The Monster (Boston Belles 3)

Entirely unwilling to discuss the subject publicly, I shoved lukewarm yams into my mouth.

“What do you care? I saved you from a night of boredom at the Fitzpatricks’.”

“First of all, it is my family you are talking about,” Hunter stated the fucking obvious, as per usual. “Second, I was looking forward to seeing Cillian and Ash.”

“You’re welcome to join them, Hunter. No one is forcing you to be here,” Troy said matter-of-factly, though I knew he was still pissed with me for screwing up the entire Gerald operation.

I’d given Nix a few days to come to terms with what had happened between her father and me, letting her cool down. She was upset. That was a given. But she would get over it.

I imagined her overcome with joy as I told her I’d come to terms with the idea of being with her.

Tonight, I had every intention of putting an end to this nonsense and claim her.

As the evening unfolded, and Hunter hit the eggnog like it was vintage whiskey while Sailor watched over her kids to ensure none of them caught on fire, and Troy and Sparrow looked ready to undress each other, I took my cue and said my goodbyes. Rather than drive back to my apartment, I headed straight to Avebury Court Manor.

I wasn’t so dumb as to think Gerald and Jane Fitzpatrick would share their daughter’s enthusiasm at seeing me on their doorstep. That suited me just fine. I was more than capable of climbing into windows, which according to all the movies and shows I had definitely not watched with Sailor and Sparrow, it was deemed hopelessly romantic.

Nix was a romantic.

I was in the best shape of my life.

It was a no-fucking-brainer.

Parking in front of the mansion, I noticed the lights were already out. The Fitzpatricks wrapped up Christmas early. I rounded their house, detecting Nix’s window. The light was turned off there, too.

Breaking into her room was like taking candy from a baby. Avebury Court Manor was built low and spread out rather than tall and narrow. And there were columns fucking everywhere. The snow was not ideal. Then again, I’d managed climbing my way into places in worse conditions.

I threw a rope over the bannister between her window and one of the columns, and when it fell back through the other side, I tied a tight knot, tugging at it to ensure it was firm before ascending up the column while holding onto the rope, rock-climbing style.

When I reached her window, I knocked on it a few times, peering in through the double-glazed glass. She was sound asleep, unmoving in her bed, her midnight hair fanned across her shoulders and face. A dark angel.

I rapped the window again, watching as she stirred awake, her eyelashes fluttering before swinging her long, lean legs over the bed and walking over toward her door.

For the third time, I banged on the window, exasperated. Pretty sure Romeo didn’t have to deal with a woman who had the hearing of a fucking air fryer.

She jumped in surprise, turning around, her eyes meeting mine from across the room. When the sight of me registered, she ran toward the window.

Atta girl.

Nix was coming back to the arms of her favorite monster.

She unlatched the window open, and in one swift movement put her hands on my shoulders and pushed me with all her power, sending me flying back down. Quick on my feet, I grabbed onto the gutter, hanging onto it for dear fucking life, my legs swinging in the air.

“Merry Christmas to you, too. I see you decided to gift me a crazy bitch this year. I’ll take it.”

“You expected a gift?” she spat out from somewhere above my head, sounding … well, not half as glad as I thought she’d be to see me. “What on earth are you doing here, Brennan?”

Luckily, I put a lot of effort into ensuring my upper body was strong and did suspension exercises and pull-ups with Mitchell four times a week, so I knew that as long as the gutter wasn’t going to split in two, I could hang on it for a while.

Of course, I might lose my fingers in the process because of fucking frostbite.

“Well, I thought it would be a good time to talk now, after you’ve processed everything that’s happened.”

I was fucking obsessed with her. It made no sense at all. You were not supposed to crave what was offered to you in abundance.

“You mean you backstabbing my family and me, making my life a living hell, causing the very near wreckage of my parents’ marriage, and bringing destruction upon us that would take decades to emotionally reconstruct?”

When she put it that way …

“Grow the fuck up, Nix. I played with your daddy a little. It had nothing to do with you.”