Page 43 of Festive Fugitive
“Quite sure,” he says, grinning at me, but his gaze drifts off when the automatic doors open and a tall man in a burgundy suit and wooden mask depicting a stylized reindeer muzzle steps out, ranting on his phone. I’ve never owned clothing that fine. Maybe, I could get something of that quality for my wedding, but that’s about it.
“Is this myPretty Womanmoment? Next thing I know, you’ll be buying me a suit like that guy’s,” I laugh and lead the way in, though Cesar is instantly alarmed and puts his arm around me to secure my wobbly walk. He got me a simple brace and pain meds, so I’m not even hurting, but that doesn’t mean he takes care of me any less than before. I’m quite certain that if he didn’t want to be more discreet, he would be carrying me all the way to my room.
The foyer’s an upscale version of a lodge, with a floor of smooth stone, and the faint scent of winter berries hanging in the air as the guests socialize, have drinks by tables set up all over the area, or read.
Not everyone is masked, but Cesar and I are the worst-dressed people in the lobby. I fear everyone might be judging us, but my man approaches the reception as if he truly belongs here.
As he sorts out the details of our stay, I look around this festive heaven. It’s a mix of luxury and rustic elements. Elegant armchairs upholstered with plaid fabric stand in front of a fireplace, and a deer trophy overlooks the men having drinks there. I can’t wait to see our room, but I hope it will have a few Christmas decorations too.
I can almost forget that I’m a wanted criminal.
Tonight it’s just me and my boyfriend who seems to have a bottomless bank account.
I stand by a wooden pillar, trying not to draw attention to myself, but a part of me still worries someone mightrecognize me by the shape of my eyes, so it’s a relief when Cesar grabs my hand and leads me to the elevator.
Our room is on the top floor, and when I step in, the amount of space shocks me.
Just like downstairs, the furnishings are simple in form but luxurious. The bed is massive. The coffee table is made from a slab of raw wood. Two armchairs face our very own fireplace, and the TV mounted on the wall is larger than any I’ve ever owned myself.
I feel like a beggar invited to a palace.
“You know what? If the cops get me after this, I would have still felt that at least Ilived.” My heart beats faster when I spot a Christmas tree by the large balcony door and I now realize that we are not only about to enjoy Christmas Eve at this incredible place. This is where we will also welcome ChristmasDay.
I might be the happiest fugitive who ever lived.
I’m shocked to discover we have a balcony overlooking the falls, which I will be able to admire first thing in the morning, and the bathroom features a tub with water jets.
“Here, let me help you,” Cesar says, pushing me onto the bed, then removing my boots.
“I’m really getting the princess treatment here. Thank you so much.” I stroke his hair as my heart melts. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve him. When he kneels and puts his head in my lap, I’m terrified our happiness might come to an end at any moment, if somebody does recognize us, or if Cesar decides I am not in fact worth all this hassle. But I want to trust him with my heart, and with my body, and soon enough, my fears quiet down.
We’ve ordered a ridiculous amount of food from a menu that doesn’t contain a price list, but at this point I am in for the ride. Who am I to question the contents of my man’s wallet? If he wants to treat me, I’ll let him.
I turn on the TV and start skipping through news channels as I stuff my mouth with a piece of cranberry pie with some alcohol in it. I hopenotto find anything about the Festive Fugitive. It’s been over two weeks, and there’s a chance interest in me has died down in favor of exploring the depths of depravity discovered in Sullivan’s basement. Cesar has fed me titbits of ‘positive’ information about the case, like people siding with me as the public opinion dissected my father’s legal case against Sullivan, or speculation that Sullivan tortured me, and I just lost it in an act of revenge. Which is not untrue.
The reveal of my sexuality has apparently stirred up the public’s interest in me, causing some people to speculate that I was Sullivan’s sugar baby, or something. Cesar didn’t want to show me most of those, but he did treat me to some funny memes about how I ‘slay’. I also rather enjoyed the disses thrown at Spencer who decided to have his five minutes of fame on the back of my infamy. His other exes came out of the woodwork to spill all about how shitty of a boyfriend he was.
I never wanted my face all over the news, so I’m glad when instead of yet more segments about the chase, I see lovely videos from Christmas markets all around the world. I’m about to turn to some music channel when a familiar face appears on the screen.
It’s my fuckingaunt.
Despite it being such a happy season, she’s in black, as if she’s intent on expressing to the whole nation just how sad she is over my crimes. She’s grown out her hair since I last saw her, and I’m happy the new fluffy hairstyle doesn’t suit her.
She and the reporter are exchanging the usual set of questions and answers.
How does the family feel about this?
Does the situation affect how they’re spending the holidays?
Does she have anything to say to her nephew, if he’s watching? That, obviously, isturn yourself in.
Fat fucking chance.
But as unpleasant as it is to see her again, when my aunt starts to outright lie about our past relationship, my brain stews inside my skull.
“Yes, a year ago, we were still letting him stay with us, but he’s always had anger issues, and we worried about our kids. But in the end, he just chose to disappear. He’s very… troubled.”
“Anger issues?” I yell, getting up so fast I almost spill my delicious mulled wine. “I can fucking show her anger issues! You know what she did? Her and her fucking husband used me for a year in their house like some fucking Cinderella just so I had a place to sleep. And that was in their garage by the way. I cooked, cleaned, served as a nanny, a chauffeur for their kids, their delivery boy, dogwalker, and everything you can damn imagine. And then theykicked me outright before Christmas last year because they wanted to inviteotherfamily over and needed the space!”
