Page 12 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

Teddy chooses that moment to place a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, warmth blossoming low in my belly. Wrapping my hands around it, I pull it close and thank him. He offers me a gentle smile, his fingers brushing softly across the back of my hand before he takes his seat again.

“So,” I take a sip, moaning at the delicious taste, even if it does burn all my taste buds on the way down. “Who are you guys exactly?”

“Killers, Sugar. We’re killers.”

Chapter Six

We’re killers.

Key groans again as Atlas sticks him with another elbow to the ribs.

“Fuck man, lay off it! I’m only telling her straight. I don’t think she’s the type of girl who’d appreciate pretty lies.”

He’s right. I hate lies. The adrenaline starts pumping and my heart skips quite a few beats with those first words out of his mouth. My mind suddenly revs into overdrive, knowing I’m locked in with three huge, hulking killers who could eat me for breakfast. Only, that rush of adrenaline soon turns into something completely different and utterly delicious when I realize they could,quite literally, eat me for breakfast.

It’s no wonder why my mind recovered so quickly from Jason’s revelations. Apparently, sex on the brain is the cure for all. Freaking horndog of a mind.

I purse my lips, trying to keep my expression level as I take another sip. “Key’s right. I’d much prefer the cold, hard truth.”Giving him an appreciative smile, he throws another wink my way. All of his pain forgotten, and all of my fantasies revealed.

Holy mistletoe.

“There are still better ways of explaining what we do,” Teddy admonishes, giving Key a warning glare which he simply shrugs off. Teddy turns his focus back to me before continuing. “We are mercenaries for hire. We kill people, but only those who have been proven to do harm to others, and only after we’ve scrutinized the evidence ourselves.”

“So, you’re kind of like vigilantes. Paid protectors, if you will?”

Teddy smirks, a look of relief and appreciation flashing across his face. “Something like that.”

I hum, sipping at my coffee. “And how does one get into that sort of…business?”

“We were in the military. Serving our country was…difficult.” His brow furrows as he leans forward on his elbows, his hands clasped together in front of him as he rubs his fingers back and forth across his knuckles. “We were made to do things that went against our morals, all for the sake of surviving and not being incarcerated for going against direct orders. It was a challenging time.”

Teddy’s eyes cloud over with memories of times long past, leaving Key to take over. His tone of voice and demeanor is completely serious for the first time since they barged their way through the door.

“Being in separate companies, we didn’t actually meet until we’d been discharged from service.”

Leaning his stool back onto two legs, he kicks a foot up on the island. I allow the movement this once as he’s obviously recalling something that makes him very uncomfortable. Using it to distance himself, it also serves to keep himself grounded and connected to his brothers in arms.

“Arriving back, we all suffered from PTSD and struggled to re-integrate with society. The one good thing that came out of our experience is the volunteer service that picked us all up.” The beginning of a smile tugs at his lips as he recalls their meeting together. “It was the first group session, and we all headed in thinking it was bullshit. Even more so when they got us to do an icebreaker.”

Atlas shivers next to me. “It was horrible,” he comments gruffly. Teddy just laughs.

“Yeah, it was. Like being in high school all over again.” Putting his feet down, Key settles back with his arms on the countertop, a lightness overtaking the dark memories they’re all plagued with as he locks eyes with me. “And I just so happened to be put with these bozos.”

In a burst of motion, Key leaps out of his chair, narrowly dodging Atlas’s elbow with a nimble twist. He flicks Atlas's ear, then ducks behind me, his grin pure mischief. Atlas grits his teeth, his fists clenching as Key chuckles, smug and satisfied.

I know exactly what Key’s doing, but so does Atlas. He’s baiting him, trying to lure Atlas from his seat to steal the spot by my side. I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. Key's playful energy is already smoothing out the rough edges inside me.

“The sessions helped to a certain degree,” Teddy continues. “But they never could calm our anger at the whole situation. It was only when we met another buddy who was discharged just before us that we found out about this line of work. He took us on a few runs with him. Each one of the bastards he took out had an extensive history on the unsavory side of things. With each life taken–and each life saved–we noticed how much better we felt. We were able to release our frustrations and take it out on those who deserved our ire, while protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. We felt useful again.”

“Basically, he took us under his wing, and we’ve never looked back,” Key chirps, not noticing the glare Teddy levels him with for interrupting him again. He’s far too busy staring intently at my face, waiting for a reaction. I swear, he’s worse than a kid hyped up on sugar!

I ignore him as he hops up onto the island next to me, his signature cheeky smile firmly in place. Instead, I focus on Teddy and Atlas, their eyes locked on mine, watching for any hint that I might bolt. They don’t realize just how close to home their story really is.

"I can see it written all over your faces...you're wondering why I'm not freaking out right now," I say with a soft smile. They exchange uneasy glances before giving small nods.

“My dad was in the service too. He had severe PTSD when he came home from active duty. So much so he had his own room and made sure the door was deadbolted at night.” My heart pangs at his loss. It may have been a fair few years ago now, but it never gets any easier. “He wasn’t as lucky as you guys.”

I grip my mug harder as I stare down into its murky depths. Atlas shifts closer, his thigh rubbing up against mine under the counter as he drapes his hand across the back of my chair.

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