Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
A ha, Christmas magic. Is there anything better? I take a deep breath of crisp winter air, watching the snowflakes drift lazily to the ground. It’s serene, almost too serene for someone like me, who prefers a little more chaos mixed with my snow.
I thrive in the pandemonium that is the Christmas season. I love the busy, frantic shopping. The baking. The, well…everything! But a nice, peaceful snowy morning is always welcome too.
It took me forever to get out here. I practically had to beg the guys to let me step outside. They’ve been treating me like I’m some fragile snow globe that’ll shatter the moment I’m out of their sight. Atlas, with his bear-like protectiveness, flat out refused at first, his voice all gruff and serious. Teddy gave me his patented “ are you sure this is a good idea” look, and Key–well, he just smirked and said, “You’re gonna get cold, Sugar.” Like I’m not aware it’s winter.
But I put on my best pleading face, complete with wide, innocent eyes and pouty lips, and after what felt like hours of negotiation–okay, maybe like ten minutes–they finally relented. The snow had stopped, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and I was free!
Well, almost. They still insisted on me waiting by the front door while they checked the perimeter like it’s part of some covert military operation. I mean, I suppose it is considering their… occupation and the girl being held hostage not far from here. Either way, I’m not complaining at the chance to get out in the fresh, mountain air.
I tug my coat tighter, squinting at Atlas as he stomps through the snow like a human tank. His black hair is tied back, and he looks like he’s on some dangerous mission, scanning the surroundings like a wild animal on the hunt. Teddy’s over by the tree line, his sharp blue eyes practically slicing through the frosty air. And Key–well, Key’s probably plotting something mischievous. He’s been glancing my way every few minutes, and that grin of his is all kinds of suspicious.
It’s peaceful. Too peaceful. I mean, how many times can a girl admire pine trees and snow without falling asleep on her feet? My fingers are itching for something fun, something chaotic. I scan the area, my eyes narrowing as a plan starts to form.
Oh yeah. This is happening.
I bend down, scooping up a handful of snow, packing it tight in my hands. The cold bites into my skin, but I ignore it, my grin growing wider. Atlas’s back is turned to me, his broad shoulders the perfect target. He’s so serious, stomping around like he’s on a mission to save Christmas or something. I can’t resist.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I launch the snowball through the air. Time seems to slow as I watch it soar, spinning in perfect arcs, heading straight for its destination.
Splat.
The snowball hits Atlas square in the back of the head. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle my laugh as he freezes in place, his entire body going rigid. For a second, I think he’s going to explode. His shoulders rise, and then he slowly turns around, his face a mixture of confusion and, dare I say it, betrayal.
“You did not just-” he starts, his deep voice rumbling in a way that should probably scare me. But it doesn’t.
I burst out laughing, clutching my sides as I double over in the snow. “Oh, I totally did!” I manage to gasp between fits of giggles. “What’s the matter, big guy? Can’t handle a little snowball?”
Atlas raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You think that was funny, huh?”
“Absolutely hilarious,” I say, wiping a tear from my eye. “Come on, lighten up! It’s Christmas, and you’re acting like a grumpy snowman.”
He shakes his head slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. But there’s a glint in his eye, something playful lurking behind that stoic exterior.
Before I can throw another snowball, Key’s voice rings out from across the field. “Oh, Sugar. You’re in so much trouble now!”
I whip around just in time to see Key sprinting toward me, a snowball already forming in his hands. He’s fast–too fast–and before I can even think to run, he lets it fly. The snowball smacks into my shoulder, sending a shower of white powder into the air.
“Hey!” I shout, scrambling backward. “Two against one isn’t fair!”
Key grins, his brown hair flopping messily over his forehead. “Who said anything about fair? This is war.”
I crouch down, frantically scooping up more snow as Key ducks behind a tree, already gathering more ammunition. “Oh, you want war? You’ve got war!”
Teddy’s been watching from the sidelines, looking all calm and collected, but now he steps forward, snow crunching under his boots. “Do we really need to do this?” he asks, sounding like a parent about to break up a food fight. But there’s a smirk playing on his lips, and I can tell he’s tempted.
