“Ahhh! You sagging-balled cream puff!” I reached out trying to gain ground against Scrooge’s hold. “You made our lives hell. Watched me scrub your clothes by hand. Never once thanked Hare for the delicious meals he made you.”
“If I had let you down here, you would have eaten and drunk everything. Would have wanted to play with my things.” Nick stood, his robe wide open, his beard—full of crumbles—dangled down his front.
“Your things.” I blinked, still shocked to see “Santa Claus” be so unbelievably selfish. No matter if his soul was splintered or not. Nick was a douchebag. And I wanted to kill him. “You bastard!”
“Alice,” Scrooge hissed in my ear. “Stop. Your naked ass rubbing against me is not helping at all. We’re gonna have a very white Christmas soon.”
His innuendo, purposefully or not, deflated the anger a bit. Falling back into him, a crazed laugh bubbled up, my hands rubbing my face.
“Can you turn that shit off?” Scrooge’s hands pulled more of my hair in front of me, covering my breasts from view, his erection pushing into my back. “And stop looking at her like that.”
My head darted up to see Nick’s gaze run down me, then to Scrooge.
“Glad you guys finally decided to loosen up.” He picked up a remote, hitting a button, silence lowering my shoulders with relief. “Free yourself of labels and restrictions.” He tossed it back on the table. “Looks as if you two were having some fun finally.” His gaze went over us again, his tone still gruff. “I have some mistletoe we could smoke, let things go where they may.”
“Gross.” I scowled, squinting back toward the laundry area. “Are there clothes back there?”
“Who the fuck knows? What do I need them for?”
“Don’t move.” Scrooge pointed at Nick, steering us back for the bathroom.
“You’re in my place. I’m not going anywhere,” Nick huffed, folding his arms.
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered over and over as Scrooge and I went into the bathroom, hoping to find at least a towel. “This whole time.”
The huge bathroom stopped me in my tracks. Beautiful natural stone, wood, and glass made it look like it should be in one of those million-dollar log cabins you see on TV.
“Holy shit.” My mouth parted seeing the stacks of fluffy towels and products: lotion, shampoo, conditioner, and soaps. None of the cheap crap in the cabin, but the really expensive shit.
Over the counter hung an oval mirror.
A door for him to travel through any time he wanted.
“Son of a bitch.” Scrooge shook his head at the mirror, understanding what it meant as well. He grabbed a towel for me as he wrapped one around himself. “He even has a towel warmer in here.”
Grumbling, I went farther, loving the softness of the cloth wrapped around my body, spotting a door at the far end. Opening it, I flicked a switch on the wall, a hiss of swear words sprung from my lips like Christmas lights.
A bedroom with a walk-in closet. It wasn’t massive, but enough for a huge sleigh framed king size bed, nightstands, a bench at the end of a bed, and a large chair in the corner. A closed door on the wall shared with the main room, let me know this had to be where that third door had led.
Scrooge went forward, entering the walk-in closet, a bitter laugh escaping him when he flicked on the light.
“What?” I trailed after him, stepping in.
The closet was as big as the guest bedroom in the cabin upstairs, chock full of Santa Claus suits. Red with white trim, coats, pants, hats, black polished boots, belts with shiny buckles. It was here waiting for the man to return. Only a small section had more comfortable clothes. Dozens of extra-large-sized sweats with hoodies and white sneakers for Santa’s “downtime.”
“Perfect.” Scrooge strode over, grabbing a pair of gray sweats. “Probably be huge on you, but better than nothing.” He chucked a pair at me, already tugging on his.
Scrooge was taller than Nick but firm in all the places Nick wasn’t. The pants hung on his hips, threatening to fall down, his V-line on full display.
I licked my lips, ambling closer, my fingers brushing his hipbone, causing a deep growl from him.
“You better stop right there,” he warned. “Because I won’t.”
“That’s not encouraging me to stop.”
“Feel the same if Nick came in and joined?”
“Ugh.” I dropped away with a grimace. “You might have destroyed sex for me for good.”
