Page 53 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
He must truly hate me.
The woman introduces herself as Julia and leads us through a shop with all types of Christmas crap. I have to admit it has nothing on Nico’s Winter Emporium. While this place is all plastic, glitter glue, and smells of old donut oil, Nico’s shop is the epitome of Christmas magic. All those handmade toys, the miniature train, the local sweet treats, and the scent of pine and orange encompassing it all create a place that really is beyond time and therefore can get away with being an all-year-round Christmas shop.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about how amazing his lovely shop is, and what a great atmosphere he has created when he just threw us both into the clutches of Julia’s glittery green nails. If Nico thinks I’ll be dressing up as an elf ever again, he has another thing coming.
“Thank you for doing this, guys,” Julia tells us, leading us past the man working at the pop-up Christmas store’s cash register, and into the back rooms. “You are a Godsend. The kids would be so disappointed if it wasn’t for you.”
“How long willthis take?” I ask, trying not to sound overtly abrasive as she opens the door leading into a cluttered storage room with piles of boxes and rails surrounding a sparse area close to the entrance. It can’t be bigger than my bathroom back at home.
“Oh, just three hours, once you start at midday. Then, after an hour’s break, another three hours.”
That’s it, we are getting out of here as soon as she leaves.
But when Julia closes the door behind her, leaving us in the dim light of a single light bulb swinging from a cable above us, Nico starts undressing to change into the Santa outfit waiting for him on a hanger. Un-fucking-believable.
I swear he’s doing this on purpose, because my mouth goes dry at the sight of his chest, and I’m struggling to spit out all the venom on my tongue.
“Why are we going to Aspen if you hate me this much?” comes out of my mouth the moment she’s out.
“What? I’m doing what you asked me to, since you claim I can’t love you unless I kill him.” Nico squints at me and his nostrils flare at a deep inhale.
My face twists. “Yes, and to do that, we need to be in Aspen tomorrow, and not dead-tired. Why would you agree to this job?” I ask, gesturing at the open red jacket he already put over his bare chest, about to hide all that tempting body hair.
To make things worse, we’re forced to stand so close in this damn storage room I can smell his cologne, and it’s confusing my body when I should be thinking with my brain only. It’s like being on a diet and walking past a bakery.
Nico frowns. “It’s the right thing to do. Did you see all those kids out there? They’ll be disappointed. I can’tnotsave Christmas.”
He really believes this shit. That he’s a decent human being, not a killer on the way to commitmoremurder.
“What about savingmyChristmas? Since I actually know what kind of person you are? No need for a fake beard and costumes.”
“And what kind of person am I, huh?” Nico asks without a hint of a smile left. Instead, his eyes are ice cold. Which doesn’t make him any less handsome, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I swallow, feeling a bit faint, because I’m sharing a small space with a predator. “Why are you pretending to be Mr. Nice Guy, when we both know you enjoy killing and torture?” I ask, lowering my voice.
He hums, taking his time to think through my question as if it were a tricky one. All I want is to force him out of this room so we can get back on the road. It’s really not that complicated.
“Iamnice. Maybe I want to remind you of that.” Nico swallows. “I could beyourMr. Nice Guy. I guess the surprise in the cave was a bit of a misfire on my part. You don’t need to see any of that if you don’t want to, and we can date in normal ways.”
What is he even talking about? There will be no normalcy between me and him. He’s a criminal I’m unhealthily fascinated by, and there’s no pushing the truth back into the closet after I’ve seen what he is.
I rub my face, because I can’t think straight when he’s in front of me, half-naked. I’ve been spending hours in his company, constantly breathing in his scent yet denied touch. At this point, I would lie, steal, and cheat for a tasteof him. But he deserves the truth, or we’ll never be past this. “Nico, I can’tdateyou. You’re a serial killer.”
My stomach clenches when a darkness settles in his blue eyes. I don’t know if it’s a trick of light because the bulb above us gives such stark illumination, or just because he’s lowered his eyelids, but it feels unnatural. His jaw tightens, and he inhales deeply, which only makes me avoid staring at his pecs, because they’re all too close and all too tempting.
“You can’t date me, but youcanfuck me? Fuck a serial killer?” his voice is like a boulder weighing on my heart, and I take a step back, a mouse fallen into a lion’s cage.
He can’t be so deeply in denial. I’m a normal person, who wants to live a fun, carefree life. I don’t want to have to watch my back, or worry for him, or fear what he might do when one day he loses interest in me.
He’s a serial killer. What else can I expect?
“That’s different.”
He stares me down. “I think I get it. You love the danger. You like the Christmas Killer, but notme.”
It feels like a slap, and I shake my head, because that’s not true at all. “What are you talking about? I do like you!”
Nico cracks his neck with a sneer. “Likeme? How can you like me? You don’t even like Christmas!”
