A Villain for Christmas (The Holyoake Christmas Series, Book 2)

Stalking Is Love

Listening to the guide, Billie had a moment of unpleasant self-reflection. She'd agreed to have dinner with the man; she'd spent two nights in the same bed as him; he'd introduced her to his family - and she hadn't even bothered to learn his siblings' names.

"It took me ages to save up for a bottle! I spritz it on my pillow every night before going to bed!" Terry continued.

Alright, that's officially starting to border on a Eleanor Flood behaviour.

Billie took a small cautious step away from the hyperventilating Dair aficionado.

"I can't believe I get to spend the whole day with him! In a closed space!" Terry's face was glowing. "I get to see him do things! Smile! Walk! Have you seen him walk? It's the sexiest thing in the world! And eating! That jaw! Those lips! Those teeth!" The guide pressed their hands to their cheeks, flashing the aquamarine varnish on their short nails. "Oh, bite me, daddy..."

And now we've reached the Annie Wilkes level of creepy.

"I had to bribe two of my co-workers to get this gig! I took a triple dose of melatonin last night to get even an hour of kip! I can't wait to see what he's wearing and what–"

A gurgling noise erupted out of Terry; and they wobbled, their already pale complexion gaining a bluish tinge. Billie whipped her head and braced herself.

Laura Moretti smiled widely at Terry.

"Good morning."

She received no answer from the petrified redhead. A high-pitched sound originating in the guide's half-open mouth could knock down a bat mid-flight.

"Morning."

Dair's velvet baritone, however, had a devastating effect on the person's physical stability. They trembled, wavered, and made a bizarre whole-body wiggling movement like a highly incompetent Morris dancer.

"Oh god..." they rasped out. "Oh god... You're... you!"

Dair chuckled. "Last I checked, yes." He glanced at Billie.

"Eric!" Laura exclaimed, pointing at the guide - and Dair lunged forward and caught them just before they hit the ground.

"C-cavolo!"

Dair tried to prop the redhead up; but they kept slumping, their dangly limbs listless, short coarse pants falling from their lips.

"It's OK, b-bub," Dair murmured, supporting the person and leading them to the van. "Let's s-sit down. Nice and easy, alright?"

The driver jumped out of the vehicle and quickly opened a door for them. Dair carefully deposited the limp youth on a side seat. Dair and Laura leaned to the person, exchanging worried looks.

"Did they say anything?" Laura asked Billie. "Low blood sugar, maybe?"

"Sh-should we call 999?" Dair asked.

"No, no, please, it's alright," they protested weakly. Their eyes opened, and they winced away with a mewl. Apparently Dair's prominent nose was too close to their comfort. "I'll be alright. Just need a jiffy..."

"How many fingers am I showing?" the publicist asked, waving her hand in front of the redhead's face.

It properly appeared that she was flipping them a bird; but Terry clearly couldn't care less: they were once again gaping at Dair.

"How are you f-feeling?" the actor asked softly. "W-would you like some water?"

Terry gave out a tiny pip sound.

"W-would you like us to call someone?" Dair continued.

Another strangled yip followed.

"Or d-do you want to step inside for a moment?"

The redhead frantically shook their head - and to Billie's shock, they gave her a begging look and then pointed at Dair with their eyes. Billie would rather give up reading for a fortnight than to get involved in this conundrum; but the guide was rather pitiful.

"Um, Eric–" Billie's voice cracked. Dair immediately turned to her. "Could you–"

Billie wasn't sure how to phrase it, so she simply beckoned him with her hand. Dair grudgingly moved away from the van and walked up to her. Meanwhile, Laura took over the resuscitation attempts.

"W-what's up?" Dair asked.

"Just give them a bit of space, alright?" Billie said, acutely unsure of how to act. "You're– you're making them uncomfortable."

He frowned. "Why w-would I make them uncomfortable?"

Dair glanced at the van over his shoulder, and Billie heard a distressed whine, clearly coming from the tour guide.

"Well, they're apparently–"

"What's going on?" Bondarenko's sharp voice made everyone jolt. The Russian strode from around the van and surveyed the scene. "Why aren't we moving? Even I can't smoke for that long. Actually, I ran out. We need to find a gas station or something. Or is everyone here way too healthy for that? I suggest we solve this quickly."

"Our guide isn't feeling that well," Laura said. "Would you like to call your boss?" she asked Terry. "You should probably go home, we can drop you off somewhere." The publicist's efficient problem-solving mode kicked in right away. "Just arrange a different employee to take over for today. I can call them if you give me the number."

"No, no... I can– I can get up," Terry mumbled pleadingly, caught a glimpse of Dair, and disintegrated into a heap of knitwear and bony extremities.

"Yeah, totally," Laura said sarcastically. "Alright, you!" She addressed the driver. "Load them inside. Call your supervisor, ask for their emergency contact. Julia, get in the van. You and I are driving to town. We'll deal with–" She nodded towards the guide. "Then if there's another guide, we'll pick up everyone in the B&B and come back for Eric and Billie. And yes," she interrupted Bondarenko who was going to complain. "We'll get you your smokes on the way."

"What about me?" Billingsley sounded deeply displeased.

How long has he been impersonating Banquo?!

Judging by an array of guilty expressions, Billie wasn't the one who'd forgotten about the man's existence. The publicist seemed intent on ignoring him.

"Stay, Archie," Bondarenko threw to him, distracted by trying to open a gum bottle she'd fished out of her bottomless tote. "We'll come back for you if the tour is still happening."

Dair stepped to the director, took the bottle out of her hands, and deftly removed the plastic ribbon from its neck. She curtly nodded to him, stuffed a handful of white 'cushions' into her mouth, and started climbing into the van.

"May I have a piece of gum, please?" Terry whimpered in the background.

"Take the whole thing," Bondarenko dismissed and shoved the container into the person's hands.

They held it up like their own personal Holy Chalice.

The van door banged closed; and the last thing Billie saw was Terry's face pressed against the window, their nose squashed on one side, longing in their eyes.

Dair picked up Billie's hand and tugged her towards the door.

Billingsley bristled and called after them, "Eric, Ms. Harewicke and I have a chapter to review and–"

"Nope."

Billie had nothing to do but to obediently move her feet and follow Dair inside.