We Own the Night (The Night Songs Collection Book 3) (33 page)

Read We Own the Night (The Night Songs Collection Book 3) Online

Authors: Kristen Strassel

Tags: #romance

BOOK: We Own the Night (The Night Songs Collection Book 3)
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"Kyndra, where are you going to go? It's Christmas." She sounded as desperate as I felt. I wished I had an answer for her.

"I can head to my aunt's house. She invited me." Of course, I didn't mention my aunt lived forty five minutes away. "It's no big deal."

"Well, as long as you have a place to go." Marcy may or may not have believed me. "I can't bear to think of you on the street on Christmas Eve."

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine." I said more for my own benefit than hers. I called over my shoulder. "Have a good Christmas."

Now what?

All my emergency hiding places would be closed for the holiday. I didn't want to call Matt, that was my last resort. The only thing that could possibly make me feel worse tonight would be having sex with Matt. At least there I wouldn't have to worry about getting in the way of any holiday celebrations. All the cokeheads that squatted in that house probably didn’t even realize it was Christmas.

I wanted to feel every moment of this, sober. I needed to process these feelings in it’s most raw form, then maybe I could start moving forward instead of constantly looking to the past. If I went to Matt's, I'd succumb to whatever he had there just to blur the pain.

No, not tonight. I wasn't going there.

I held in my tears until I was out of Marcy's earshot. They came out fast and ugly as I crossed the street, headed back towards the mall. I sobbed so loudly I was afraid to actually break the silent night and ruin it for everyone. The wind chapped my damp face as I rubbed the tears away with my damp mitten.

This was real. This was happening. This is what I wanted, but not like this. I insisted I wanted to be alone, but what I really wanted someone to swoop in and save me from myself on this miserable night.

But I'd shut out everyone who tried to do just that.

Now the mall looked dark and abandoned. All the lights were out, and the parking garage was gated like a jail. Good, no one would see me. They couldn’t catch me lying. I leaned up against the wall and took the deepest breath I could manage. The cold air felt like knives slicing against my throat, already raw from bawling.

What was I going to do? I hadn't thought this far ahead. I'd just kept my brain busy, hoping that if I thought about other things, this day wouldn't come.

It hadn't worked yet, so why was I still so foolish? I told myself my Memere would get better, even though no one agreed with me. I never thought I'd have nowhere to go, even when the last day I could stay in our senior apartment complex loomed large. And Christmas still came, even though I had nothing to celebrate.

I pushed myself off the cold concrete wall and starting walking without giving much thought to where I was going. Another stupid move. Monsters really did hide in dark places when you were a girl walking alone in the city at night. That's another lesson I'd learned the hard way. I could leave my money in my locker at work, but I couldn't leave my body there. I'd let my guard down before, out of exhaustion and desperation, my defenses blurred thanks to Matt’s Little Helpers, and they knew. I’d been grabbed, swallowed by the shadows where no one could hear me scream, and then left in the dark, dirty, broken, and painfully sober, to pick up the pieces.

Hopefully those bastards would be too busy spreading cheer with their families to attack anyone tonight.

Mulicolored shadows fell on the snow at the intersection. It didn't look like streetlights. Curious, I picked up my pace and headed towards the soft blue and orange glow. All my muscles relaxed when I realized what I was looking at. Stained glass.

Families began to file into the large church for Midnight Mass. A tall, proud stone building welcomed all without judgement. Even me. Memere had gone to church religiously. That had been one of our jokes. But once I was old enough to have a say, she couldn't talk me into going with her anymore.

I headed in, curious to see if there really was a God. Maybe Memere was right all along. This was how we'd spend Christmas Eve together this year.

I smiled to no one as I sunk into a pew in the back row and shrugged out of my layers of outerwear. Thankfully, my all black work uniform looked dressy enough to fit in. I picked up the hymn book and flipped through, finding peace seeing the familiar songs. For the first time in five months, I felt like I wasn’t alone.

"I was hoping I'd see you here." A man who I didn't know sat next to me. He brought the cold in with him. He smiled at me, one of those smiles that was warm and genuine and reserved for people you knew. I smiled back at him, puzzled. Something about him was familiar, but I didn't know what.

