Page 39 of Santa's Dark Secret

My heart races as I get the feeling something isn’t right here, and I sit up fully before throwing the blankets right back and immediately regretting it. It’s fucking freezing.

My nipples harden for all the wrong reasons, and I hastily wrap my arms around myself as I stumble out of the bed. I’m still wearing the silk gown I was wearing on the rooftop with Nick, so I guess that’s a positive that nobody has attempted to take it off me. However, it’s not as though I was wearing anything beneath it. I’m naked under this thin piece of material, and that’s not exactly offering me a lot of confidence.

Just how long have I been passed out? And more importantly, has someone taken advantage of me while I wasn’t able to defend myself?

I try to take stock of my body, feeling around to make sure everything is as it should be. Everything is sore, and yet after the wild night I just spent with Nick, it’s impossible to tell if that’s him I’m still feeling or if something a little more sinister is going on.

I begin padding around the room with my arms locked protectively around my body, trying to keep warm, but with every single step, it becomes even more clear that something is off here. My heart races faster, and unease pulses through my veins as I pause in front of the huge window in the bedroom.

“Holy fucking shit.”

The view of New York City I expected has changed. Instead of city lights over slushy streets, I find myself looking out at an expanse of snowcapped hills. There are reindeer everywhere, completely unaware of the way I’m starting to freak out.

Reindeer could only mean one thing.

This is all Nick’s doing.

He brought me here. He’s responsible for . . . whatever the fuck this is. It’s clear as day I’m no longer in New York, but what about the United States? Am I still in the country I was raised in and have called home for the past twenty-seven years?

Holy shit. This is not happening. I wasn’t knocked out by accident. Nick did this.

I know I asked to be with him, to be his, but I never realized that meant having my world stripped away. Sure. the life I had in New York wasn’t amazing. I was miserable most of the time, but it was mine. I created it and despite everything, I was proud of what little I’d accomplished on me own and now … it’s just gone. New York is the resting place of my parents. It’s where I grew up, where I went to school, and had my first kiss. It’s my home, and in a matter of seconds, it was stripped away from me. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

What have I done?

Horror begins pounding at my chest, and I hastily move around the room, finding a bathroom and then a huge walk-in closet. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen, and yet every piece of clothing inside is either black or Santa Claus red.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

With the cold threatening to take me out, I have no choice but to grab one of Nick’s oversized hoodies and a pair of sweatpants. I quickly pull them on, not exactly thrilled about the way the material swims on me, but it’s all I’ve got to work with right now. Searching through drawers, I find some socks and a pair of boots before dropping down to my ass to pull them on.

The socks are everything I never knew I needed, and in my panic of realizing Nick has potentially kidnapped me, I hadn’t even realized just how frozen my feet had become. But these socks . . . shit. They’re just like the blanket on the bed, hand-crafted specifically for my warmth.

After pulling on the boots, I get to my feet. I’m not exactly thrilled about their fit either. Nick is huge, and naturally, so are his boots, but if I plan on surviving the weather out there, I’m going to need something a little sturdier than my silk gown to keep me warm.

With equal parts determination and anxiety, I make my way to the bedroom door, more than ready to face whatever stands in my way. Only as I reach for the door handle, I pause.

I hadn’t exactly thought about what lies on the other side of this door, but now that I’m standing here, ready to barge through it, I’m not quite feeling so confident. What if Nick is standing on the other side waiting for me? What if it’s not Nick at all? What if I’m about to be faced with something horrible?

Fuck me. How did I get myself into this situation?

I should have known better. When the mystery guy who visited me every Christmas Eve admitted that he has some slight stalker tendencies, I should have seen that as a blazing red flag. However, I’ve been so deprived of love and affection, so desperate to feel something, that I didn’t even notice how fucked up it was. All that mattered was how good the sex was, how fast my heart raced around him, and how quickly Christmas would come around again. I was all for it. Ready to hand myself over to a fucking psychopath.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I keep ending up with men who are batshit crazy? Though to be fair to my ex, he wasn’t crazy. He was just an asshole. But apparently, Nick is too. I should have heeded his warnings when he said he was the black sheep of the family. He told me point-blank that he was an asshole, that the people who know him tolerate him out of fear, and all I did was bat my fucking eyelashes at the guy and beg him to take me again.

If I ever make it out of here, I should see to it that I’m committed, straitjacket and all.

Realizing there’s no time quite like the present, I try to ignore the nerves infecting my body and slowly begin to open the bedroom door. The house seems too silent, and I find myself holding my breath and listening to every little noise as the door inches open.

It doesn’t sound like there’s anyone here, and as the door opens just enough for me to peek through the gap, I take a hasty look around, making sure no little whore elves are about to jump out at me. Nick said there were no elves, but honestly, that really shattered my illusion of Christmas. I was all for the whore elves.

Positive that I’m alone, I pull the door all the way open and slowly step out into the main part of the house.

It’s fucking massive.

No one on this green earth needs a home this fucking big, but hell, if anyone would, why wouldn’t it be the Grinch who masquerades as jolly old Saint Nick?

Fucking asshole.

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