“Don’t even think about it, Teddy,” I warn, pointing a finger at him as I pack another snowball. “You’re either on my side, or you’re going down with them.”
He chuckles softly. “I don’t think you want me as an enemy, Grace.”
“Oh, I know your type,” I tease, readying myself. “All calculated, slow and steady, like a general. But guess what? I’m sneaky. And I fight dirty.”
I don’t give him a chance to respond before hurling a snowball straight at him. Hitting him right in the chest, it disintegrates, sending a puff of snow into the air. Teddy looks down at the white patch on his coat, and for a split second, I think he’s going to retaliate. But instead, he just smiles, shaking his head.
“You really don’t know what you’ve started,” he says, his voice low and ominous. And that’s when I know I’m screwed.
Atlas, who’s been silently gathering snowballs this whole time, finally makes his move. He stalks toward me with the patience of a predator, his hands full of perfectly formed snowballs. His green eyes lock onto mine, and I freeze, realizing just how outmatched I am.
“Now, now,” I say, backing away slowly. “Let’s not do anything hasty, okay? We can talk about this.”
Atlas doesn’t say a word. Instead, he lobs a snowball at me. I barely dodge it, the snow exploding against the ground where I was standing. I yelp, my laughter turning into a full-blown escape attempt as I dash toward the trees, my boots slipping on the snow.
“Retreat!” I shout, but Key’s already on my tail, his snowballs flying past me like tiny missiles.
I dive behind a tree, gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest. Okay, this is serious. They’ve formed an alliance, and I’m out here alone, underprepared, and–let’s face it–totally doomed. But I’m not going down without a fight.
I peek around the tree trunk, spotting Key crouched behind a snowbank, his amber eyes sparkling with mischief. Teddy’s standing a few feet away, snowballs in both hands, looking way too calm for someone in the middle of a snowball war. And Atlas? He’s circling the area, eyes scanning the trees like he’s hunting prey.
Perfect.
I quietly gather as much snow as I can, forming a small arsenal of snowballs at my feet. My breath fogs in the cold air as I crouch low, waiting for the right moment. Teddy steps forward, his attention focused on where I was just moments ago, and that’s my cue.
I spring from behind the tree, hurling snowballs as fast as I can. “Surprise!”
Teddy, caught off guard, takes two hits–one to the arm and one to the chest–before he ducks for cover. Key lets out a whoop of laughter, launching a counterattack as I dive back into the trees.
“You’re a little sneak!” He shouts, but I can hear the grin in his voice. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
“Years of throwing cookies in the oven,” I call back, laughing. “I’ve got impeccable aim!”
I hear Atlas moving behind me, his boots crunching through the snow, and I know I don’t have much time. He’s too strong to take on head-to-head, so I’ll have to be smarter. I grab two more snowballs and slip through the trees, keeping low. My heart’s racing, but it’s not from fear–it’s from exhilaration. This is fun. This is chaos. This is what Christmas should be like.
Suddenly, a snowball hits the tree next to me, and I spin around just in time to see Key grinning like a maniac, preparing another one. “Gotcha now, Sugar!”
I duck and roll, narrowly avoiding his next shot. My hands fly to the ground, packing another snowball as quickly as I can. I pop up, launching it at him, but he sidesteps with an obnoxious laugh.
“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that, Key!” I shout, determined to wipe that smug look off his face. I lunge forward, scooping up snow as I run, trying to get closer to him. But he’s quick, darting behind trees and snowbanks, making it nearly impossible to land a hit.
I glance back, spotting Atlas still closing in, his massive form moving steadily through the snow. Teddy’s regrouping on the other side, and I realize I’m caught in the middle of a pincer attack.
“Uh-oh,” I mutter under my breath. “Time for plan B.”
What’s plan B, you ask? Pure chaos.
I grab a snowball and throw it high in the air, aiming for nothing in particular, just to confuse them. Then, I take off in the opposite direction, zig-zagging through the trees as fast as I can.