“I hope not, Ms. Liddell.” He leaned into my ear, his breath grazing my neck. “There are so many more naughty things I want to do with you.”
“Tease.” I tugged on the pair of sweats, yanking the drawstring until the waistband looked like ruffles, rolling it over and tightening it again.
“Tease? Funny, I think it was you coming on my tongue, not me.”
His words were instant fire racing through my veins. Biting down on my lip, trying to ignore the desire pumping through me. I pulled on the hoodie, which almost went to my knees.
“Great. Now I look like a Stay Puft marshmallow.” I flopped my arms to my side. I loved being comfy, but in Nick’s stuff I felt I was drowning in fabric, actually making it harder to move.
“Adorable.” Scrooge snickered, wrenching on his own hoodie. He moved to me, his hands sliding up the sweatshirt, his palms skimming my waist as he settled in closer to me, his legs widening to be more at my level. “Though I loved those nonexistent shorts and tight tank, this bulky, oversized monstrosity makes me want to fuck you right up against the Santa suits.” He breathed against my lips, grazing them enough to send tingles over my skin.
“This really is going to be a problem,” I uttered, yearning puffing my chest.
“Yeah.” He nipped softly at my bottom lip. “It really is.”
“What the fuck is taking you two so long? Don’t be screwing in my bed.” Nick’s voice called from the bedroom door. “Yeah, I could hear you all the way down here earlier. And this place is soundproofed.”
“Asshole.”
“You are the one who stopped me from killing him.” I stepped back, Scrooge’s hands still on my waist.
“Yeah, and already regretting that choice.”
Chapter 32
We moved back into the main area, clustering around the table, Nick scowling at us from his seat.
“So… you found my hideout.” He reclined, crossing his ankle over his knee. Thankfully the table and his beard covered him.
Santa would never be the same in my eyes again.
“What is this place exactly?” I motioned around, resting back against the counter. It reminded me of those bunkers people built for the end of the world.
“I have a place to hide if Blitzen and the soldiers ever found me. Comfortable to hole up in until they moved on. Up there it would look like a vacant cabin that I had already abandoned.”
“Doesn’t the cabin move around?” I looked at him and Scrooge, remembering him telling me something like that.
“Yeah.” His lip curled. “Used to. But it takes a lot of magic. I don’t seem to have much of it lately.”
“Because the magic comes from Santa.” Scrooge stood near me by the table, his arms folded. “Not from a selfish asshole such as you.”
“Bugger off.” Nick sneered, shifting his naked butt over the seat.
“Nick.” Palms on the table, Scrooge loomed over him. “It’s no coincidence since we’ve returned, you’ve been hiding. You know what we brought back.”
Nick moved in his seat again, not looking at Scrooge.
“It’s time. We need Santa back. We need people to have something to believe in again… to fight for.”
“Do it without me,” Nick huffed, motioning to Scrooge. “They can believe in you. You seem to have taken on the role. Why don’t you become their hero? From what I heard, she’d fully agree with me.” He popped his chin in my direction.
“Because I’m not Santa Claus,” Scrooge growled. “You are the infamous icon
. The symbol people need.”
“Well, it’s about time they start learning to live with disappointment. And live without me. I mean, they should damn well grow up. Stop believing in a man who knows intimate things about your children, breaks into your home, eats your food, and leaves you a crappy toy in recompense.”
“Shit. You really are the dark side of him.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“Sweetheart, the things I’ve seen would turn anyone’s blood cold.” Nick’s voice was full of condescension, wrapping rage around my spine. If Jessica had gotten any of this side, I could see why she might have flipped. “Now why don’t you go back to earth and play with your Barbies. Stay out of our business here.”
A roar shook through the room, bouncing off the walls and ceiling. I jumped as Scrooge grabbed Nick’s throat, knocking his chair over and slamming him back against the cabinets.
