Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Noelle

I come to with a banger of a headache and dust tickling my nostrils. I can't hear Dante, but I know he's in here somewhere. Wherever here is. I keep my eyelids mostly closed but peer out from under my eyelashes to try to get my bearings. I'm in a dark, musty, quiet room. The air is cool. I'm on my back on a couch that's covered in rough, scratchy fabric. Outside I hear birds chirping.

"Hello, Noelle."

Dante's lightly accented English is like nails on a chalkboard. I suppress a shudder and open my eyes, pulling myself up to a seated position. He's sitting in a chair on the other side of the room watching me pretend to sleep like the freak he is. We're in the old ski lodge.

"Dante. "

We stare at each other for what feels like a long time. This makes me wonder how long it's been since he bashed my head against the wall and dragged me out of the inn. I glance up at the clock, but it's stopped. Stuck at ten to nine.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to stop debasing yourself with the innkeeper."

Nice.

"Still a peeping tom, I see. Well, if you know about me and Nick, then you must know I'm not available. Off the market, Dante."

In response, he spits on the floor. I take this as a possible sign of personal growth because the last time I saw Dante spit, it was aimed at my face. I have no idea why I'm sassing this unstable, violent man—other than I'm really mad. More mad than scared even. Because I am finally seizing life, living fully, and here comes a narcissistic Italian psychopath to mess it up by murdering me. This is so patently unjust that I can't even be frightened, just furious.

I try again. "But I wasn't dating Nick when you decided to flee your arrest warrant in Ravenna and come here. So why are you here?"

Anger, real anger, flashes across his face. "I read about you. Showing off your little children's library program like the puttana you are. Look at me, pay attention to me. So needy."

I wait a beat. Then I say, "You sound jealous, Dante."

He takes a long swig of beer from a bottle that I recognize from the open house. Then, without warning, he hurls it at me. I duck and it smashes into the wall above my head. Glass and beer rain down on me.

"Clean up the mess," he orders .

I'm about to tell him to clean up his own flipping mess, when I stop myself. Sensei Adam makes us do this brainstorming exercise where we look around the room and try to find everyday objects that we can use as weapons. A broom would make an excellent improvised weapon.

I stand up and smooth my dress over my thighs. "With what?"

He waves a hand. "There must be a broom. Find it."

I walk, unsteady as a newborn foal, across the room and toward the swinging doors that lead to the kitchen. Because a knife or even a fork would be superior to a broom. But he stops me.

"Not in there. Down the hall."

For a split second, I consider dashing into the kitchen anyway. But I'm woozy, and he's strong and evil, and I'm afraid I'll end up on the wrong end of the knife. So I turn to my left and walk until I reach a narrow closet set into the paneling.

I open it. It's crammed full of cleaning supplies. Nothing super helpful, though—like, say, lye, or bleach, or a loaded semi-automatic rifle.

"Hurry up!" he shouts.

I grab the broom and dustpan and slam the door shut. Something shiny winks up at me from the bottom of the dustpan. I squint down at it. It's a big glass shard. A wicked, sharp piece of glass. I pluck it out carefully and tuck it into my dress pocket. Now I have two weapons.

I walk back into the room and flash him a tight, unfriendly smile as I pass him to go sweep up his broken glass.

"Stop. "

I stop.

"You didn't think I'd let you get your hands on that glass, did you, puttana ?"

My heart drops. How can he possibly know? Then I realize he means the beer bottle, and I turn to face him. "So you do or do not want me to clean up the mess you made? Which is it, Dante?"

He lunges from the chair like a panther and wrenches the broom out of my hands. He throws it toward the front window. It smashes through the pane of glass next to the one someone (presumably him) already broke and sails outside, where it lands on the porch with a clatter. The clattering lasts for an unusually long time—and sounds suspiciously like feet.

Nick.

I want to cry with relief, but I need to distract Dante.

I turn back to him. "You really like to break things, huh?"

"I'd like to break you," he hisses.

I force my frozen face muscles into a slow smile. "It must really bother you that you couldn't break me all those years ago. For you to come all this way, chasing after me. Kind of pathetic."

He's going to slap me. I know he's going to slap me, and I want him to.

Sure enough, he raises his right hand and backhands me across my left cheek, whipping my head to the right.

Oof. My cheek stings. A lot. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.

He laughs. As I move my head back to face him, I slip my right hand into my pocket and wrap my fist around the piece of glass .

He's still laughing when I pull my hand out and drive the glass right into his thigh with all my might. As I'd hoped, it hits his femoral artery, which I know by the bright red blood that spurts out.

He howls and I take several quick steps back as the front door crashes open and Nick runs into the lodge, clutching a hammer. Santas and Lords stream in behind him, followed by Griselda, Sensei Adam, and Enrique.

Nick's standing over Dante, who's collapsed on the floor. I walk over and take the hammer out of his hand. "You brought the cavalry. Thank you for rescuing me."

I press a kiss to his lips.

"Looks like you rescued yourself, Noe."

He kisses me back.

I hand the hammer to Griselda and say to nobody in particular, "I stabbed him in the femoral artery. If he doesn't get first aid in the next seven minutes, he's going to bleed to death."

I swear I watch Griselda consider just letting him die. Then she sighs heavily and starts to shrug off her sparkly shawl. But one of the Lords stops her.

"I'm an emergency department doctor," he tells her with clear reluctance. "So I have a duty to save this piece of poop." He raises his voice. "I need a tourniquet!"

Well, boo. I untie the silk sash from my dress and hand it to him.

"This'll work. Thanks. Hey, how did you know where to stab him?"

"I read it in a thriller. Reading is fundamental, you know. "

Nick is staring at me. "You just almost killed him and saved his life."

"Carol's note told me not to die regretting missed opportunities," I explain with a shrug.

"We're going to go to the hospital and get you checked out. Ivy's waiting in the car."

"Why? I'm fine."

"There's a handprint on your face, and a bloody wound on the side of your head, Noelle."

"Oh, right. Shouldn't we wait for the police, though?"

Nick turns to Santa Jamal. "You're in charge. When the police get here explain what happened and tell them they can interview Noelle at the medical center."

"You got it."

We head for the door. Nick has his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wait," I tell him when we reach the threshold.

He stops. I turn around and take in the ragtag band that rode to my rescue. My friends and neighbors.

"Thank you. All of you," I say. "I love you, and I love this town."

One of the Lords wipes away a tear. Sensei Adam makes a heart shape with his hands. Griselda snaps, "Will you get her out of here before she breaks into song?"

"Especially you, Grizzy. I love you the most," I call, as Nick drags me out to the porch.

Then, he scoops me up and carries me to the waiting station wagon.

I press my face against his neck and whisper, "I lied to Grizzy. I love you the most."

"I know, Noe. I love you, too."