“Where’s she going?” I hear Key shout from behind me.
“Doesn’t matter,” Atlas replies, his voice steady. “She’ll run out of room soon.”
Great. They’re closing in, and I’m running out of places to hide. But then I spot it–my salvation. A massive snowdrift, piled up high against the cabin wall. Perfect for an ambush.
I dive behind it, sinking into the soft snow, and start forming as many snowballs as I can. My hands are freezing, my breath coming out in short puffs, but I’m determined. If they’re going to catch me, they’re going to have to work for it.
I peek over the top of the snowbank, spotting Key first. He’s creeping through the trees, scanning the area for me. I smirk. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming.
I wait until he’s just a few feet away, then pop up from behind the snowbank, launching a flurry of snowballs at him. He yelps, ducking and covering his head as the snow pummels him.
“Yes!” I shout, pumping my fist in the air. “Victory is mine!”
But my celebration is short-lived, because as soon as I turn around, I come face-to-face with Atlas. And he’s holding the biggest snowball I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Oh no,” I whisper, backing away slowly.
Atlas’s green eyes sparkle with amusement as he steps forward, the massive snowball clutched in his hands. “You put up a good fight, Nutcracker. But it’s over now.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” I say, holding up my hands in surrender. “Let’s talk about this.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching. “Talk?”
“Yeah, we can negotiate! How about...how about I make cookies? Lots of cookies! I’ll even throw in hot chocolate!”
Atlas shakes his head, a rare smile breaking through his usual stoic expression. “Too late.”
With one swift motion, he hurls the giant snowball at me. It hits me square in the chest, sending me sprawling backward into the snow. I gasp, the cold seeping through my coat as I lie there, laughing so hard I can barely breathe.
“Okay, okay,” I wheeze, holding up my hands in defeat. “I give up. You win.”
Atlas looms over me, offering me a hand to pull me up. I take it, still grinning like a fool. “You didn’t have to go that hard, you know,” I tease, brushing the snow off my coat.
“You started it,” he replies, his voice teasing but warm.
Key and Teddy join us, both of them looking equally amused. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Grace,” Key says, shaking his head. “You’ve got guts.”
“And a decent aim,” Teddy adds, his eyes twinkling.
I puff out my chest, pretending to be proud. “Years of practice, boys. Years of practice.”
We all stand there for a moment, catching our breath, the snowball fight officially over. The sun is starting to set, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered landscape, and for the first time in a while, everything feels...right. Peaceful, but not boring. Fun, but not chaotic. Just...perfect.
“Alright,” I say, clapping my hands together. “I’ve got to go cook. You guys continue on with your boring...stuff.”
That earns a round of chuckles, with Key tossing a final handful of snow in the air like confetti. “You sure you don’t need backup in the kitchen? I’m an excellent taste tester.”
I shoot him a playful glare. “Yeah, because I totally need someone to stand around and eat everything before it’s ready. Hard pass.”
Key holds his hands up in surrender, but the grin on his face is anything but apologetic. “Fine, fine. Go on, master chef. We’ll handle the big, scary perimeter.”
Atlas nods solemnly, though the corners of his mouth twitch. “We’ll try not to have too much fun without you.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be a blast,” I say with mock enthusiasm, turning toward the cabin. “Let me know how many pinecones you spot or, you know, if a snowflake looks at you funny.”
As I trudge through the snow toward the cabin, their laughter fades behind me, leaving a warmth in my chest that has nothing to do with the many layers of clothes I have on. I glance back just once, watching as the three of them go back to their patrol. Teddy’s already got that calculating look on his face, Atlas is scanning the horizon like a hawk, and Key...
Well, Key is probably trying to figure out how to make patrolling more entertaining. Something about watching them work, knowing they’ve got my back, sends a shiver down my spine–a good one.
