And Scrooge had at one time been the person who helped round them up. I couldn’t fathom the guilt he had to live with. When he finally fights against her, he loses his wife and son because of it.
“And she let him go?”
“No.” He shook his head. “He escaped. She’s been hunting him ever since.”
“And no one’s found him yet?”
“I told you earlier, things move around here. I have been to this cabin before, but it wasn’t here. He moves around a lot. Also, no one dares to come to this mountain.” He dropped his hands from me. “We didn’t run into all the things that protect this peak.”
“That’s good to know.” I rubbed my temple, fatigue taking hold of my muscles.
“Come on. We all could use food, a shower, and a good night’s sleep.” His hand went to my lower back, sending sparks up my spine.
“Sounds like heaven.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you there’s no hot water here.” He led me into the house, snickering.
“You’re an asshole.”
A genuine laugh bounced off the walls from his chest, warming my entire body and filling my heart with all the heat I needed.
Actually, I needed a cold shower.
Chapter 24
Nick sat grumbling at the end of the dining table but didn’t fight too hard when Hare started cooking. The scrumptious smell of eggnog French toast and cranberry-orange muffins filled the house, causing my stomach to rumble furiously.
The front part of the cabin was an open floor plan. The living room, dining room, and kitchen flowed together, making one large room. Stairs led up to a small loft above the living room that was full of books. A hallway leading back into the mountain suggested the bedroom might be down that way, where Dee was resting. It was a rustic and cozy getaway that people would pay money to experience. Fire flickered in the hearth, showing overstuffed worn leather furniture, pine walls and floors, which I took great pleasure stomping on. Bastard pine. There were no holiday decorations or any ornamentation except for a few wool rugs, some playing cards on the table, and a blanket over a chair. It was clean and looked hardly lived in.
Scrooge was seeing to Dee, not seemingly fazed by the unpleasant welcome we got, rummaging in the cupboards looking for some kind of medication for her.
“Do you not have a quiche pan? Seriously?” Hare protested, tossing pans out as Penguin squealed and thumped his flippers on the discarded pans, beating on them like a toddler. Dum was on his knees sitting at a chair, striking his fork and knife in unison with Pen’s racket, eager to eat.
“No. I don’t have a fucking quitch pan… or whatever you call it.” Nick glowered at the rabbit.
“Quiche,” Hare corrected him, cringing at the obnoxious pings oscillating off the pots and pans. “How have you been surviving?” He darted a glare at the floor. “Pen, stop.”
Instead of stopping, Pen started humming and tapping out “Little Drummer Boy.”
“I was fine until you guys invaded my home.” Nick shook his head, glowering at all of us. He shifted in the farm-style wood chair; his arms folded over his chest. “Butter and toast worked fine.”
He sounded similar to a guy I had once dated. His mommy cooked for him all his life, until he got out in the real world. He had no idea how to even boil an egg. I couldn’t say I was any great cook. I loved my Chinese takeout, but that level of helplessness drove me insane.
“Unbelievable.” Hare sighed, turning back to the counter piled with what little ingredients he could find. Standing on a stool, he was in his element, flipping, mixing, chopping, and whipping the items together with flare, like those chefs do on the cooking shows I watched. I kept shaking my head in utter amazement. Pen was right; Hare was a true chef.
Penguin continued to hum while Dum pounded the utensils louder. Each note he hit on the metal surface rattled my teeth.
“PEN!” Hare belted. “I can’t cook with such a racket. Stop, before I shove the eggnog up your ass and boil you.”
“Boil me?” Pen’s dark eyes widened, voice trembling. “Like figgy pudding?”
“Exactly like that.” Hare snarled, shoving another tray of muffins in the oven.
“Pen, come sit by me.” I patted the chair between Dum and me. Pen waddled to me, his head down, sniffling.
“I don’t want to be figgy pudding,” he muttered as I helped him up on the chair.
“Hare is not turning you into figgy pudding.”
A derisive snort came from Hare.
“Here, play with these.” I handed Pen two spoons, his expression widening with joy, taking the silver shiny objects, forgetting all about being upset.
