Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
W ith each word that passes through her lips, my anger climbs ever higher. The bastard spent years coercing her and making her feel like she couldn’t speak up to give word to her wants and desires.
He made her think that every time he denied her something, she was the problem. That she shouldn’t be asking for anything more because she already had everything she could ever need. That she should just shut up and do what she’s told like a good little housewife. Only, he goes and cheats on her anyway. With her best friend, nonetheless.
I can’t wait to get Atlas and Key alone tonight so I can tell them exactly what he did to her. We may not be able to kill him, for more than one reason, but you can bet your bottom-fucking-dollar that he will not be leaving this cabin unscathed. The bastard needs to pay for what he’s put this gorgeous woman through over the years.
Despite her obvious fire and strong-willed persona, she has a sensitive and delicate side to her that she seems to be showing us more and more. Almost as if she’s not had anyone to confide in over the years. My heart aches for her.
“Enough about me,” she squeaks, wiggling her way from between us all. Clearing up, she busies her hands, not once looking our way. Recognizing her need to collect herself and process, I allow her this one infraction. “So I know you are…hitmen. But what on earth are you doing this far out?”
“An old friend of ours reached out to us a couple of days ago saying their daughter was kidnapped.”
Her eyes bug wide. “And that’s who he is?” She questions, waving her hand in the direction of the living room, not knowing the guys have already moved him upstairs to the second bedroom for some extra… privacy .
I shake my head. “No. We were unfortunately too late. They moved her to a second location before we could get to her. That unfortunate soul-” Atlas growls at my choice of words. “He was tidying up loose ends when we arrived to storm the place.”
“Meaning he works for them, and you’re going to what? Question him on where they are?” Grace questions innocently, her nose scrunching up slightly. She knows exactly what we’re going to do, but the caring and nurturing side of her still pushes for the lighter side of things.
“I’m going to torture it out of him and cause as much pain as humanely possible,” Atlas growls. Key’s jaw drops slack and I arch an eyebrow. Atlas looks at us both before settling his gaze back on Key. “What? You said she preferred things straight.”
Key chokes on his own spit for a second, running his hand through his hair. “Not that straight, man!”
Grace’s melodic chuckles fill the air as she watches the two of them interact. “It’s alright, boys, I get it.” Does she? I see the little sliver of uncertainty in her eyes. “Although, please keep it well away from me. I took an oath not to harm for a reason.” Winking at us, she claps her hands and tells us she’s going to start getting dinner ready, so shoos us out of the kitchen.
“Little one?”
“Hmm?”
“We’re just going to go out and get firewood. Stay in here until we’re back. No matter what you hear.”
“But what if-”
I step up toe-to-toe with her, towering over her. Her mouth falters for a second before her eyes glaze over, satisfying my primal side. Reaching up to trace my fingers over her jaw, I bite my lip to stop myself from going any further.
“So responsive,” I whisper, my voice raspy with need. At her gasp, my eyes fixate on the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “You are not to leave this room until we are back. Do you understand?”
“But-”
Wrapping her hair in my fist, I tilt her head back and lean in close, trailing my nose up her throat. “Do you understand?”
“Ye- Yes, sir.” She stutters, her barely there voice whispering past her lips.
“Good girl. Now go make us some cookies.” Licking a path up her neck to her ear, I bite the lobe, and she shivers in my arms.
I know exactly what we’re going to do tonight, and it involves getting this gorgeous woman in the hot tub we noticed when we first scoped out the place, naked between the three of us. We may have only known her for a matter of hours, but we’re like moths drawn to the flame of her beauty. And now that we’ve noticed our prey, we most certainly won’t be letting it escape.
Leaving her a panting mess in the middle of the kitchen, I palm the hard on bulging through my tactical pants as I head over to the guys. Noticing my predicament, I give them a satisfied look, stating everything they need to know about what’s going down tonight.
Groaning, I can see Key swelling just at the thought. Atlas, as gruff as ever, grunts and re-arranges himself quite violently. I wonder if our sweet Grace will submit to us with open arms, or whether she’ll fight for dominance.
Fuck. Shouldn’t have thought that. There’s even less space in my trousers now, and I feel like I’m being choked.
Getting back to the task at hand, we work in silence as we don our winter coats and grab an ax and a gun each from the duffles. Heading out first, I try to open the door, but it’s stuck fast.
“Fuck. Atlas, I’m going to need a hand, brother. The lock’s frozen shut.” Moving out of his way, he uses brute force to dislodge the lock and, by the sounds of it, snaps it off in the process. Not that it matters. We’re safe here. In fact…
“Key?”
“S’up?”
“We need to set up the cameras. I don’t think anyone will make it to us with this raging outside, but just in case.” Grunting his affirmation, I chuckle as I hear his teeth chattering already.
“It’ll still close,” Atlas mumbles gruffly, demonstrating that the door absolutely will not remain closed.
“We’ll use some of the wood to fashion a barricade to stop the draft from coming in and to keep it shut,” I direct, patting him on the back as I notice the gaping hole in the door frame where the locking mechanism once was.
“Key, go tell Grace and ask her to put a door stop or chair behind it when we leave. I don’t want her getting too cold.”
“Or I could just-”
“Not happening.”
Tutting, he does what I ask as Atlas pulls the door open the rest of the way, the hinges frozen stuck. Key returns just as he manages to get the door fully open. A whistle slips my lips as we’re hit in the face with freezing, slashing winds and confronted with at least two feet of snow barring our exit.
Looks like this is going to be a very miserable trip outside. We may have warm clothing donned that we could use to walk around in a snowy town, but our clothing choice is by no means suitable for a snowstorm. It’s most definitely not waterproof either.
“That rolled in a lot faster than we expected,” Key mumbles from behind us. His adversion to the cold comes out in full force as he tucks his face as far back into his hood as possible to avoid the freezing temperatures. He’s always struggled with the cold. He’s a summer baby through and through.
I nod in agreement. “If we’d stopped off for that break, we’d likely be lost in the middle of this blizzard right now.”
Sick of our idle chit-chat, Atlas wastes no time in plowing his way through the snow with perceived ease, forging a pathway for us to follow. With his ax strapped to his back, his rifle over his shoulder, and his puffy winter coat on, he looks like the perfect embodiment of an ax-wielding murderer. I snort at the thought.
I suppose he is.
Gritting my teeth at the biting winds, we case the area before going much further. Everything is nearly completely whited out, meaning we could very well step off the edge of a precipice without even knowing it. Sure, the snow would cushion our fall somewhat, but it’s very easy to be submerged in deep snow and not get out again. Especially without a rescue team, and we definitely don’t have that at our disposal.
“Stay sharp,” I shout over the wind, not sure either of them can hear me.
Taking point, Atlas directs us towards the trees at the side of the house. We’ve already been out for ten minutes, but it’s taken us that long just to traverse halfway across the house due to the difficult terrain. Atlas heads over to one, but Key stops him.
“Not these ones,” he hollers. “They’re in front of the master bedroom. It’ll ruin Sugar’s view. Let’s get those ones instead.” Pointing just off to the right, Atlas grunts in acknowledgment, and we all find a tree of our own to fell.
Working silently, biting back curses at the bitterness of the storm, we make quick work of a couple trees and fashion a sleigh out of a few logs to bring as much back as possible. My face is frozen numb, yet each icicle that hits my face burns with a fiery intensity. My hands are so cold that it’s hard to tell whether I’m gripping the wood or not. I’m actually starting to worry about the possibility of frostbite.
Key is the first to head back, of course, and as Atlas and I start to return, a sharp whistle draws our attention. Waving at us from the opposite side of the front door, we trudge our way to him through the now chaotic and dangerous storm.
His cocky, yet irritated grin is the first thing I note.
“What?” I shout over the wind, getting straight to the point, the ice coating each one of my fucking limbs making me pissy.
“You’ll want to see this.” He turns and strides around the corner of the house without further explanation, and I glance at Atlas with a raised brow before sighing and following.
There, nestled away from the picturesque view of the front and sides of the luxury cabin, is a standard looking cabin amongst a bundle of thick trees and nearly completely buried in snow. I narrow my eyes as Key stops at the door and waits for us to reach him, and with a showman’s bow, he pushes it open for us to peer in, a slew of snow tumbling into the empty space.
“Ah, fuck.” Atlas groans loudly, and I must agree.
“No one tells anyone about this. Ever ,” I bark. “Not even Grace,” I mumble, my words likely lost to the wind. I palm my face, barely feeling the touch even though I know it’s happening.
“Wasn’t planning on it, brother.” Key hollers, scratching at the back of his head as we all turn and gaze at the evidence of our complete and utter stupidity.
An entire small family-sized cabin filled to the brim with firewood, a generator, and dozens of different sorts of supplies.
Of course there’s emergency supplies for guests here. Fucking duh . The owners must be used to storms like this randomly passing through and appropriately prepared for their guests. We’re fucking idiots. Just…
Fuck!
I angrily kick at my now meager-looking sled of firewood, cursing as my wound smarts. Hopefully the stitches are still intact. I have a feeling Grace wouldn’t be all too happy with me busting a stitch just after she fixed me up.
Storming into the cabin, I growl out commands wanting to get back inside as soon as possible. Thankfully, the roar of the wind doesn’t reach the inside space, giving a reprieve to my voice that’s starting to rasp from all the shouting.
“Grab everything you can. We need to move it all inside before we’re completely cut off from it. There’s got to be somewhere inside where we can store it.”
Catching on quickly, Atlas and Key start to silently pile more wood onto the sled before grabbing what they can.
Locking up the cabin again, satisfied our haul will sustain us, we’re striding past the side of the house when I’m stunned to a stop.