Inside the cabin, I kick off my snow-covered boots and shrug off my coat, already mentally running through the menu for food. Something hearty, maybe a stew to warm them up. I smile to myself as I move into the kitchen, setting out ingredients on the counter. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten much today either. I grab a carrot and take a bite, contemplating the mess I’ve got ahead of me with chopping, boiling, and seasoning. But honestly, after the snowball fight, it all feels...lighter. Like the weight that’s been hanging over us since we arrived has lifted, even if just for a moment.
The kitchen is cozy and warm, the scent of pine from the Christmas tree mingling with the spices I’ve set out. I hum to myself as I start prepping, my mind still buzzing with the memory of Atlas’s face when I nailed him with that first snowball. Totally worth it.
As I chop the vegetables, I can’t help but wonder how we all ended up here. A cabin in the middle of nowhere, hitmen for company, and a cheating ex a bit…tied up. It’s the kind of situation that’s supposed to be terrifying, yet here I am, feeling more at home with these three men than I ever did with Jason.
I pause, the knife hovering over a potato. Jason. I haven’t thought about him much today, which is weird considering he’s the reason I’m here in the first place. The anger and hurt bubble up again, but it’s different now. Before, it was all-consuming, like a storm I couldn’t see through. But now? It feels...manageable. Like I’m starting to come to terms with it. Maybe it’s because I have people—real people—who care about me, in their own strange, hitman-y way.
Shaking off the thought, I focus back on the task at hand.
I hum to myself as I stir the pot of stew, the rich scent of simmering beef and vegetables filling the kitchen. I can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction as the meal comes together. There’s something comforting about cooking, about knowing that I’m creating something warm and nourishing after the snowball fight, a little reward for all of us.
Once I’m happy with how it’s turned out, I ladle the stew into bowls, each one steaming and full of hearty goodness. Setting the bowls on a tray along with some fresh bread, I take a step back, admiring my work.
“Not bad, Grace. Not bad at all,” I mutter, wiping my hands on a dishtowel. With a final glance at the kitchen I head toward the door. I can still hear the guys outside, their deep voices rumbling in the distance as they wrap up their oh-so-serious patrol.
As I approach the front door, a movement in the corner of my eye makes me pause. Jason.
He’s sitting in the living room, tied up in the same chair as before. Like the saddest holiday decoration ever.
But what catches my attention most is that he’s clearly been moved. I can see the subtle signs: the slightly askew chair, the water bottle resting next to him on the floor, the way his bindings look just a bit looser than before. It’s obvious the guys have been...considerate. They’ve probably let him eat, use the bathroom–basic human decency and all that.
He is sitting in a kind of weird way though and he looks pale and clammy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s in a lot of pain. But there’s no obvious injuries, so maybe he’s just coming down with something.
Despite his pathetic appearance, my stomach churns with a mix of emotions. Anger, yes, but also a strange, creeping pity. This is the same man who betrayed me, who slept with my best friend behind my back, who planned to leave me here without so much as an explanation until he was caught. And now? Now he looks like a discarded toy, pitiful and sad, wrapped up in Christmas cheer he doesn’t deserve.
I stand there for a moment, frozen in place, just watching him. He doesn’t look up, too busy staring at the floor, probably embarrassed by the state he’s in. A part of me wants to walk right past him, to leave him there and focus on the people who actually care about me. But another part–well, the part that’s annoyingly empathetic–feels a tug.
I walk over to him, crossing my arms. “Well, this is…” I trail off, not quite knowing what to say.
Jason lifts his head slowly, his eyes tired, dull and wary. Of what, I’m not sure. The emotion looks oddly misplaced. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at me like he’s trying to process the situation. “Grace…”
“What? Did you think I forgot you were here?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’ve been a little busy, you know. Cooking, snowball fights, living my life.”
His face flushes, and he looks away, shame creeping into his expression. “I didn’t want–” He cuts off, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t want it to go like this.”
I snort, crossing my arms tighter. “What? You mean ending up tied up like a sad Christmas tree? Well, you kind of asked for it, didn’t you?”