“Ah-ha!” Scrooge yelled, causing me to twist around to him. He pulled something from a cupboard, his eyebrows wagging, a bottle full of brown liquid in his hands.
“Is that…?” My mouth started to water.
“Oh. Hell. No!” Nick pointed at him. “Put that back. It’s not for you.”
“Come on, Nick, when was the last time you had guests?” Scrooge winked, not listening to the grumpy man.
“Not since you… and it’s way too soon.” Nick slumped in his chair, crossing the ankle of his other knee, his beard thankfully still covering the parts I really didn’t want to see.
“Plus, I think I gifted this to you.” Scrooge clutched some cups with his fingers, bringing them over to the table. “It’s part of the rules that I get to enjoy it with you.”
“There are no such rules.” Nick pointed again at the cabinet. “Now put it back. It’s mine! I don’t like you enough to share my mead.”
“Well, good thing it’s for Dee then.” He popped the cork. “You wouldn’t deprive her of something that will help?”
Nick’s nose crinkled, muttering under his breath, but he didn’t stop Scrooge from pouring a little into a cup.
“You’re taking it to her?” I nodded at the liquor as he strolled past me. “I’ll come with you. I want to check on her too.”
A nerve twitched in Scrooge’s jaw, but he stayed quiet as we walked down the hall. Dim lights hung on the walls, brightening the hallway. There were no longer any windows as we ventured into the earth. I saw one bathroom and two bedrooms, one where Dee was residing. The single bed swamped her tiny frame, her breathing shallow but even.
“She looks so young. Fragile.” I stepped to one side of her, brushing her braids away from her face. “So little.”
“Looks can be deceiving. She is older than you can imagine and also one of the strongest people I know.” He stared down at her in admiration. “She has been through so much, and still she is the one who holds on to hope. Believes in Nick far more than he deserves.” Scrooge flicked his head back out the room. “Though, he cares for her more than he will admit.”
“Who was she to him?”
“His head elf.” Scrooge gently sat on the edge of the bed. “Dum was her second. Dee ran everything, kept Santaland working seamlessly. They were very close. Best friends. Mrs. Claus later had to suggest something tawdry was going on because Nick spent more time with Dee. But it was never that way. They were family and truly best friends. The perfect team. All Mrs. Claus saw was the person her husband spent more time with than herself, giving her even more reason to go after Dee. Torture her.” A lump expanded in the back of my throat.
“The Queen killed so many of the elves, but she purposely kept Dee and Dum alive. The cruelty she showed was unbearable, but never once did Dee break. Her belief in Nick, in the goodness of people…” He swallowed. “They were the last straw. Mrs. Claus stepped past the darkness with Dee and Dum; true evil came from her hatred. What she was letting Blitzen do… I could no longer…” His voice curdled, stopping him from continuing.
I didn’t push him. Knowing what Dee had told me, I could fill in all the blanks.
Scrooge cleared his throat, inching closer to Dee, whispering quietly to her to drink.
“Will it help her?”
“Yes. Not only does
it have magical properties, which is why it’s banned, but it will give her the liquids and calories she needs to heal. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best we can do for her.”
My lids fluttered at the thought of losing her. When did these people become so unbelievably important to me? I knew leaving was still my end goal, but it didn’t shine as bright as it once had.
He drizzled a little bit down her throat so she wouldn’t choke. “Now she needs to rest and let her body recover.” Scrooge stood up, tucking the blankets around her tighter. He leaned over, kissing her forehead. “We need you, Dee. Don’t give up.”
I knew if Dee was awake, she would have blushed from the tips of her toes to her roots, flummoxed by Scrooge’s kiss and tenderness.
Hell, I was, and he hadn’t even kissed me.
He left the rest of the cup by her bedside, leaving a lamp on in the corner so she wouldn’t wake up scared and confused.
“You can tell you’ve had a kid,” I said before I could stop myself, mortification slapping a hand over my mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
He didn’t respond, walking out of the room.
