15. Chapter 12 - Hillary
“ I ’ve never had Christmas in a secret dungeon before.”
Lucky’s cheerful declaration was met with an irritated grunt from the bearded Viking seated beside him.
We were driving to the Palace—Joey in the driver’s seat, as usual, with me in the passenger seat alongside her, despite vehement protests from her and Kellan.
We needed to take one vehicle to the safe house for safety’s sake, and Kellan couldn’t sit up front in case anyone with interest spotted us. Sure, it was unorthodox for me to be up there, but certainly less obvious than either of them.
So, my two companions sat side by side in the rear seat, one a giddy bundle of energy like an untrained puppy, the other a broody ogre who apparently worshipped the Grinch.
The Grinch and Max. That’s who they were. I almost snorted into my coffee mug. Joey cocked a questioning eye in my direction, but I waved her off, choosing to keep that little observation to myself.
I’d blindfolded Lucky, like Aaron had been. He had willingly allowed me to tie the black silk around his face with sly mutters of, “You and Conan have the same kinks, eh, Blondie?”
Kellan, since he’d set up the facility, didn’t need it. Four people in the universe knowing the location of this place was enough.
After deciding I wasn’t spending one second with my father for the holiday and not wanting Aaron to be alone or Kellan to waste the day away working, I’d come up with the insane plan to spend Christmas together. In an apocalypse-proof safe house.
Naturally, our captive had to come with us. I knew nothing about Lucky’s private life, other than he had been staying with his mother—if that cover story even held—so I had no idea if, had we not shoved a tracker into his arm and held him in flexible captivity, he even had someone to spend Christmas with in America.
I’d felt guilty about that for the briefest of moments, before remembering he was actually trying to play me for a payout, and then the guilt of forcing an Alpha male Christmas on him dissipated immediately.
He certainly didn’t seem upset by it—he was outright excited to glimpse what he called my “Armageddon Barbie House.”
Biting my lip, I took another swallow of coffee to hide my growing amusement. Lucky’s wit was a secret indulgence I allowed myself. That he annoyed the shit out of Kellan was just a side bonus.
Kel lan. I snuck a glance in the rearview mirror to catch the blond God unapologetically staring at me, as if conducting a rare jewelry appraisal. Dark blue eyes stared intensely through mine, the range of emotions passing in a flash I couldn’t pick out a single one.
Our last ‘session’ had changed something between us. The bullshit he regularly spewed about protecting me or not protecting me was absent, but I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that he had been staking a claim for Aaron’s sake; like I was a prize between them he needed to covet.
Admittedly, knowing he’d watched Aaron and I fucking like rabbits by hacking my private feeds was a massive red flag, but also incredibly hot. The timing felt too coincidental, though—like he was afraid he’d lose all of me to Aaron, so he needed to remind me he could give me what I needed, too.
He'd proven that over and over in the bedroom—but in real life?
I was waiting for him to turn back into the sullen, self-destructive Viking again, where he pushed me out the door with my ass on the pavement, while watching through his security cameras to make sure I got home safely.
Aaron had painstakingly proven over our entire lives I could trust him with my heart. It took years for me to wake up, but I finally could see the hold he had on me—and my hold on him.
Kellan hadn’t earned that trust. He would protect me in the ways he thought appropriate, even if it meant running away. I wasn’t willing to hand him my heart on a platter for a slew of hollow promises.
Lucky I barely trusted, but it was a finicky line. Sure, I’d taken all necessary precautions; a tracker, several cameras, and a beefy Viking bodyguard to keep him in check, but he was an integral part of our plan, so now I was bringing him to my secure facili ty.
If I was being really honest with myself, our chemistry was undeniable; even now, blindfolded and a sitting duck, the smooth line of his jaw, pouty lips set into a permanent smirk, and the way he filled out his jacket… Lucky was undeniably hot.
Fine and fuckable, and his inability to treat me like a scary billionaire princess was refreshing and attractive. He was trying to steal from me—what he was after, I still didn’t know—but he could have taken a very different approach. He could have been sniveling and simpering; worse, he could have had tiny dick syndrome, where he attempted to “put me in my place” with bravado and fake Big Dick Energy.
