Chapter 26 #6
“If I didn’t already have plans for Jonas Kelly, I’d have plans,” I snarl, digging my fingernails into my own arm until it hurts.
“That was nothing. Just an old memory. Not sure the voters will like it though.” Ash’s eye totally twitches, so I march over to him, grabbing him by the elbow of his black hoodie.
He has no idea what sort of clothes he really likes, so he’s been wearing everything.
Grunge. Preppy. Goth. Still loves the bright sneakers though. Today he has on orange ones. “Nani?”
“Sit down and relax. You don’t have to make yourself useful to be here and exist with us.
You know that, right? You don’t have to cook or clean or do anything at all.
Not even kill people.” I’m panting hard, frustrated and totally in love with this guy.
Those frogs Shipman put in his bed…he only recently opened up to me about that night. And sparingly, too.
“I like killing people,” Ash admits, almost sheepishly.
We both look over and somehow Bohnes is awake again, watching us.
He hates waking up and finding out there were any developments without his presence.
“And I know that.” Ash turns and takes my hands, peering at me from coffee-brown irises.
Just a dash of color in there. “You also don’t need to keep justifying the presence of the four men in this room.
You can stop doing that, too. It’s not a requirement either. ”
I’m just staring at him. He’s not as nice as he appears. There’s a dash of Aspen inside that wicked blood of his, and this is some of it. He knows what he’s doing, redirecting the conversation away from his trauma and over to some issue of mine. He’s also not wrong, so it’s a good play.
“Did he just admit to sharing a hobby with me?” Bohnes murmurs, only half-awake. If that. I gave him a lot of drugs, and yet, he can’t not-fight against them. How adorable.
“Not a requirement for you, Ash.” Alexei tousles his hair, a habit he only indulges if he’s relatively sure of the overall cleanliness in our cave.
Because Ash is desperate to please—he still believes in his heart that he’s a dead man—he tidies up good.
It’s practically turning Alexei on. “For Scarlett, a necessity. She cares too much about our well-being to ever stop trying. If you take care of her, she takes care of you. The perfect wife.”
What. the. fuck? I knew eventually we’d have to work up a point where each of these guys could be romantic with me and it wouldn’t be a problem with the others. Also, I figured they’d need a lot of time to get comfortable with each other. That does not appear to be the case at all.
For once, I was wrong about something. I thought making a family out of these freaks was going to be so much more difficult. This all feels natural as fuck.
“The perfect wife?” I ask dryly, ignoring Widow’s odd glare as he lords over my left shoulder. “Very cute. Can we refocus on Ash’s trauma here? His father licked his tears.”
Ash flinches.
“Yeah, uh, you want to sort of…explain what we just watched?” Widow says, frustrated, and I realize it’s not me he’s brooding at: it’s Ash. “Your brother killed a bunch of frogs and put them in your bed? Did you think that was normal, at the time?”
“I knew it wasn’t normal,” Ash blurts, like he’s as surprised by Widow’s interrogation as I am. Nice. Having allies is always helpful. “But the memory doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Which is why you fought so hard to save that frog from Shipman, huh?” Widow laughs and shakes his head, hands on his hips, sexy as fuck. “I cannot even believe that I hit the man with my car.”
“Ash needs a snuggle, Widow,” I tease, ducking down and darting away from the pair of them.
I turn and point between the two. “It can be platonic. Just…hug it out. Come on.” I snap my fingers at them, curious to see if this’ll work.
“Touch is healthy when you’re in a life-or-death I’ll-murder-you-if-you-leave sort of commitment. ”
Widow turns back to Ash, frowning.
“You need a hug, man?” Widow asks, like he’s genuinely considering what I just said.
Not angry about it. Thinking, like he’s read something like this in a book.
He educated himself on what feels good for romance, and now he’s using it in real life.
It’s the sexiest part about him. Except…
that’s a really good haircut. Second sexiest thing about him.
“I…suppose.” Ash is as confused as Widow about hugging someone. That’s how fucked-up their backstories are. But we’re done with all that. I know they’re violent. I know they’re traumatized. But they can also love each other in a bromantic sort of way. It’ll be good for them both.
They stand awkwardly as Alexei makes his way over to stand by my side. Bohnes groans and shifts around in his sleep, a temporarily immobilized killer. Very temporary. He’ll be up and at ‘em tomorrow.