“Scrooge, I’m sorry.” I followed.
He turned, closing the door softly behind me, his penetrating gaze fastening me back into it.
“Don’t worry yourself, Ms. Liddell.”
“We’re back to that.”
“Back to what?” His physique was so close his pants scraped against my thighs; his hand skirted my hip as he dropped it away from the door handle.
“Ms. Liddell.” I pushed the words over my tongue. “You do that when you are keeping me at arm’s length.”
“I was born in a time of propriety and social rules. It is hard to drop them.”
“That’s not it. You’ve called me Alice. Mostly when we’re about to die. Or when…” I gulped.
“Or when what?” He leaned closer, but not an ounce of emotion showed on his face, his tall built frame dwarfing mine against the door.
My impulsive nature and mouth working faster than I could think, I looked up into his eyes. “When you want to fuck me.” Shit. Shit. Did I say that out loud? Jesus, Alice. Talk about a lack of decorum.
He sucked in air sharply through his nose, his eyebrows rising with surprise; a quick snort puffed out of his nose. But he didn’t respond, forcing my nerves to bounce up into my throat.
“Sorry.” I squeezed my lids together. “Sometimes my mouth acts before I can stop it.” I reopened my eyes, and I could have sworn he had moved in even closer.
“Why are you apologizing?” His voice was husky and low.
“Because I have no appropriateness. My mother gets on me all the time for it. I never think before I speak. It’s made for some awkward encounters.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for who you are.” He placed a hand on the door, above my head, his breath tickling down my neck.
“Still, most find me rude.” My chest heaved with his nearness.
“But not wrong,” he rumbled, his entire frame pressing into mine, his bare torso rubbing against my almost entirely exposed body. My breath hitched, my muscles shaking with desire. What was it about him that made me feel like a drug addict? The way he made my body respond by just being near was unlike anything I had experienced before.
I had a lot of good sex over the years especially when I moved to New York, brag-worthy sex. But he seemed to multiply that by a thousand… with only a touch. The need for him aching my bones.
“What are you saying?” I breathed, a coyness to my question.
“I don’t think you need me to answer that.” His free hand clutched my hip, pushing it back into the door, igniting me on fire. His feet stepped between my thighs.
“No.” I gulped. “But I think you need to show me.”
He grinned, his intensity almost robbing me of all air. “Gladly, Alice.”
His fingers glided up the inside of my thigh, brushing up and over my underwear, my stomach flinching as shivers exploded over my skin. His hand slipped up my torso to my breast, every nerve in my body vibrating with desperate desire, creating an embarrassing moan to roll out my mouth.
Scrooge inhaled, his eyes flashing. Feral. Primal.
“Food’s ready!” Hare yelled down the hall, slicing through me like a dagger. I shut my lids with annoyance, and I heard Scrooge swear under his breath.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
“Their timing is impeccable.”
“We could ignore them?” I reached out for him again, my body humming from his touch.
“Ms. Alice? Mr. Scrooge?” Penguin waddled down the hall toward us, flailing his fins around with excitement.
“So much for ignoring them,” Scrooge muttered, stepping back from me.
“Food. Lovely delicious food that Hare prepared. Mr. Scrooge, you must come.”
“I was planning on it.” Scrooge’s gaze slid to mine. “Thanks, Pen,” he added dryly.
“Oh, you are welcome. Come! Come! Hare makes such delicious food.” Pen waved us forward, completely oblivious to the situation he walked in on. “You must eat it while it’s still warm.”
“Again, it had been my plan.” Scrooge stared at me as he spoke. From my cheeks to my thighs, I flushed with his implication.
“Go.” He flicked his chin for me to follow Pen, who waited for us to join him.
“What about you?”
“I need a moment.” He put his hands on his hips, exhaling deeply.
“Ah.” I tried to hide my grin, glancing down at his trousers, knowing it was because of me. But as I turned, leading Pen back to the kitchen area, the jabs from Hare about how long it had been since Scrooge had been with someone, came back to me, forming a slippery slide of insecurity. Was his wife the last person he’d been with? Was that all I was, a female body he could end his drought with? I had been that girl before. As attracted as I was to Scrooge, which was painfully so, I still wouldn’t allow myself to be her again. All it did was make me feel hollow and sad.