Lucky had done none of these things. I could never be sure this personality he was presenting was genuine, but… I did believe... Somehow. Risking a lobotomy, I could admit he was growing on me, but I couldn’t see a way through this without someone killing him.
Probably Aaron, since apparently Lucky was becoming Kellan’s other sex toy. Aaron had made no secret he’d squash Lucky like an insignificant bug if I’d let him.
Perhaps I would. If he betrayed us, I’d use the fly swatter myself.
But today, we were not killing each other. We were going to eat the catered turkey dinner sitting in the warming dishes in the trunk and pretend we could all get along for a few hours before heading back to our real, fucked up lives.
So… just like my usual family Christmas dinners. How depressing.
When we arrived, snow was falling in huge flakes, a romantic setting for a day tainted with false hopes and forced friendships.
We exited the vehicle, Lauchlan surefooted despite the lack of sight, and circled the car to grab our things.
I turned to my most trusted hired help.
“ Joey, head home for the rest of the day. I’ll take the emergency vehicle back to the condo. You deserve Christmas with your family.”
“Hill—”Kellan started.
“I’m a trained killer.” I interrupted, pointing to my chest. I pointed at him. “You are a trained killer.” I pointed at Lucky. “He’s bait.” I ignored the sputters of indignant protest and continued. “Do you really think we’re safer with Joey?”
It was a test—would he relent, or would he snarl and rave about all the ways I needed protection?
After a mute stare down of exchanged eye daggers, he rolled his eyes, grabbed the box of takeout containers from the trunk, and stomped through the snow toward the rear door.
Lauchlan cocked his head as if heavily focusing on something, and then moved to follow the sound of Kellan’s footsteps, heading in almost the exact direction.
Huh. So, the man was also trained in sensory deprivation. We needed to delve deeper into his skill sets, because swindling rich people seemed to be only the tip of the iceberg.
I grabbed his elbow to guide him to the door, unlocking it with my eye scan and thumbprint. Then I led them both down the steep concrete steps into the bowels of the basement.
Lucky’s cherry cola and cedar scent clung to me as I steered him in the right direction. His soothing cologne eased my growing nerves at what I’d gotten myself into.
Despite it all, I found the con man’s presence reassuring. A therapist would have a field day.
I let him go so I could open the secure door to the apartment. Ushering the two men inside the entrance alcove, I closed the door behind us.
My thoughts drifted to Sandra and Alec upstairs. Did they know today was Christmas Day? Had the madness of sit ting under bright lights twenty-four hours a day made Sandra lose all sense of time yet?
I hoped she still held a semblance of her sanity to understand her family was sick with worry while she slowly succumbed to her fate.
Her husband had filed a missing persons report and was making a stink on local news channels, begging the public for information. She wouldn’t be coming home. She could slip away into lunacy for a few months before I gave her what she needed to end her life herself. It was the only mercy I would give her.
I removed Lucky’s blindfold with quick fingers, the heat of his skin making me intimately aware of his touch. His sea-glass green eyes twinkled, curiosity dancing in them as he stared back at me.
“And the Lord said, ‘let there be light,’ and she was truly feckin’ stunning.”
He winked lasciviously after that nonsensical sentence. Then his impish grin widened as he kicked off his boots and waltzed through the door without another word.
Kellan huffed an irritated sigh and followed him, boots, coat and all.
“Hey! Take your boots off!” I called, trailing behind him after removing mine. “This is a home, you barbarian!”
“Oy, I call him that, too!” Lucky exclaimed gleefully as his gaze swept around the apartment. He whistled appreciatively. “Nicest dungeon I’ve ever been to.” He promptly plopped himself on my couch, assuming his usual position with his feet up and head back, like he was back in my condo in Carlisle.
Before I could scold him properly, Aaron walked out of the little hall leading to the bathroom, his dark hair slicked back and tucked behind the ears from a fresh shower. A tight, black, long-sleeve athletic tee stretched across the muscles of his chest in the most delicious way. Black, athletic track pants, the kind made from moistu re-wicking material that molded around a man’s ass and thighs, made everything about his strong body stand out.