"I don't think I know you. Do I?" I stumbled over my words. This didn't look like someone who would be friends with me. Maybe he was a teacher, or a doctor? "I'm kind of embarrassed if I do."

The man looked as surprised as I did. And a little disapointed. "I'm sorry. Maybe I thought you were someone else? I'm Aidan." He held out his hand to me, and I excepted his firm, sure handshake.

"I'm Kyndra." I searched his face, his person, trying to place him. Dark hair flopped down on his forehead, almost obscuring his equally dark eyes. He had high cheekbones, the beginnings of five o’clock shadow and full lips.
Stop looking at his lips
, Kyndra.
You're in a church
, I reminded myself. Lust was probably covered in the Ten Commandments and off limits in this building. I forced my eyes down. He wore a gray suit for the occasion, his light blue tie looked icy against his tawny skin. I always appreciated when people dressed up for special days. Had I planned to come here and had access to my dressy clothes, I would have dressed up tonight. Too many people in this building couldn’t be bothered with anything better than jeans and sweatshirts. I brought my eyes back up to his. He had watched me look him over, and from the crinkles in the corners of his eyes, he was amused.

"I know," he said quietly. He didn't break his gaze. I should have been creeped out, but honestly, I think I would have been disappointed if he‘d said or done anything else.

I didn't know how to react, so I looked down to the hymn book in my lap, scrambling to find the page with tonight's mass program on it. What the hell was going on in this church?

"Have you been here for Midnight Mass before? It's a beautiful service," Aidan continued, either oblivious to or feeding off of my awkwardness.

"No. I used to go to church with my grandmother, but it's been a while." I stole a quick glance up at him again. Had I waited on him at work? That wouldn't make this any less weird. I worked at a lingerie store. Either he was shopping for someone else, or for himself. That happened more than you’d expect. And with the people you least expected. Either way, I shouldn't get involved. He looked at least fifteen years older than me and more than a couple of tax brackets richer.

But he probably had a nice, warm house to go to after the service. Maybe a condo in a triple decker. Or a high rise apartment. Single families were few and far between in Boston. If he had one, he had a family. I fought disappointment at that thought.

Kyndra, you will not follow some strange man home on Christmas. No matter how much you think you know each other. No matter how good looking and put together he is. That's how you wind up in pieces in a cardbox in some random lot. That’s how you became the lead off story on the nightly news.

"My grandmother brought me to church when we were kids, too. I miss that. I can't find services in French around here."

"You're from France?" Oh, this guy was just too much.

"No. Quebec." He said with a chuckle. Okay, that was better. There was nothing sexy about Quebec. "But I try to stay true to my nature."

"And what is that?" I was intrigued. He seemed sincere, but I was beginning to think he was just a complusive, lying weirdo alone at church on Christmas Eve. "And where is your family tonight?"

"I like to take care of people." He said without any pretense. I wanted to roll my eyes so badly, but still, he seemed to mean it. And I could use some of that.
Stop thinking like that
, I yelled at myself silently.
You're just going to get yourself in trouble.

Maybe that's what I want,
my inner dialogue continued defiantly.

"My family is scattered throughout the country." Aidan continued. "What about yours? You're not all alone on Christmas, are you?" The service was about to start and the pews began to fill. I had to slide in, so close our legs touched.

I panicked, not knowing how to answer the question. He'd know if I lied to him. He knew too much. And I didn't know why.

"It's not so bad." I didn't look at him, or the book. I stared blankly ahead, watching families file into their seats. The blur had to be unshed tears.

"No one should be alone on Christmas." Aidan squeezed my hand, but neither of us had a chance to say more before the service began.

Don’t miss the rest of

 

S
ummer has finally arrived, along with a boy who will forever change the life of fourteen-year-old Callie. After growing up hearing stories about Tristan Trevosier and his famous family, Callie finally meets him when he spends the summer on Martha's Vineyard. Seventeen-year-old Tristan is a hurricane of destruction and rebellion, and he quickly blows a hole right into Callie's sheltered life. Callie sees a side of Tristan that he doesn't show anyone else. She's determined to make everyone see what she sees in him.

Callie defies her parents by leaving the island with Tristan. But when his ugly habits rear their head, Callie realizes maybe she's the one who's wrong about him. He's beyond her help. But it's too late for her to walk away. This summer, she learns that love can be stronger than reason.

 

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