Page 71 of Ruthless Rebel

“Superman, have you seen my daddy?” A muffled voice calls, and Asher quickly tucks himself away, straightening his shirt and jumping to his feet.

“I guess I will take those painkillers now,” I mutter, knowing our little slither of privacy is over, and he shakes his head as he stalks over to the door and pulls it open.

“Hey, Angel, everything okay?” He asks, shifting nervously as his eyes dance back towards me, yet Cassie doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yes, Mommy just said to come and find you and make sure you weren’t being naughty,” she replies simply, and I have to swallow my smirk, but I can tell Ash is still feeling on edge with her finding him here, we haven’t exactly told anyone about the progression of our relationship, least of all her. “Are you being naughty with Lincoln?” She asks innocently.

Asher’s gaze finds mine and I raise my eyebrows, leaving him to answer. “No, of course I’m not, I was just making sure he’s okay, he’s been feeling a little poorly the last couple of days, and we want him better before Santa comes, don’t we?” He replies smoothly, and my heart warms at how easily he protects her from the harsh truths of the world.

“Is that why you’ve not been here, were you looking after him?” She asks, a hint of worry in her voice that seeps its way into my cold, black heart.

“Yes, sorry, Angel, I had to make sure he was okay,” he replies softly, and she smiles.

“You should have called Uncle Lo to give him cuddles, they make everything better,” she tells him simply, and now I can’t hide my smirk.

“Oh I got the best cuddles, Princess, don’t worry,” I beam back, and she nods happily, while Ash glares at me.

“Come on, let’s go find mommy and see if she needs any help,” he cuts in, taking her hand, and she smiles, happily leading him out of the room, but he pauses on the threshold and glares at me. “Painkillers and rest,” he demands. “I’ll come get you when everyone arrives,” he adds, before slipping out of sight with his daughter.

And for someone who was bleeding out two days ago, I can’t help but feel on top of the world for once. Maybe monsters can feel love after all?

36

ASHER

When I was a child I used to hate Christmas, and I never really knew why. It’s only now that I’m older that I realize why I never found comfort in the magic of it, and it’s because there wasn’t any. My mom wasn’t getting us matching pajamas and building gingerbread houses with us, and my father certainly wasn’t hanging around and enjoying the festive fun. It was all parties and servants, businessmen and paid for women, and there wasn’t much time for anything else. The older I got the more I understood that magic wasn’t real, because if it was, then surely I wouldn’t have been left in hell all alone, right?

I thought I would never know the true meaning of Christmas, that I would never enjoy celebrating something most people take for granted. Yet as I sit with my daughter snuggled in my lap, surrounded by the family I chose for myself, it definitely feels a little like magic.

We look like some kind of fucked up Brady Bunch, in a sea of matching pajamas and half-eaten gingerbread houses, but the sound of my daughter’s laughter settles something deep inside my chest. It was never about magic, it was about this, a family with barely any shared blood between them, just living their life the best they can. We’ve all eaten too much, and Elle and Helen have taken far too many pictures of us all, but for once I truly feel content.

When it gets to almost seven, the group starts depleting a little, with the security guys heading off first. I know most of them don’t have families of their own, but a few of them have girlfriends they will be spending the day with, and some of them will be heading back here tomorrow for dinner. The Deckers seemed to have had fun joining us, but are heading out to the back house that Elle had built on the property to continue their festivities together, taking Jace with them.

Marcus and Elle are curled up together, no doubt waiting for me to take Cassie up to bed so they can sneak all of her gifts under the tree, and I take the opportunity to do just that.

“I think it’s bedtime,” I call out, letting everyone fall into the ruse we planned earlier, so Cassie doesn’t protest, as I rise to my feet.

“Oh yes, it’s getting very late, we better head up so we are asleep in time for Santa's visit,” Elle replies, her face looking more excited than Cassie’s, like she thinks I didn’t see the extra presents she has snuck into the basement in the last couple of weeks.

The rest of them start moving slowly, cleaning up, and pretending to get ready for bed, as I cut through the living room.

“Do you really think he’s going to come?” Cassie asks, wiggling excitedly in my arms, and I can’t help but smile, because she knows nothing but magic, and she always will. There is no fear or anxiety, she is just filled with so much light and love, that sometimes I wonder how something so good came from something so bad.

“Of course he’s going to come, Angel,” I tell her as I lead us towards the stairs. “You’re the very top of his list,” I lie easily, making sure she always knows just how special she is.

When we reach her room, it looks like an elf threw up in it, as Elle went all out giving her her own little orange Christmas tree, with decorations and lights on every wall. She switched out her bedsheets to Christmas themed ones, and Jace and Linc seemed to have had a battle to see who could buy the most Christmas themed stuffies.

Knocking half of them to the floor, I pull back her duvet, and then deposit her on the mattress. “Do you think Santa will bring me everything I asked for?” She asks, grabbing the penguin I know Lincoln snuck in here and cuddling it tight.

“Oh, I have it on pretty good authority that he will,” I reply dryly, knowing between Elle and I, and the rest of the Rebels, we have bought every single thing on her list and then some.

Are we spoiling her too much? Yes.

Do I care? No.

I tuck her in and she snuggles down deep into her quilt, nuzzling her head into her pillow before she asks, “What’s Santa bringing you, Daddy?” Her question is so innocent and pure that it melts me.

“I already have everything I need, Angel,” I reply truthfully, long used to not expecting anything for Christmas, and she frowns, but before she can respond, I push on, “Actually, there’s something I want to talk about with you.” Her excited but tired eyes focus on mine, waiting for me to continue, and I inhale a deep breath. “You know how Uncle Logan and Lincoln are boyfriends,” I start carefully, not sure what the best way to approach this is, except with complete honesty.

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