In all the years I’d known him, Aaron wore a suit to almost every occasion; seeing him look like a regular man was a treat—although truthfully, Aaron could never look like a regular anything.
Lucky had gone casual today, too. He removed his jacket to reveal a form-fitting olive green Henley with waffle stitching, the cut of the casual clothing expensive and showing off every smooth line of his defined shoulders and arms. Dark, fitted jeans stretched across his hips, accentuating a biteable bubble butt.
His bright green Grinch socks betrayed his manly persona, and I nearly choked on my earlier comparison. A teenage boy trapped in an elaborate, eye-catching portrait of the perfectly masculine form.
“ Mi Reina .” Aaron pulled me into his arms, wrapping me into his embrace, vanilla and sandalwood enveloping me in a comforting cocoon. I settled against his chest for a brief moment, before leaning back to catch sight of his depthless caramel eyes.
Before I could breathe a word, his lips were on mine, a forceful crash of teeth and tongues as he devoured me. He cupped my cheeks and pinned me in place until he had finished his exploration.
“Aye, well, that’s new.” Lucky’s voice broke me from my lustful fog; I turned to see two men watching us with hunger in their eyes; a dangerous simmer in Kellan’s, a wicked glimmer in Lauchlan’s.
Right—this is just one of the many reasons this was a bad idea.
“It is.” Aaron agreed, releasing me to turn me around to face the men. My back settled into his chest as he banded his arms around my front. “And it is not. Perhaps you should have tried the choking, yes?”
Luc ky’s burst of laughter broke the growing tension in the room, the well of chuckles bringing tears to his eyes. “You made a joke! I didn’t know you had it in you, Mr. Roboto.” He wiped his face with his palm, the enormous grin bursting at the seams. “Good for you.”
My Viking protector was beside me in an instant, having set down the dishes and removed his coat. The tight white dress shirt he wore stretched across his gigantic frame; every colorful tattoo was a bold shadow beneath the thin layer of fabric. Tight navy trousers stuck to his thick thighs like a second skin, the outline of a well-endowed man on full display. His blond hair hung down to his shoulders, tousled from the wind and snow.
The man was the epitome of rugged masculinity and perfectly crafted workmanship, a rough gemstone pulled from the earth, too perfect in its raw form to be tampered with by a jeweler’s touch.
He took my chin between his fingers, but his intense stare was unreadable when he sandwiched my compact frame between his and Aaron’s large, domineering bodies.
He brought his mouth to mine in a demanding kiss, parting my lips and searing my skin with his hot tongue and controlling presence. His body pushed me deeper into Aaron’s, the rigid outline of his hardening length digging into my back.
When the commanding Alpha-hole was satisfied he’d properly staked his claim, I pushed out from between them, wriggling my way into my own personal space.
“As much as I’m all about group activities”—I looked down my nose at the pair of them with a pointed frown—“I refuse to be the pawn of some caveman chess match, okay?”
Lucky’s hand wrapped around my biceps, gently pulling me between his arms in a loose hold. When I blinked up at him in surprise, he smirked down at me, the quirk of his lips a tempting offer.
“ So, it’s a bad idea to offer my lips as tribute, too, Blondie?”
“No!” came the resounding response from the two possessive men behind me. I hastily shoved out of Lucky’s arms before any of them could resort to a battle for dominance.
I did not need to kick anyone’s ass today—not on Christmas.
“Before this goes any further, let me make something clear. You”—I pointed to Lauchlan and threw him my sternest glare, the one used to make businessmen quiver; he didn’t even bat an eye—“are our captive, not a member of the club.”
I spun on my heel to face the others, desperately hoping this admission wouldn’t change the course of our day. My voice stayed strong, but my gaze pleaded for understanding. “I care about both of you and I’m not choosing between you, so let’s try to work through that over turkey.”