“Don’t ever talk to her that way again, you spineless piece of shit,” Scrooge snarled, his muscles rolling and tight as the beast inside tore through. Rage pinwheeled off him, sparking the air. “You are going to come upstairs with us and face yourself. Find a heart through that deplorable rubbish you call a soul. Be the man they still believe you to be.”
“That’s their problem, not mine.” Nick’s spat through Scrooge’s hold. “I didn’t ask for them to worship me. They did it on their own.”
Wrath boomed through the room as Scrooge slammed Nick’s head back against the cupboard, violent tension strung like rope, weaving around us.
“Can you stop being a greedy, self-centered, narcissistic asshole for one moment? Do something for others for a change.”
“For a change!” Nick sputter out a dry laugh. “That’s all I’ve ever done. I give, give, give… and they just want more. I’m not the selfish, avaricious one, Earth is a cesspool of greed. I’m done.” Nick leaned into his face, spit coming through his teeth. “I gave enough.”
“You think you gave enough?” Scrooge snapped back, his expression streaked with fire and rage. “Don’t act as if you were the only one who lost everything they loved and held dear.” He rammed Nick harder into the sideboard, grief slicing over Scrooge’s brow. “So many have lost. Friends. Family. Homes. Freedom. But they are still out there ready to fight for you, in your name, what you represent. They lost everything, were tortured, and are in hiding, but still they believe. Have hope.” Scrooge’s face was only an inch from Nick’s. “While you hide and wallow in your greasy bitterness, they are trying to rise against her.” Scrooge’s throat bobbed, something in his demeanor shifting, his voice going low. “Don’t let the memory of those we lost be in vain.”
Nick’s throat bobbed, his head snapping to the side. He stayed quiet for several beats before he muttered. “I can’t. I can’t go through it all again. I won’t.”
“You will.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t want to be him. To let him back in and feel all that pain again. There was a reason my soul split off. I like feeling nothing. I can live this way. And I want to be the darker version of me.” Nick’s conviction rolled his jaw as he stared back at Scrooge.
“Your darker side doesn’t even come close to my good side.” Detached, Scrooge’s words sounded like a threat. “You want to see dark? I can show you. Believe me, you will be screaming in terror to get out.”
Nick stared at Scrooge, his Adam’s apple moved up and down.
“Now. We are going to go back to the cabin where you will open the box and become the man who used to believe in this place. A leader.” Every word sounded between an order and talking to a toddler. “Because a war is coming. Jessica is not going to quit until you’re dead. Time to get your head out of the snow and face your wife. Take back what was yours once.”
Scrooge nudged him one more time into the cabinets, reinforcing what he said was not a choice, before stepping back, his regard shifting over to me. The heat and intensity of his gaze buzzed my skin like caffeine. Damn, he was so effin’ hot.
“Ready?” He lifted an eyebrow at me, his eyes devouring me.
“Ye-yeah.” I tugged on the hoodie, the room feeling like a sauna under his scrutiny.
Scrooge whirled around, grabbing Nick, dragging him along to the stairs. I was about to follow when my attention landed on something else. Their feet clanged on the metal steps as I walked past them, heading for my destination.
“Hold on!”
“What are you doing?” Scrooge leaned over, peering down at me.
I went to the back wall, noticing boxes of Milky Ways, Butterfingers, and Hershey Kisses stacked on the other end of the shelf. I’d be back for those later. I had priorities. My fingers wrapped around the necks of the containers, cradling them into my chest.
“Provisions.” I winked up at him, prancing up the steps with four bottles of mead.
“Damn.” He shook his head. “I’m so lovin’ you right now.”
“Show me your gratitude later.” I caught up with them at the landing.
Scrooge looked over his shoulder at me, his eyes skating up my body like fingers. “Count on it.”
“No, not my mead,” Nick whined, stomping his foot like a petulant child.
“Be thankful I can only carry four bottles right now,” I replied, wiggling my eyebrows impishly. “And I’m coming back for that box of Milky Ways later. Wait until Hare learns about this place.”
Nick moaned, his head dropping forward.
“Just consider this compensation for babysitting you. I think I earned this at least.” I indicated a container full of yummy sweetness.
