Page 40 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

As Key hoists me over his shoulder, I can't help but let out an exasperated sigh, but I let him have it.

I twist slightly to look back at Jason, held up at Teddy and Atlas’ mercy. A small, mischievous part of me wants one last parting shot. So, as Key turns to carry me out of the room, I wiggle my fingers in a cheeky little wave.

"Toodloo!" I call out in a sing-song voice, unable to keep the grin off my face.

Key chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest against my stomach. As we pass through the doorway, I catch a glimpse of Jason's stunned and almost terrified expression before he disappears from view.

Huh. Thinking about it, that probably looked more sinister than cutesie with the flames from the fire lighting up my face. Ah well, it’s what he deserves.

I let my body relax, draping over Key's strong shoulder. After everything that's happened, I'm more than happy to let someone else take charge for a bit. My ankle throbs dully, reminding me of the tumble I took earlier. But right now, nestled in Key's secure grip, I feel safer than I have in a long time.

"So," I muse aloud, "what's the plan now? I don't know about you guys, but I could really go for some hot chocolate and Christmas cookies after all that excitement."

Key chuckles as he carries me down the hallway and descends the stairs. "Hot chocolate and cookies sound perfect, Sugar. Let's get you patched up first though."

I hum in agreement, realizing my ankle is starting to throb more insistently now that the immediate danger has passed.

“Did you guys fix the breaker?” I ask distractedly as I take in the errant bullet holes in the walls and furniture that are highlighted by the rays of moonlight shining in through the floor to ceiling windows.

“No, it looked pretty fried when we checked it. But then again, we were looking at it in only a sliver of light from the flashlight while being shot at. We’ll check it properly in the morning when there’s more natural light. For now, we’ll light some candles and get the fires roaring. We can cook some hot chocolate the old fashioned way.”

I only half acknowledge his words. Even though I just suggested it, hot chocolate and cookies are now the furthest thing from my mind as my heart kicks up a notch and thrums in panic. It finally sinks in that while I was locked in the bathroom with Jason, they were being targeted by the hostage.

“You guys are alright though, aren’t you? You’re not injured?”

“Atlas caught a bullet to the arm but-”

Worrying, I push myself up on Key’s shoulders and begin to run my hands over his shoulders and face, checking for injuries. I’ll start with him and then check Atlas over next.

He chuckles, swatting my hands away with his free one.

“Sugar, I’m fine and so is Atlas. It was only a superficial graze, nothing a little band-aid won’t sort out. Now, stop worrying.”

Propping myself up on his shoulders, I try to look him in the eye to make sure he’s not lying. “You’d tell me if you were hurt though, right?”

He grins, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. “After the royal telling off you gave Teddy when we first met, I don’t think we’d ever consider hiding it from you again,” he says with a wink as he swats my ass. “Now settle down, I’m enjoying this caveman act. You should too.”

That gets a little chuckle out of me. One that promptly dies off when I realize I forgot to check on Teddy’s stitches.

“What about Teddy’s stitches, he hasn’t pulled them has he?” I feel Key’s shoulders tense, the movement making my heart flutter in panic. “He did, didn’t he? Is he ok-”

“He had us remove them, sugar.”

I blink rapidly, my mind trying to keep up.

“He- What?”

“They were irritating him, so he had us remove them for him.”

“Key! You can’t do that! They need to stay in until he’s fully healed. Why did you help him?”

He scoffs. “Because he’s an adult, sugar. And I’m sure you’d agree, no-one would want to get on his bad side.”

“Okay, I can agree to that,” I mumble. “But still!”

“Honestly, he’s alright. His wound had healed sufficiently that he shouldn’t need the stitches anymore. And I know,” he swats my ass, “before you interrupt, he knows it could leave an ugly scar. But he doesn’t care much for the vanity aspect of things.”

I huff, deflating to rest my elbow on Key’s shoulder and my chin on my hand. “Fine. Freaking tough cookie hitmen.” Key chuckles.

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