Neither man batted an eye at that statement either— was I losing my touch? —as if they’d expected this outcome, and they’d already made their peace with it.
That was… unexpected.
“And, if we can’t work through that over turkey,” Lauchlan piped up unhelpfully, “I’m a very happy voyeur. Promise you won’t know I’m here.” He mimed zipping his lips. He paused, then mimed un zipping his lips. “I can take my dick out, though, right? I mean, if I can’t partake, I’d like to at least—”
“Fuck off, Capericita Roja ,” Kellan growled, his blazing eyes turning his wrath onto the lippy Irishman. “You’re not a part of this.”
The belly laugh that escaped through Aaron’s lips was a sound I had never heard in my lifetime. It started as a rolling chuckle, then rose to a crescendo of outright guffaws.
The sheer joy on his face was beautiful; raw and enigmatic. The rarity of it made it a precious commodity.
Kellan—or rather , Kellan at Lucky’s expense—had brought it out of him. My heart stuttered at the brilliance of it; his caramel eyes were backlit like he’d tasted genuine joy.
I was desperate to see more of it. I wanted to be the source of it.
“ Capericita Roja! ” My serious businessman chortled, slapping his thigh and leaning against the back of the couch to stabilize himself. “That is perfect, my friend. Capericita Roja .”
Lucky cocked his head in veiled confusion. “Glad we’re all making jokes at my expense,” he tutted lightly. “Can we eat now? I don’t want Mr. Roboto having an aneurism after discovering his sense of humor.”
Masculine pissing party over, Aaron and Kellan removed the takeout containers for the catering box, setting everything out on the table while I directed Lucky’s help in setting out the silverware. It was an odd dance of domestic activity, and yet we all played our parts like the cogs of a well-honed machine, moving in sync to the sound of clattering dishes and Lucky unapologetically humming “The Bad Touch” by the Bloodhound Gang .
The meal was surprisingly hot, and I ate it with enthusiasm, realizing with every bite that despite sitting in an underground bunker beneath two tortured prisoners, despite spending it with three criminals with the most complicated web of connection we could have bargained for, and despite being estranged from the family who’d given me life, this was the most pleasant Christmas dinner I’d ever had.
Lucky ate four helpings of Yorkshire pudding. They’d been a favorite of my grandmother, so I always included them with a traditional meal, though Daddy ignored any form of carbs.
“Ma used to bake Yorkshire puddings for Christmas dinner before she came to America,” he mused before he bit into h is third pastry. “Dreadful cook, though. They were hard as stone.” He popped it into his mouth in one bite, chewed and swallowed. “My compliments to the chef!” he declared.
They were a favorite of mine, too—one of the few English foods I enjoyed.
“ Bunuelos ,” Aaron murmured thoughtfully, a tiny smile taking hold of the corners of his lips as he took another Yorkshire pudding of his own. “Colombian fritters. Our cook made them when I was a boy. They are still my favorite.”
Kellan’s permanent scowl lifted and a rare warmth entered his cold eyes. “I love bunuelos . We made kanelbuller before Mamma was killed. It’s like a Swedish cinnamon bun,” he said, glancing around at our blank looks.
His mother had been killed. How had I never thought to ask where his mother was? There was nothing online about her—no trace at all. I’d tried to find out through my sources, but we had never broached the subject. I didn’t want to talk about mine, and surely, he’d know all about Helen Lane from his own stalking of me—but not once had I tried to ask him about it.
Shame flushed down my neck for a brief moment, flooding my insides with uncomfortable heat. If Kellan wanted to become something more than my would-be protector, I needed to know more about him. Would he share the darkness of his past with me, or would we be trapped in a stalemate of false dependence?
Lucky, thankfully, used his cheeky powers for good.
“I didn’t know that about you, Kell-Bell. You look like you’ve never eaten a cinnamon bun in your life.” He patted his equally flat stomach and grinned, turning his attention to me. “Happy to see you have taste buds after all, Blondie. I was afraid you’d make us eat tofu-turkey and unbuttered Brussel sprouts.”