But the thought of walking away from him, never touching him again, emptied my soul into a chasm. Either way, I seemed to be the one to lose here.
Chapter 25
“I’m so full.” I leaned back in the chair, rubbing my belly with a groan.
“You have barely eaten.” Hare motioned to my plate, stuffing another muffin in his mouth. “You’re the one who eats like a rabbit.”
It had been so long since I ate, my stomach quickly filled. Hare’s food was delicious but rich and heavy. My stomach was gurgling with its fill of eggnog French toast, cranberry-orange muffins, and the sweet liquor Nick called mead.
The guys hadn’t slowed a bit, still scarfing down as if their stomachs had no bottom and their hunger couldn’t be quenched. Nick was the worst. I didn’t think he even bothered chewing as he groaned and moaned like he hadn’t eaten real food in a long time. There was a good chance he hadn’t. Nothing in his fridge resembled a meal, only ingredients.
Pen stood on the chair next to me, humming a Christmas tune, dancing and bobbing around as he ate. Life was so good he couldn’t stop his happiness from wiggling him about. Dum was next to him. He would take a bite and randomly bellow, “Yummy in my tummy,” then run around the table like he had to discharge the extra energy he had.
Scrooge, Hare, and Nick ate like it was their only mission, grabbing the next item before they even finished the first. For a while all I could do was sit and watch them all in awe.
Now that my stomach was full, my filthy clothes crawled against me. The grime coating me was so itchy my skin wanted to wiggle off my frame.
“Is there a shower or bath I can use?” I asked Nick.
He grunted, ramming a slice of French toast in his mouth, his head flicking back to the hallway, his attention not leaving the heap of food on his plate.
“First door on the right.” Scrooge looked up through his lashes, reaching for another muffin.
“Thank you.” I left t
he table on a mission of my own. The need to be clean almost made me want to cry.
The bathroom was simple with a rustic vibe to it. Wood paneling with a bronze sink that had no mirror above, walk-in stone shower, a bathtub near the window, toilet, and shelves full of fluffy towels, and shockingly, some toiletries. It reminded me of stuff you’d get at a lower budget hotel on Earth: disposal razors, toothbrush, paste, generic shampoo and conditioner, and tiny bars of soap. Products I would have probably stuck my nose up at, but now made tears flood behind my eyes.
Stripping out of Scrooge’s threaded dress shirt and my underwear and bra, I walked under the cascading showerhead, ready to sigh with contentment.
“Shit! Fuck!” I let out a yelp, feeling snow was pouring out of the taps, stabbing my skin. “Holy mistletoe!” Right. No, hot water. Forgot about that. Only in Winterland could the snow not be cold, but the water coming from it be ice. “Can’t anything make sense here?”
I quickly washed the layer of dirt off my body and out of my hair before my trembling bones couldn’t take anymore. I wrapped myself up in a huge towel, the warmth of it feeling utterly amazing.
I didn’t have any clothes to change into, and there was no way I was getting back in my dirty stuff. I tucked the towel firmer around my chest, fingering through the knots in my long hair. Brushing the film off my teeth, I found it extremely odd there were no mirrors in here. Was it intentional?
A soft knock tapped at the door. “Ms. Liddell?”
Hearing his voice, my stomach coiled with nerves. Was he hoping to come in? Finish what had been stopped earlier? My strong stance was already tottering with the idea of him bursting through, tossing me up on the counter, and warming me up. I cracked the door, not trusting myself, peeking out.
He stood there, shirtless and dirty with a trace of a bad-boy grin hooking the side of his mouth, material piled in his hands.
“There’s not a lot of choice. These are all I could find in the closet.” He held it out to me. “Nick isn’t a fan of clothes, as you probably noticed.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I did. My therapist will be earning her keep when I get home.”
DESCENDING INTO MADNESS Page 18
