CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jolt
The crackling fireplace casts a warm glow across the living room of Kade’s old house, which is where all of the guests coming to Montana stay.
Its flames dance in rhythm with the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.
I lean back on the couch, my arm draped casually around Aggie's shoulders as she nestles against me.
Her presence is a soothing balm, easing the tension that's been building in my muscles all day.
"Ye know, Jack, this is nice. Just us, away from all the chaos."
I nod, running my fingers through her blonde hair.
It's so different from her natural red, but I love how it represents her rebellion, her strength.
"Yeah, it is. Though I gotta admit, I'm surprised you're not bouncing off the walls with excitement. It's Christmas Eve, after all."
Aggie shifts slightly, and I catch a glimpse of those striking emerald eyes.
There's something there, a flicker of... what?
Sadness?
Anxiety?
It's gone before I can place it.
"Ah, well," she says, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "I'm just enjoyin' the peace while it lasts. Ye know how wild it gets with my family."
I chuckle, but inside, my mind is racing.
Something's off with her, has been for a while now.
Is it the holidays?
Being back in Montana?
Or is it from what she went through back in Vegas?
I want to ask, to pry open whatever's troubling her, but I hold back.
Aggie's tough as nails, a firecracker who can handle herself.
If she wants to talk, she will.
Instead, I pull her closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head.
"Well, I'm glad I get you all to myself for now. Though I gotta say, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow. Your family's... intense."
Aggie laughs, a genuine sound that eases some of my worry. "Aye, that they are. But they'll love ye, Jack. