Phantom: A Winter Stalker Romance by K.M. Mixon

Author:K.M. Mixon [Mixon, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Last Christmas

Pierce

She’s on the couch in front of the fire. She’s got hot cocoa in her mug, blowing it absently as I string strand after strand of lights onto the tree. It’s clear she doesn’t want it here, and that I fucked up by bringing it inside. I hadn’t known. Part of me thinks I should have abandoned the plan once I saw her face at my question of whether she liked Christmas. Something awful in her past is tied to the day, and it’s becoming clearer the more she draws into herself.

It's leaving me feeling quite defeated.

After another backward glance at her, I sigh and drop the lights to the ground abruptly. Stepping over the box of decorations, I sit on the plush ottoman in front of her.

She rouses from wherever she’d been in her mind. “What, are you done already?” A quick glance over my shoulder shows her the barely decorated tree.

“I’ll get rid of it first thing in the morning,” I tell her, and her mouth drops open. “I didn’t know that there was something nagging you about Christmas, but the more that I watch you, the more I know there is.”

She looks at the tree again. “No. You’re stuck here, too. It’s your Christmas, too. You should have a tree if you want it.”

She nods at herself, confident in her decision.

She’s never been put first, and it shows. She’s never had someone see her—see her soul and all its darkness—and want to protect her.

“It was a foolish idea. I thought it would bring something into the house... I don’t know where it came from, honestly.” I turn and look at the tree. The living room is a fucking mess of decorations that were broken and lights that hadn’t worked thrown askew.

“It was a touching notion, Pierce. It’s just... I’m too fucked up for whimsy and magic.”

“You don’t have to tell me. But you can’t let anyone ruin the things you love because it gives them too much of your power, Hazel.”

She looks up, setting her cocoa down on a small, thin-legged table next to the chair. It had been my mom’s favorite chair to read in. She’d often fall asleep here. Dad would wake her and lead her to bed. That was before they decided that twenty years wasn’t worth fighting for any longer and split up.

It changed them both. Divorce does ugly things to everyone it touches. But it’s a way of life for me.

“You know, I’ve never looked at it that way?” she mumbles.

“I try my hardest not to give things any more power than they deserve over me. Some days, it’s hard. I’ll be honest with you,” I admit, sighing and wiping my sweaty palms down my jeans.

“I would say you seem well-adjusted, but you’ve been lurking through the walls, and you’re still wearing a mask, so...”

A laugh bursts out of me before I can over think it, and she smiles. It’s the second genuine smile she’s given me, and I’m thankful for it.

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