Jason flinches, and for the first time since this whole mess started, I notice just how...small he looks. Defeated. And it hits me. This isn’t the Jason I remember. The cocky, confident guy who always knew how to make me feel like the center of his world, at least when it suited him. This is someone else entirely. A guy who’s been stripped of everything–his pride, his control, his power.
“What happened to you, Jason?” I ask, my voice softening despite myself.
For a moment, there’s silence between us, the crackling of the fireplace the only sound in the room. I know I should just walk away, let him sit there and stew in his own mess. But something keeps me rooted to the spot.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was stupid. I thought I could...I don’t know. Have everything. You, Tina, my job.”
I let out a bitter laugh, but it comes out more sad than anything. “That’s not true, Jason. There’s no point in lying anymore. You knew it would hurt me and you did it all anyway.”
His head drops, and he nods, the garland of lights shifting slightly as he moves. “Yeah. Maybe I did.”
I study him for a long moment, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to feel. Anger? Sadness? Relief? It’s a mess of all three, swirling together in my chest. Part of me wants to scream at him, to tell him how much he hurt me, how much of a fool I felt like. But another part just wants this whole thing to be over.
“Do you regret it?” I ask suddenly, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Jason lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of surprise and something else–something raw. “More than you’ll ever know.”
I nod slowly, taking a step back. “Good.”
I turn to leave, my heart pounding in my chest, but before I can walk away, Jason speaks again. “Grace...do you think you could ever forgive me?”
I stop in my tracks, his words hanging in the air between us. Forgive him? That’s a tall order. And I’m not sure I’m ready to give him an answer to that. At least not yet.
“I don’t know,” I say, not turning around.
And with that, I walk back toward the kitchen, leaving him behind, wrapped in tinsel and regret.
The guys will be back any second, and I know they’re probably starving. I grab the tray of stew and bread, mentally preparing myself for what’s about to happen. With the conversation with Jason lingering in my mind like the scent of pine needles after a Christmas tree's been taken down, I prepare myself for the conversation I know needs to take place.
Sure enough, the door swings open a moment later, and in they come–Atlas first, brushing snow from his thick black hair, followed by Key and Teddy. All of them look like they’ve been through a minor blizzard, even though the sun’s still shining.
“Food smells amazing,” Key says, rubbing his hands together as he beelines for the table. “I’m so hungry I could eat a reindeer.”
“Gross,” I say, smirking as I set the tray down in front of them. “No reindeer today. Just my famous beef stew.”
Teddy raises an eyebrow. “Famous, huh?”
“Well, famous to me,” I admit with a grin. “Dig in.”
They don’t need to be told twice. In seconds, they’re sitting around the table, shoveling spoonfuls of stew into their mouths like they’ve been starving for days. I take a seat across from them, watching as they devour the food. It’s weird, seeing them like this–so casual, so normal, like they aren’t trained killers. But then again, I guess everyone’s got to eat, right?
I take a deep breath, gearing up for what I’m about to say. “So, about Jason…”
Atlas glances up from his bowl sharply, his brows furrowing. I swear there was a flash of worry in his eyes for just a second, but I must be mistaken. “What about him?”
I twirl my spoon in the stew, trying to think of the best way to put this. “I was thinking...maybe we could let him out of the chair.”
Key snorts, nearly choking on his stew. “Yeah, no. Not happening, Sugar.”
Teddy glances between me and Key, his gaze more curious than dismissive. “Why?”
“Well,” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. “He’s not exactly a threat right now, is he? Harmless, really.”
“Harmless?” Atlas repeats, his voice heavy with skepticism. “Grace, the guy cheated on you. He was going to leave you out here alone. He let out the hostage for fuck’s sake! Remember?”
I wince, his use of my real name stinging. But I push forward. “I know. And trust me, I’m not forgetting that anytime soon. But you’ve made your point. He’s not exactly going anywhere, and I’m just...I don’t know. I guess I’m done with the whole tied-up-like-a-Christmas-tree thing. It’s getting a little old.”
Key leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You feel bad for him. Is that it?”
I look down at my stew, feeling a little embarrassed. “I wouldn’t say I feel bad for him. But I don’t want him rotting in that chair forever, either. He’s...broken. He knows what he did, and I think that’s punishment enough.”
