Elle James

Her Christmas Hero


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vacant again.

      Laurel looked through the windshield, right, then left, then behind. Tension shivered between them.

      Garrett maneuvered onto the deserted street, still without headlights. Trouble had gone to sleep. He didn’t plan on anyone waking up as they left town.

      He didn’t need lights to see anyway. The church auxiliary had gone and wrapped every lamppost and streetlight with garland and twinkle lights, ribbon and tinsel. With each gust of wind the decorations clattered against metal, leaving his neck tense and his hair standing on end.

      He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. God, he hated Christmas. Hated the memories it evoked. But at least the bulbs lit their way through Trouble.

      “Where are we going?” Laurel asked, still alert and searching the surrounding landscape for anything out of the ordinary.

      “The middle of nowhere,” Garrett said. “Even though some consider Trouble just this side of nowhere.”

      The vehicle left the city limits, only a black expanse in front of them. This part of West Texas could seem like the end of the world at night, the only light the moon and stars above.

      “They’ll keep looking for us,” Laurel said. “They want us dead.”

      “No question.” Garrett watched the rearview mirror, but no lights pierced the black Texas night. So far, so good.

      Laurel shifted in her seat beside him, peering out the front windshield. “It’s so—”

      “Dark?” Garrett finished.

      She glanced over at him, her face barely visible from the light of the dashboard dials. “I’ve never seen the sky so black.”

      “When I first moved here from the East Coast, I couldn’t get over how bright the stars shone or how dark the countryside could be.”

      “You didn’t grow up around here?”

      Garrett quirked a smile. “I was an army brat. I’m from everywhere, but we were never stationed in Texas.”

      Laurel’s eyebrow quirked up. “I’d have taken you for a Texas cowboy.”

      “I was for a while.”

      But not anymore.

      Garrett focused on the white lines of the road reflecting in the moonlight. No lights for miles around. The tension in his back eased a bit. They were alone.

      “It’s spooky,” Laurel said, her voice barely a whisper. “No sign of civilization.”

      “You lived on the East Coast all your life?” he asked.

      “Dad’s job has always been headquartered in D.C. He’d leave town...” Her voice choked. “Someone has to know where he was,” she said.

      Garrett had been mulling that over. James had been his sole contact since Garrett’s attack. He had no backup. No one he could trust.

      “What about Fiona?” Laurel’s voice broke through the night.

      “You know about her?”

      “I’m not supposed to. Dad tried to keep his personal life separate, but a few years ago, we caught them at a restaurant. They looked really happy. I’m surprised he hasn’t married her. From what we figured out, he’s dated her for at least five years.”

      “More like six,” Garrett said. “Though I’m surprised he took her out into public. They work together. That was a huge risk.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fiona might be the only person we can trust. She could get at his travel records.”

      “She could get him backup.” Laurel flipped open a cell phone. “He needs help.”

      “What are you doing?”

      “It’s prepaid,” she said. “I’m not stupid.”

      Garrett snatched the phone from her. “Not from here. I have equipment we can use to call her. It’s more secure. For both of us. We don’t want to place her in danger either.”

      “Dad needs help now.”

      “James either made it out of that situation alive and is hiding, or there’s nothing we can do to help him.”

      A small gasp escaped from her. Garrett cursed himself, lowering his voice. “Look, I don’t mean to be callous, but your dad wanted you safe. That meant more to him than his life or he wouldn’t have called. We have to be careful, Laurel. We’re alone in this right now, and we have to choose our allies carefully. One slipup...” He let the words go unsaid.

      One mistake and they’d finish the job on him and Laurel and Molly would vanish without a trace.

      “I understand,” she said finally, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t have to like it.” She twisted in her seat. “So, this place we’re going... How’d you get a secure system?”

      “Your dad set it up while I was...incapacitated.”

      Almost dead.

      A small dirt road loomed at the right. Garrett passed it by, drove another ten miles, then pulled off onto a county road heading toward a mine.

      “Are we getting close?”

      “As close as things get in West Texas,” Garrett said. He turned off the lights and the motor. The residual heat would keep them warm for a while.

      “We’re stopping? We’re not that far from town.”

      Garrett leaned back in his seat and turned his head. “We’re waiting. If your tail followed, they should show up soon enough.”

      Thirty minutes later, the air in the vehicle had chilled. Molly whined in the backseat, wrapping the blanket tighter around her. Garrett cast one last look down the desolate road, then turned the key, and the engine purred to life. He pulled onto the highway, heading back in the direction they’d come.

      “You’re cautious,” Laurel said.

      “I’m alive when I shouldn’t be.” Words more true than he could ever articulate.

      “Who are you? Really.” She shifted and moonlight illuminated her suspicious expression. “Why did Ivy send me to you?”

      The tires vibrated over the blacktop. Garrett refused to let the question distract him. The men following her were good, and he couldn’t risk them being seen. Besides, he couldn’t tell her. He knew James wouldn’t have mentioned his new identity, and if Garrett revealed his previous name, she’d recognize it. As a traitor and a spy.

      James had given testimony about Garrett’s many infractions. The world had believed the agency’s statements. Congress and the covert community trusted James McCallister. Without fail. He might not be a man the public would ever recognize, but in the intelligence community, James McCallister was a legend. The man’s lies had saved Garrett’s life. And made it so he could never go back. Not unless he wanted a target on his back.

      Laurel would have every right to run once she learned the truth, but he couldn’t allow that. James’s call had done more than warn them. James had risked Garrett’s life—and his own—to save the McCallister family. Garrett wouldn’t let him down. He owed James too much. He owed the men who had killed his wife and daughter, Laurel’s sister and her family—and maybe James—justice. Not courtroom justice, though. The kind that couldn’t be bought or bargained for.

      “Let’s call me a friend and leave it at that,” Garrett finally said. “A friend who will try to keep you safe.”

      “A friend,” Laurel mused. “Why doesn’t your comment engender me with faith?”

      Garrett gripped the steering wheel tight.

      “You came to me, Laurel.”

      “And if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be putting our lives