Sco ffing, I grabbed another Yorkshire pudding, smothered it in a heaping serving of gravy, and quirked a challenging brow in his direction.
“My body is a temple, Lucky. But unbuttered brussel sprouts? Yuck.”
We continued to eat in relatively comfortable silence until the meal was done. Pushing back from the table, I gathered the empty plates and brought them to the counter, pleased when all three men rose to help.
We settled to the living room couches with glasses of wine once everything was cleaned up. Aaron unceremoniously grabbed me and placed me in his lap; Kellan and Lucky sat opposite us on the giant sectional.
As unorthodox as this day was, I was determined to bring some sense of normalcy to our lives, even for the briefest of moments before everything in our sights devolved into chaos. Normalcy on Christmas day meant presents.
“Okay, since it's Christmas, I have a little something for you.”
Lucky’s head perked up. “Presents?”
Kellan’s semi-relaxed expression soured into a surly frown. “Killer—”
I held up two fingers to shush him.
“Fuck off, Kellan dearest,” I cooed, smiling sweetly. “Gifts are my love language, so you’ll take my present like a good boy.”
Aaron muffled a chuckle against my neck, and I didn’t miss Lucky’s sly smirk. Kellan’s cool gaze was unimpressed by my taunting, but he put his scowl back in his pocket for later.
Shifting in Aaron’s arms, I stood to grab the small wrapped presents in the deep pockets of my coat. Handing them each a package, I retook my position in my gorgeous Colombian’s lap.
“ Okay, open!” I commanded, unable to stifle the wide grin creeping across my face. “Lucky, last,” I amended with a giggle, his crestfallen expression pulling an outright laugh out of me.
Gifts were my love language. Money was a tool to be wielded most of the time. To build businesses, to build dreams, to build lifestyles and security; and to bring joy to those you loved.
I had more money than I’d ever be able to spend in twenty lifetimes. Much went to businesses building new, better products to improve people’s lives—some went to charity, and, admittedly, some went to the frivolous things that I enjoyed in life. Like Louboutin shoes, Jaguars, and gifts for the people I cared about.
In this case, that meant one for Lucky, too.
When nobody moved, I elbowed Aaron in the ribs. “All right, you first.”
He gently pulled me to the side, sitting me firmly on his thigh, holding me in place with one arm, while he reached around to unwrap the dainty black box in his other hand.
He untied the delicate lace bow with reverence and flicked open the lid with caressing fingers. His muscles tensed around me at the sight of my gift.
“ Mi Reina .” His voice was barely audible as he pulled the platinum ring from its bedding and held it up to the light.
The ring was custom-made, worth a small fortune, and inlaid with a precious Mozambique ruby. The round cut gemstone was almost identical to the necklace he’d gifted me years ago.
He noticed.
“Almost a perfect match.” He pulled off the elaborate gold family crest ring he wore on his right ring finger and replaced it with mine. “Perfect fit.” He mused, then pulled me tighter into his arms. “Thank you.”
“ Rubies represent passion and protection.” I wrapped my small fingers around his large hand and squeezed, smiling up into the warmth of his eyes. “Fitting, right?”
“And wealth.” Lucky piped up before Aaron could respond. “You two are the wealthiest fuckers I know, so makes sense to me.” He flipped me a lazy wink. I flipped him the finger.
“Your turn, Viking.” While distracted by Aaron’s opening, I hadn’t missed the fact that Kellan hadn’t taken his eyes off his present, holding it in his hands as if it were a bomb about to detonate.
He wasn’t used to people being generous without an ulterior motive, and it showed. My heart ached for the man who’d learned to trust no one so young. My lessons had come much older.
When he lifted his gaze to meet mine, I glimpsed his warring emotions, but I could not separate any single one from the whole. What I would give to decipher this man’s thoughts.
Would the man ever be able to let me in? Could I let him in?
He let out an exasperated sigh, then ripped open the package between his palms, far less delicately than the careful businessman. He held up the pendant in front of his face, scrutinizing its details.
“It’s tungsten.” I stood, clasped his hand and turned it over in his palm. The hand-crafted amulet was a replication of Thor’s Hammer, with the engraved Viking trident symbol, Algiz .
