Spying Under the Mistletoe (Love Undercover #2) - Stina Lindenblatt Page 0,95
of the residence, walks to the front, and the loud applause slowly peters out. “Thank you so much for the delightful performance,” she tells the kids. “We’re truly blessed that you agreed to join us for our Christmas party. We now have snacks and crafts set up in the cafeteria, if you’d all like to join me there.”
As far as the kids are concerned, she said the magic word. They bounce around, cheering.
“How are we doing here?” I ask Samuel’s table. Amy, Landon, and Adam, as well as the resident staff, are helping the kids and seniors at the other tables scattered throughout the room.
He flashes his shiny white dentures at me and nods at Anton. The little boy’s craft project appears to have met a blizzard of glue. It oozes over the toilet paper rolls, red construction paper, and pipe cleaners. “I think we might be out of glue.”
“You might be right.” I smile at Anton. “I’ll get you some more.”
I pick up the paper plate that had the glue and walk to the table at the front of the room. I awkwardly unscrew the large white container with my good hand and attempt to pour glue onto the plate. Nothing comes out.
Not a problem. The rest of the supplies are in the other room.
I walk through the open doorway to where I’d stashed everything when I last volunteered here. I crouch next to an open cardboard box and locate the glue.
“Great concert,” a deep male voice says, practically startling me out of my underwear. Eric. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t hear you enter.” I lift the container and stand. “And thank you.”
His gaze flicks to something over my shoulder. Out of instinct, I start to turn to check what he’s looking at.
Before I can turn fully around, something pokes me in the back. The container of glue is yanked from my hand from behind.
“Don’t even think about screaming,” a harsh voice says as a strong whiff of bad breath, laced with garlic, assaults my nose. “Or else I’ll shoot a few rug rats to teach you a lesson. Do we have an understanding?”
A shiver runs through me, turning my body ice cold. Frosty the Snowman has nothing on me.
I nod my head, the movement barely perceptible.
“You can’t trust anyone, Chloe.” I guess Nikolai was right about that.
Oh, God, what do I do now?
My grandfather never taught me self-defense, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t sign up for a class with Kiera a few years ago—just in case.
But there’s a huge difference between a classroom setting and real life. For one, the worst that can happen in the gym is that you end up on the mat, your pride slightly bruised.
If I screw up here, a bruised ego will be the least of my problems.
Plus, the instructor never went over a scenario like this, or any scenario involving more than one person.
Eric—if that’s even his name—stands casually in front of me as if none of this is going down. “How ’bout we go for a little ride?”
How about I knee you in the nuts and make your voice climb a few octaves?
Sounds like a plan to me—if he were close enough for my knee to be acquainted with his man parts. And if his evil sidekick wasn’t poking me in the back with the deadly weapon.
“I’d rather not, if that’s all right with you.” I barely manage to squeeze the words out of my suddenly dry throat.
“I wasn’t actually giving you a choice.”
I swallow and channel the inner ass-kicking girl that I’m positive is buried beneath the surface—a thousand leagues beneath the surface, but it’s still there. Be brave. Stall him. Give Landon a chance to realize I’m missing before I really am missing.
“I know, but a girl can always hope she’s wrong. You do realize my boyfriend’s here, and he’s the jealous type?” A boyfriend who has hopefully noticed I’m no longer in the cafeteria and is looking for me.
Okay, not exactly the ideal plan, given Landon’s shooting arm is currently in a sling. There’s not much he can do about my predicament.
But Eric and his baboon don’t know that.
My gaze darts to my purse, sitting in the corner—too far away to be of any good, my penknife tucked safely inside.
“You mean Landon Reed, the man your cousin put a hole in? Although if he’d done what he was supposed to, the hole would’ve been in Landon’s heart. Same deal with Adam Hathaway.”