Page 70 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

For a second, it’s like time stops. Grace stands there, staring at us, her mouth slightly open, her brain clearly struggling to catch up to what’s happening. The three of us are standing in the doorway like something out of a horror movie–black-clad, masked and towering over her–and for the first few heartbeats, all I see is raw shock on her face.

Exactly what I wanted.

I feel a surge of satisfaction as her wide eyes take us in, her breath catching in her throat. I take a step forward, but that’s as far as I get.

Before I can even reach for her, or even say a word, her instincts kick in. Her whole body reacts faster than I can register. Dropping the spoon, her face twists into a mask of sheer panic, and her knee comes up.

Hard.

Right between my legs.

The moment her knee connects, everything goes white-hot.

There’s no sound. No thought. Just blinding, searing pain that explodes through my body like a bomb detonating in slow motion. It’s not just in my groin–it’s everywhere, spreading like wildfire from the epicenter. Radiating outward and stealing my breath, it locks every muscle in place.

I’ve been shot before. I’ve taken hits that should have knocked me flat, but nothing–nothing–compares to the agony that comes from a perfectly placed knee straight to the balls.

Time slows. The world tilts. I don’t even realize I’m falling until I’m on my knees, clutching myself with both hands, my vision narrowing to a tunnel of pure pain.

I hear someone gasp. Grace, maybe? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fire burning between my legs, and the fact that I might never walk again.

Everything’s silent. The room is frozen, like someone hit pause on reality. Even Key, who’s always the first to crack a joke, is stunned into stillness, his eyes wide behind his mask. Atlas looks like a damn statue, looming over us, not moving an inch.

For a second, there’s nothing but the ringing in my ears and the cold, hard floor beneath me.

Then, finally, with every ounce of strength I can muster, I force one word out of my mouth, low and broken: “Nutcracker.”

The word echoes in the silence, hanging there for just a heartbeat before all hell breaks loose.

Key is the first to crack. He’s doubled over in an instant, his body shaking with laughter, the sound spilling out of him in loud, uncontrollable waves.

“Oh my God–holy shit–Nutcracker!” He howls, barely able to get the words out between gasps of laughter. “Teddy, you just–she just–right in the nuts!”

Atlas tries to hold it together–tries–but he’s no match for the absurdity of the situation. A low rumble escapes him, the sound deep and vibrating from his chest, his massive shoulders heaving. “Nutcracker,” he repeats, his voice half-choked with amusement, unable to hold back anymore.

Meanwhile, Grace is still frozen, her eyes wide with shock. It takes a few more seconds and then she suddenly snaps out of it. “Oh my God,” she breathes, horror flooding her face as the realization dawns. “Oh my God, Teddy–I didn’t mean to! I thought-”

She rushes forward, hands flapping uselessly as if she can somehow undo what she’s done. “I’m so sorry! I thought you were–I mean, I didn’t know it was you!”

I can’t answer her. I’m still crumpled on the floor, curled into myself, every muscle locked in a defensive knot, trying–and failing–to breathe through the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. All I can do is squeeze my eyes shut and hope that I survive this long enough to retaliate later.

“I didn’t-” Grace’s voice breaks, panicked and frantic as she hovers over me. “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I thought it was–oh God, Teddy, are you okay?!”

Key is no help at all. He’s practically rolling on the floor at this point, tears streaming down his face as he gasps for air, barely able to breathe through his laughter. “Oh man– You should’ve seen– When she-” He breaks off into another fit of hysterical cackling, holding his sides as if they might split from the force of it.

Atlas, ever the strong, silent type, isn’t much better. He’s still shaking with laughter, his hands resting on his knees as he bends over, his massive frame quaking with each silent chuckle. He tries to stand up straight, to get a grip, but every time he looks at me–still on the floor, writhing in agony–he loses it all over again.

Grace, meanwhile, looks like she’s about to cry. Her face is flushed red, her hands flitting nervously as she tries to figure out what to do. “Teddy, I’m so sorry, I thought you were– I don’t know, someone breaking in, I didn’t know-”

I manage to lift my head just enough to glare at her in betrayal. “You kneed me,” I groan, my voice barely a whisper. “In the balls.”

With that, something changes.

Her face, flushed with panic just moments ago, suddenly softens. Her lips quiver, not with fear, but with the unmistakablebeginnings of amusement. Her eyes, wide and guilty, sparkle with a kind of realization that’s about to undo me completely.

And then she breaks.

Grace, the sweet, innocent Grace who just nearly destroyed my ability to ever have children, bursts out laughing.

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