“You knocked me out with a bottle one night,” Nick cried out. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”
“You what?” A laugh burst from Scrooge. “Is that what you and Hare were talking about the other night?”
“She hit me!” Nick exclaimed. “What kind of person hits Santa?”
“Anyone who knows you,” Scrooge quipped.
“No one wants to hit Santa.” Nick frowned.
“Actually, I’ve been dreaming about doing it for years. I’m kind of jealous.”
“Get in line with Hare,” I replied.
Nick huffed, wagging his finger at me. “You will never be off the naughty list, missy. Ever.”
“I’ll live with the shame.” I bumped his shoulder and stepped into the hall, the lights flickering on.
“Welcome to the permanent naughty list,” Scrooge muttered against the back of my neck. “We have a lot more fun here.”
“As long as it’s your lap I get to sit on, asking to fill my stocking.”
An animalistic noise rumbled from behind, making me smile.
Oh yeah, we were going to be a problem.
“Switch. Switch.” Dum’s voice, followed by Dee’s laugh, met us before we even opened the door. “Make room.”
“For the love of holly trimmings,” Hare boomed as we opened the door, stepping into the scene.
“You know what?” Nick grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. “If getting my soul back means being able to tolerate this shit, I’m all in. Just put me out of my misery.”
“Oh. My.” I pinched my lips together, trying not to laugh.
As if I stepped back to when I first met them, Dee and Dum darted around the table, jumping in and out of chairs, giggling and knocking into each other. Penguin danced up and down on the table, kicking at anything in his path, singing “Have Yourself a Merry un-Christmas.” Hare was banging his head on the table like he was hoping to knock himself out. Rudolph was nowhere in sight.
“Ms. Alice!” Penguin tossed up his flippers, chirping with excitement. “We’re having an un-Christmas party.”
“Isn’t that pretty much every day?” Scrooge said.
“But today is a very merry un-Christmas,” Penguin twittered. “Did you bring a present this time, Ms. Alice?”
Grinning, I moved to the table, setting the bottles down right in front of Hare. “I did.”
Hare’s head jerked up, his gaze trav
eling up the bottle.
“Please don’t tell me I’m dreaming. Or don’t wake me.” His lids shut and opened wider. “Am I dead? Those little psycho-toe-furky dinners finally gave me a stroke.” He reached out and touched the jug like it would disappear, whispering softly. “I’m in a much better place. Hello, sweet thing…”
“Just wait until I show you the gourmet kitchen he’s been hiding.”
“Hiding?”
I popped off the top, handing the bottle to Hare. “You’re gonna need to down this before you learn the rest.”
Hare didn’t have to be told twice; he slugged down gulps of the mead.
“Get over there.” Scrooge shoved Nick forward to the leather chair, not letting go of him. “Sit.”
Nick grumbled and sneered but did what he was told.
“Oh. Looks like you found his hideout.” Rudolph stepped into the room, pointing at the mead.
My spine went rigid as I stared at the deer-man.
“You. Knew?” My voice was low, my nails digging into my palms.
“Yeah.” Rudy nodded, snorting through his nose. “Who do you think keeps him in supplies? You think he would?”
“This whole time, you knew where he was. What was down there?” It wasn’t a question but an accusation, my voice rising. “And you didn’t tell us?”
“I promised Santa I would keep it secret so no one could give away his location. Tortured or threatened, they had no true whereabouts of him.”
“See?” Nick pointed at Rudy. “That’s what loyalty looks like. A true friend of Santa’s.”
“Oh, shut up.” Scrooge and I shouted at the same time.
“So that little charade earlier?” I wrapped my arms at my chest.
“I technically lead you to him.” Rudy shrugged. “He was right there. Under your nose. And you found him.”
Scrooge scoffed, shaking his head, and returned his attention to Nick, setting the perfectly wrapped gift on his lap. Nick leaned way back in the chair, trying to be the farthest he could away from it.
Ascending From Madness Page 24