Free Caught for Christmas by Skye Warren Page A

really gets easier. It’s just less of a surprise.
    He pauses, his expression guarded. “We found the motel room they’d been renting. It had some schematics of the Grand and other items that identify them.”
    Guilt and shame war within me. I’m embarrassed that I ever tried to rob the club. I’m glad we failed. The Grand was never really at risk anyway. We only got that far inside because West had been setting a trap.
    I fold my arms across myself. “Maybe you could just… let them go. They didn’t take anything.”
    His expression is dark. “That’s not the problem.”
    Realization dawns. “The money. Fifty thousand dollars. That’s what they told me Jeb owed the Caivano family. Maisie said…she said they were holding him hostage until they got their money.”
    “The Caivano family doesn’t take hostages.”
    “No,” I agree quietly. If I had been thinking straight I might have realized that. The Caivano family isn’t known for their patience. Or their mercy. They would have killed Jeb if they could have gotten their hands on him. “Maisie showed me his ring as proof that he was taken. I was so worried.”
    My voice cracks on the last word. It makes my stomach turn over to think about them planning to con me—about him giving her his ring just to make sure I went through with the job. I’m a fool for ever worrying about him.
    For ever loving him, even if he is my father.
    Anger flashes through West’s eyes. “With them gone…”
    With them gone, the Caivanos will be out for blood. And I’m the only one left. “So I’m in trouble,” I say, trying to sound light.
    I want him to tell me I’m wrong. I want him to tell me I’m safe.
    “Your apartment was searched,” he says instead.
    My stomach turns over as I imagine my crappy apartment in tatters. There wasn’t much there—my clothes and some old pictures. Piles of yarn that I mostly unravel from antique clothing I find at garage sales.
    My throat feels tight. “I guess it was always going to end like this.”
    West’s expression is fierce. “No one will touch you.”
    I shake my head while he’s speaking, because he can’t protect me forever. “Don’t worry about me.” My voice rings false. “I’ve looked after myself this long.”
    “You’ll stay here,” he says. “We’re looking for your parents, and Blue has contacts with the Caivano family to see if we can work something out. I’m looking after you now.”
    Even the conviction in his words can’t comfort me now.
    Panic has been steadily building. I feel violated. I feel terrified.
    I want more popcorn and more wrestling. I want more of that foreign, bursting feeling inside my chest. Stolen moments before I have to return the wreckage of my own life. So I nod in silence.
    His arm tightens around me. He says nothing either.
    There are no promises made, no lies I can pretend to believe. As soon as this interlude is over, I’ll be back on the street—penniless and, after my apartment was sacked, homeless. The people looking for me will find me then.

Chapter Eighteen
    F or that day and the next we exist in a bubble full of great food and great sex. By tacit agreement we both avoid talking about my parents or Ivan or anything too sharp.
    When I sit down for dinner a few days later, I know the bubble has burst.
    The food looks amazing—steaks and a crisp, green asparagus. There’s a small chocolate cake waiting to be cut into. A hidden stereo system streams the “Christmas Canon.” It’s almost a celebration, but I’m not fooled. There’s something simmering beneath the surface.
    It feels more like a last meal.
    “What’s wrong?” I ask West’s back. He hasn’t turned from the salad he’s tossing even though I know he senses me here. He always seems to know where I am.
    When he turns, I see the truth in his expression. It’s time for me to leave. “I have to go out,” he says instead. And I’m surprised but not relieved—I feel the end drawing near.
    “Did