am about to die here.

Chapter 5

The Santa

The chill of the December night doesn’t bother me. Not when there’s work to be done. I adjust the faux beard, a ridiculous accessory but necessary. Jack stands beside me, his own Santa accessories equally ludicrous on his towering frame, both of us hidden in plain sight. We’re not wearing this shit to spread holiday cheer, but to make sure no one sees our faces.

Jack chuckles, a low rumble in his throat. “Should’ve brought some elves for the full effect.”

---