Widow sighs and holds out his arms. Ash puts his own around him and they hug each other like they’ve been best buddies since kindergarten.
“What happened to you,” Widow says, voice low and even, “that was fucked-up.”
“I won’t let you die either,” Ash promises as the pair of them separate and stare one another down. Their past hatred is gone. Flash-bang. We’ll call it my pussy magic.
“More like me not letting you die,” Widow retorts, scoffing as he turns away, his gaze catching on Bohnes’ sleeping face. “You won’t have to face Jonas alone ever again. I’ve got your six, Ash.”
“I’ve got yours, too, Adrian,” Ash replies, picking up a stack of towels from the end of the bed before Bohnes accidentally kicks them off in his sleep.
“The tree is being delivered in an hour. If we’re careful about security, we can manage. I’d rather not send it away.” Alexei touches his fingers to his chest and sighs. “It’s Papa’s wedding gift to us.”
Aww. Damn it. I can’t think clearly when he says shit like that.
We should turn down the Christmas tree when it arrives at the front gates.
Letting anything inside this house is a risk.
We’ll have to check for hidden mics, cams, GPS trackers, bio-agents, Trojan horses. That’s how scary Jonas Kelly really is.
Also, I will be damned if I let that motherfucker ruin Christmas for me and my family.
“My crew will manage the tree delivery,” I agree, flicking my gaze over to Alexei. “You’re not getting out of hugging them either.”
His smile is silver-edged and sharp, but also brutally honest.
“I have no problem hugging any of them. I also don’t need you to so desperately try to patch us together, my perfect wife.
It’s not an insult, what I said. It’s a compliment.
” Alexei steps behind me, wrapping his arms around me.
He smells amazing, like soap and latex. “You’ve managed to gather together the sort of people who are willing to return the energy you give.
This is a triumph on your record, Scarlett. Not a mark against it.”
Uh-oh. Emotions. I must stay strong.
“Show me where Mama’s Christmas decorations are kept?” I ask him, turning my head sideways so that his face bumps mine when he leans down again. He kisses me, the slightest brush of warm lips against mine. Not a sexually charged kiss, but a loving one.
“Our Christmas decorations now,” he replies, far too gently for my liking.
He’s trying to get me emotional—and it’s working.
My face heats as I throw myself forward, flinging my arms around Ash so tightly that he grunts.
“I can’t believe I just watched that, Ash. It’s horrible. Psychological torture.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m over it.” So he says, but when he returns my hug, his arms are just as tight as mine. Almost suffocating. I’d have to literally pass out from lack of oxygen before I’d ever pull away.
“It’s a big deal to me, and I love you.” I lift my head up, chin on his chest, and stare into his cursed face and his liquid eyes. “I’m not going to let this one go.”
Ash’s smile is pure and sweet and devastating.
“He’s already planning worse for me, so don’t worry about that.
” Ash chuckles like it’s funny. It’s not, but he has a right to laugh about it if he wants to.
“Falling in love with you, Scarlett, it’s a decadence I never imagined for myself.
Even if I died tomorrow, I’d be happy. This is more than I expected for my life. ”
“Whatever Jonas has planned, I can do worse,” Bohnes mumbles, already half-asleep again. I have a feeling that once the tree gets here, he’s going to drag his zombie ass out of bed to follow us downstairs. Stubborn. “I’m a very capable monster.”
“You are talented,” Ash replies, stroking my hair back from my face with a tenderness that makes the stupid flush on my skin even worse.
Run a train on me, and I’m all smiles. Gaze at me, and I dunno what to do.
I’m such a Prescott bitch at heart. “But you’re not a monster. I’m glad that you’re not.”
Bohnes grumbles, jerking the blankets up and over his shoulders, like he’s offended by that statement.
It’s true though. We mete out vengeance when it’s due; we don’t dispatch cruelty simply because it’s fun.
“So, uh, Christmas.” Widow is flushed too, ruffling up his hair with his fingers. I didn’t think he got flustered over sappy emotions. Nice to see that our similarities continue. “I’ve never decorated for it before. Where do we start?”
“Oh,” Alexei says with a labored sigh, “you poor boys.”
Only Alexei and I know how to have a loving Christmas.
We’ll have to teach Widow, Ash, and Bohnes how to relax and have fun on a holiday. It’ll be a brand-new experience for all three of them. How fucking sad is that?