Teddy exchanges a glance with Atlas, who still looks like he’s not convinced. “You really think letting him out is the right call?” Teddy asks, his voice calm, measured.
I nod, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. I do.”
Atlas sets his spoon down, the scrape of metal against the bowl echoing through the kitchen. “And what happens if we let him go and he causes trouble?”
“He won’t,” I say quickly, maybe too quickly. “Look at him, Atlas. He’s not the same guy who walked into this cabin thinking he could control everything. You guys made sure of that.”
Key rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and we could’ve made sure of it a little more if you’d let us.”
“Key,” I say, giving him a pointed look. “We’re not going to hurt him.”
“I mean-” He stops when Teddy coughs, before sighing dramatically. “Fine.”
Atlas runs a hand through his hair, clearly still conflicted. “I don’t like it. The guy’s a snake.”
“I know,” I say softly. “But I think…maybe I need to see him stand on his own. So I can stand on my own, too.”
The silence that follows is heavy, and I can tell the guys are mulling it over. Finally, Teddy sighs, wiping his mouth with a napkin before setting it down. “If it’s what you want, Grace, then fine. We’ll untie him.”
Key groans. “Seriously?”
Teddy shoots him a look. “Yes, seriously.”
Atlas remains quiet for a moment longer before finally nodding. “Alright. But the second he steps out of line-”
“He won’t,” I say, cutting him off. “I’ll handle it.”
Key mutters something under his breath about bad decisions , but I ignore him. I can’t explain it, but this feels like the right thing to do. Not for Jason, but for me. I need to close this chapter, and leaving him tied up like a festive hostage isn’t going to do that.
“Thank you,” I say, smiling at them all. “Really.”
Atlas grunts, standing up and tossing his napkin on the table. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
They follow me into the living room, where Jason still sits, slumped and miserable under the weight of the Christmas decorations. He looks up as we approach, his eyes widening in terror as Atlas and Teddy flank him on either side.
Key’s already unwrapping the tinsel from around Jason’s shoulders, muttering something about how he didn’t sign up to be Santa's helper. Atlas pulls off a stubborn bow with a single, annoyed yank, while Teddy starts loosening the knots around Jason’s wrists.
“You’re...letting me go?” He asks, his voice hoarse and croaky.
I nod. “Yeah. But don’t make me regret it.”
He rubs his arms as soon as he’s free, glancing at me with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. “Grace...I-”
“Don’t,” I say, holding up a hand. “This isn’t a free pass, Jason. You screwed up. Big time. But I’m not going to hold you prisoner, either. I just want this to be over.”
He nods, swallowing hard. “I understand.”
Atlas steps forward, towering over Jason, his presence alone is enough to make Jason flinch. “You try anything, and this doesn’t end well for you. Got it?”
Jason nods quickly. Swallowing thickly, he’s barely able to get any words out. “Got it.”
Key, standing a little ways off, watches the whole thing with a bemused grin. “Well, isn’t this the most heartwarming Christmas story ever? We let the guy go, and everyone lives happily ever after.”
I snort. “Not quite.”
With Jason free, I step back, watching as his gaze flits warily between the guys. His hands trembling as he rubs at his wrists.
“I’ll stay out of the way,” Jason says quietly, his eyes moving to me momentarily before darting back to the guys.
He goes to reach around to his back, but stops himself short, bringing his hands to wring them in front of himself instead. The guys obviously terrified him when they tied him up this time. No doubt there were some threats exchanged.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he croaks weakly.
“That’s a first,” Key mutters, but there’s no bite in his tone.
I give Jason a final nod before turning back toward the kitchen. “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry. Just...don’t get any ideas.”
Jason nods, sinking down gingerly onto the couch like a deflated balloon. The guys exchange glances, but they seem satisfied enough for now. As I walk back to the kitchen, I can’t help but feel lighter. Like maybe, just maybe, things are finally starting to settle.
At least until the next wave of chaos hits.