“The trident symbol means protection.” Taking the amulet from his hand, I reached around and secured it around his neck. The pendant fell just below his sternum between his pec muscles. Cupping his bearded cheeks in my palms, I stared deep into conflicted, navy pools. “You have always been my sword and shield, Viking. Thank you.”
Gif ts made him mute, apparently. He cleared his throat gruffly, acknowledged my words with a brief nod, then lightly gripped my wrists, removing my hands from his face.
“Thank you,” he muttered, though fingering the amulet at his chest. The air was thick with unnamed emotion, so I hurried on to my final giftee.
“Your turn.”
When I turned to Lucky, he was staring at me with unbridled curiosity. For a brief moment, his eyes carried none of the mischievous, calculating energy; instead, they held a softness, an openness I wasn’t used to seeing. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the sea-glass tone was a brilliant shade of moss green—pure and captivating.
As soon as I saw it, the window into perhaps the true Lucky melted back into the impish glint of a naughty boy.
Good. He would like his present, then.
He tore into the wrapping like said naughty boy and unwrapped a theater-sized bag of Skittles.
“For me?” He gasped, playing up the gift like he’d received a priceless prize, and held it to his chest. “I simply couldn’t , Blondie. You really know the way to a man’s heart.”
He ripped open the bag and promptly popped an entire handful into his mouth.
“Thank you, love.” He turned his attention to the other two men in the room, whose brows were furrowed into matching frowns. “Gentlemen, I’m the winner tonight. I don’t care how much you can pawn your trinkets off for. Skittle?”
When he held the bag out to me with a wink, I wrinkled my nose in distaste. “No, thanks. Enjoy.”
I padded back to the oversized chair to cuddle back up into Aaron’s lap. We relaxed into an unsettled silence. Kellan’s brooding emotions and Lucky’s obnoxious candy chewing filled the void for the better part of several minutes.
Att empting to create a Christmas day with the two men I cared about and our captive probably hadn’t been my greatest idea. Gifts for them likely wasn’t the best play, either. But spending Christmas in a bunker, avoiding our toxic bloodlines, and removing us from the insanity of our lives for just one day had been the only move I could make on the board today.
The gnawing feeling in my gut told me our lives were about to get so much worse.
“Let’s play a game,” Lucky drawled, naturally the one to break the silence. His mischievous gaze flicked back and forth between the three of us. “Never have I ever? I’ll start. Never have I ever… had a threesome with a man between me and a woman.”
He grabbed his drink from the coffee table before a dastardly smirk split his lips in two. “No, wait. Done that. Lots, actually. What do you say, Kell-Bell? You taking a drink?”
“No,” came Kellan’s stilted reply, thick eyebrows raised in exasperated annoyance.
“You’re telling me you’ve never had someone rail your arse while you're balls deep in a woman? Fuck, Conan, you’re missin’ out on a pure taste of Heaven.”
He held out his wineglass, gesturing with it toward me before taking a long pull of the red liquid. “You can rail me while I rail her anytime. I love a quick trip to visit my pal Jesus.”
Biting my lip, I held in my giggle for as long as I could. My body shook in Aaron’s arms, before the girlish sound burst from my lips, evolving into a full fit of sniggering choked breaths.
Aaron held my wine as I writhed in his lap. Ab muscles clenching in fists, I laughed hard enough to fulfill an exorcism. The tension in the room, in my body, in our tiny little world broke completely.
“ It wasn’t that funny,” Kellan muttered drily over m y noise; I laughed even harder.
“I broke her.” Lucky chuckled, his eyes alight with amusement, the pride in wearing me down all over his handsome, boyish face.
“She cannot be broken,” Aaron deadpanned, but I caught a quirk of his lips in my periphery as I wiped away tears.
“You’re right.” Aaron handed me back my glass, and I drew a long swig before facing the three men, now completely entrenched in my life and my mission.
“I can’t be broken, gentlemen.” I raised my gla ss in a toast. “So don’t even try.”