Capturing Hearts - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,15

something only women can see.

Annie looks around the lot, like the subject is closed. “That’s what I thought. Well, luckily there are a lot of trees still here…”

“There aren’t that many,” Lily argues.

“…so why don’t you go pick another tree, be nice and easy to get along with, so your boyfriend here will want to give you one of these, too.” Annie points to her pregnant belly with both index fingers. I stifle a snort.

“What did you just say to me?” Lily cries out, aghast.

Annie takes a step closer. “Look. I’m nine months in. Baby was due last week. My patience is zip and my manners? Shot. My apologies for saying it like it is, but this is how it is: be nice, you get one of these, and keep one of those. Be a frowny-faced, tight-lipped Nazi, he will go running for the hills before you can say Happy New Year.” She points to the guy whose face is now as red as his hair, the truth having been told aloud. Annie announces, without malice, “He looks like a keeper! Why don’t you take his lead?”

Stunned speechless, Lily lets her boyfriend guide her away, gently reassuring her, “We’ll get another tree. That’s their tree. It’s fine. Okay?”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just…” she trails off, dumbfounded.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget it.” He glances back to me and guy-to-guy, I can see he’s more than a little bit grateful, if not amused.

Eying my badass wife, I ask, “Was it worth it?” as soon as they’re out of earshot.

Annie shrugs. “I’ve got a problem with authority. You know that.”

“The second she demanded the receipt...”

Annie shrugs, trying not to feel guilty. “...It was over. I can’t stop myself. But come on! She was so rude!”

Not bothering to argue, I’m regarding the scope of this tree. “How are we going to get this bad boy home now that we’ve got it?” I glance down. She meets my eyes with a helpless look.

“Uh oh.”

“Yeah.”

She stares at it, looks at me, stares at it some more. Then one corner of her mouth tugs up. “You want to tell them they can have it?”

“No way!”

We look at it some more, until she announces, “No, really! That’s the best thing to do anyway. Go give it to them. Tell them we changed our minds. Here, I’ll do it!”

As she turns, I grab her around the waist and turn her to face me. Even with this baby-belly, she’s like a small paperweight to me. She gasps at the speed with which I’ve managed her body, and I lean in closely, holding her eyes. “This is the tree you wanted. We’re getting this tree home. I want you to have the best Christmas you’ve ever had.”

“By stealing a tree from someone?”

I kiss her nose, repeating as I nod, “By stealing a tree from someone.”

“Isn’t that bad karma?” she murmurs against my lips.

I kiss her softly. “You should have thought of that before. Now let’s see if they deliver.”

Chapter Sixteen

Tommy

Incarcerated a few months ago. For life. Me: not happy.

“They’re comin’ for ya, Tommy!” whispers Dinon from the cell next to mine. He’s always watching. He sees things before everyone. Me? I don’t care to watch. I like to keep to myself. Keep my head down. Maintain my virginity. And aside from that, stay out of the game. And there’s a deadly serious game in jail, just like in the movies and T.V., only it’s worse because it’s real.

I gotta get out of here.

“Who’s coming, D? Santa Claus?”

“Listen,” he hisses.

I straighten up on my elbows on the bed. Then I hear them. Multiple pairs of methodically advancing footsteps. They could belong to anyone. It’s the not knowing that’s got my teeth on edge and goosebumps rising slowly. I keep to myself in here. But I knew that couldn’t last forever.

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, jumping down from the top bunk. The second I hit the cement, The Chain Gang appears in my doorway, a group of Italians I’ve carefully avoided. Until now.

“Well, well, well. Pretty Boy. If it ain’t the pretty boy who missed,” smiles Antonio who controls the gang as well as most of the Caucasian inmate population. He’s got a scar sliced across his neck from a near fatal knife fight in here last year. The other guy missed the near and went straight to the fatal. But what’s creepier is he doesn’t blink.

I ask with measured caution, “How’s it goin’ Antonio?”

“We were wonderin’ why you don’t sit with