Chapter 341: Christmas Eve
*Christmas is one day. Yule is nearly two weeks. – Nessie*
Neither of the girls liked going into the basement of the funeral home. It had become the best place to hide their Christmas gifts. After the girls went to bed Christmas Eve, Pagan and Shiloh began bringing the gifts up.
“You didn’t get them too much, did you?” Pagan teased. They were still carrying his presents up on the third trip.
“Nothing compared to you.” She laughed as they placed the latest load around the tree.
“Not all of it’s from me. Quite a bit is from my parents and Santa.” He countered. “We usually go to the Shack for Christmas dinner.”
“That sounds awesome. Do I need to cook anything?”
Pagan laughed as she arranged a few boxes. “No, Nessie would be insulted.”
“The carnival and stuff is gone, right?” she asked quietly and he heard the fear in her voice.
“Yes, Santa’s Wonderland is officially shut down. Some of the booths and tents are still up, but we won’t be going over there.” He sat on the floor next to where she was kneeling. “Is that going to be okay?”
She nodded, focusing on the boxes and not looking at him. Gently, he turned her face to him.
“Talk to me.”
He sat and waited in a long silence, giving her time to put her thoughts together.
“I was at a festival in Switzerland. It was my first school in Europe. It was an elite boarding school. When I say elite, I mean elite. I went to school with honest to God princesses.”
He knew that she came from money but did not realize that it was *that* much money. Pagan moved his hand and brushed away a tear.
“I come from what they call young money. My grandfather and his father made it all. They were old money. Royal family lines. Generations of titles and castles. Several could trace their lineage back to Queen Victoria. Some further.”
“I was the only American and one of the youngest girls there. They didn’t like me. They made my life a living hell. We went to a local festival in October. Light snow and cold winds.”
Suddenly the reason that her house was never cold made sense. Just like the fairs, being cold brought up bad memories. Which would also explain the fact that she wore leggings and heavy clothes in winter.
“The other girls lost me in a crowd. I couldn’t find them, so I started walking back to the school. I don’t know how long they had me. I was in a bare room in a stone cottage. The window was cracked, and the room was cold.”
Shiloh knew that if she closed her eyes, she would see that room as if she was still there. She could already feel the cold seeping into her bones. Her wrists began to ache where they had been bound.
“They had me for several days at least. I really don’t know. It really doesn’t matter.”
Taking a deep breath, Shiloh let it out slowly. She had to get in control of herself again. She had to be in charge.
“D came and got me. Buried my face in her chest and walked me out. Told me to close my eyes and not to open them until she told me to. I opened my eyes and saw the men that took me. They had been tortured. One had strips of skin cut off him.”
“D?” Pagan asked and thought of Dom being there at the restaurant. “You mean Dom?”
“I just know her as D. Mohawk, tattoos.” Shiloh admitted. “She still checks in with me every so often.”
Pagan smiled at her, having a hard time reconciling the Dom that he knew with the D that checked in with Shiloh.
“She stayed with me for the first few nights until they get me back to the states. She was the only one that I saw. But I figured that there had to be others there. I can’t see her skinning a man.”
“I’m sure.” Pagan agreed, but he certainly could see Dom skinning a man.
He had helped to build the cage in her playroom. And to make the tools, toys, he wasn’t sure what you would call the items in the black room. There was a table that lay at a slight angle and was basically a giant drainboard. There was also a chair that was just a frame made from metal square tubing.
The woman scared him. She scared most people. Very few were comfortable around her. But his youngest daughter was. And apparently, so was Shiloh.
Pagan pulled her in close to him. She settled in his lap and gave into the tears. He held her close and let her have her moment. He was a girl dad, he had learned quickly that sometimes, girls, and women, just need a good cry to cleanse themselves.
But this… he had asked her to face down her nightmares. And she had.
Since it had gotten colder, and especially since it had started snowing, she had been restless at night. Tossing and turning. Whimpering in her sleep.
She now slept in sweatpants or fleece pajamas and a thick shirt with an electric blanket on the bed. He would wake up sweating and strip down to his boxers. And when her nightmares started, he would pull her close and whisper that she was safe, and she would settle down.
After the first few nights, Pagan had gone to Chance. His wife had suffered from bad nightmares and Pagan had asked what he did to help her.
He could still see Chance smiling at the woman who was oblivious to them as she played with their son on the mat on the floor. The club slut had fallen fast and hard and went from multiple women in a day to just one for the rest of his life.
“Make her feel safe.” Chance had told him. “The worst part is that there is nothing that *you* can do. It’s all up to her. You can support her. Let her know she’s safe. But you can’t fix it.”
Now, in the floor, in front of the Christmas tree, Pagan held Shiloh and told her that she was safe. He was there for her. He said whatever came to his mind.
Except for one thing that he stopped himself from saying. He wasn’t ready to admit what his heart was telling him. Not to himself. And certainly not to her. It was too soon. He should know her longer. His brain argued with his heart. And by the time he carried her upstairs, he wasn't sure which one had won the argument.
