Page 23 of Christmas Past
“Yes.” His tone warned her to let it go.
She knew she couldn’t. She didn’t know why. But she knew.
“How were they killed?”
“In a home invasion. Right before Christmas. A robbery gone bad.”
She didn’t say anymore for a few minutes. Just started sealing and then capping dispensers, taking care to make sure that the spouts were in locked positions. When, after a few minutes, Chad followed suit, she knew he was still with her.
“That’s why you’re a cop, isn’t it?” she asked. “Because you couldn’t stop what happened to your mom and dad, but you could spend the rest of your life protecting all the people like them from the same thing happening. You’d lost your family, but you could somehow make that okay, by saving others. That’s why Christmas Town works for you. Because it’s filled with families who haven’t lost hope. Like you have.”
He broke a cap. Twisted it right in half. She handed him another.
“Get out of my head, Lady. I didn’t invite you in, and I don’t want you here.”
His words hurt. A lot.
But she pushed the pain away.
Camille needed her to not take Chad’s words to heart.
And maybe Chad needed some time to figure out what he needed, too.
Chapter 9
He looked at her, pulling on his uniform over his sweats and T-shirt.
Chad lay awake long after Bella’s breathing evened out signifying sleep that night. There’d been no discussion about his position on the floor beside her bed.
She’d felt a stab of fear earlier that evening. The pain in her foot was constant.
He’d stick it out for as long as it took.
Protecting the innocent was what he lived for.
He’d just never cared so…personally…before.
Not since the night they’d told him his parents had been found dead in their Manhattan high rise apartment. He swallowed bile.
Why had she brought that all back?
The past was past. And for him that meant Christmas was past, too.
Bella wasn’t celebrating. Like him, she had no one to hide presents under the tree for her. Or for her to hide for. He understood why. Yet…felt sad for her. She’d loved the holiday.
He supposed, he had too. Once upon a time.
He lay awake, picturing how she’d make the cottage look if she did choose to celebrate. The colors would be more muted than the glitzy tree his parents had always purchased and had delivered pre-decorated. Ornaments would be home made. There’d be strings of popcorn and…
He turned over on the bed of pillows he’d found laid for him when he’d come in from the bathroom that night. Cushions from the couch, actually. With a sheet on them.
She’d already been in the bed with the light out and her back turned.
He’d been lying there, wide awake ever since. Hearing her move up on the bed. Wishing he could do something to take away her innate sadness.
She gasped. Sitting up, Chad was sure she was awake. But, though she was facing him, she didn’t open her eyes. Her breathing was ragged. She’d thrown off the covers and her face and neck, her pajamas, were drenched with sweat.
Thinking she was sick, he reached out to feel her skin and she screamed. A sound that didn’t seem to come from her. It was high and shrill. Almost…childlike.
