Page 72 of Holiday Hostage
I relaxed into his ministrations and finished my hot chocolate.
I started to speak, but the front door opened.
It slammed against the wall with a crack that echoed in my ears.
A man barged into the room, his face obscured with a thick mask and fur-lined hood, a shotgun held in both hands and pointed directly at me.
Fur boots and black pants dripped snow onto the rug.
The sight of him stole every ounce of peace I’d gained since escaping the mercenaries.
21
REED
Mav and Tarron leaped to their feet, pistols in hand before I had a chance to take a breath.
I leaped between them, my back to them and facing the man in the open door.
Snow swirled around his feet and the harsh wind tore through the room.
“Is that any way for an old man to greet his only son?” I set my hands on my hips and smirked. “That’s a good way to get yourself shot.”
“Yeah, well.” Dad’s laugh boomed.
He lowered the shotgun barrel so it pointed at the floor and yanked the thick wool layer away from his mouth and nose. “Couldn’t be sure it was you. Never can be too careful. Saw the lights on and thought maybe a bear had decided to hibernate in my cabin like in the Goldilocks story. ”
“It’s me.” My pulse returned to normal when Mav and Tarron lowered their weapons. As for the Goldilocks bit…Payton kind of qualified for that position, only with more integrity.
Mav and Tarron watched the display with matching expressions of shock and concern.
I couldn’t see Payton from here, but I had no doubt she followed the conversation with keen interest.
Dad’s wicked grin took in the whole room.
“Looks like you set yourselves up pretty good. Smells nice too.” He kicked the door closed and stomped his boots on the thick rug. “Thought you were on a mission? You wouldn’t be pulling a fast one on your old man, would you?”
He crossed the room and wrapped me up in a solid embrace that sent pain lancing across my shoulder.
I hid the pain and slapped his back.
“Oh, trust me, we’re on a mission. Got into a little trouble.” I considered my next words.
Dad knew the dangers I faced.
He didn’t like them, but he was the kind of man who took the hits and kept on going.
Most people thought I was the spitting image of Dad when he was younger.
While it was true we shared the same wicked smile and sense of humor, Dad was the more honorable of the two of us. And I definitely had not taken my anger issues from him.
“Shoulda warned me you were planning on throwing a New Year’s party at the cabin. Mission or not.” Dad’s mouth pinched to one side as he removed his thick coat and hung it on a peg by the door.
Snow released from the material and splattered into the absorbent mat Dad kept on the floor year-round.
Once he’d skimmed down to his usual pants and thick thermal shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, he slammed me with another bear hug.
This one lifted me off my feet. “Damn, but it’s good to see you, son.”
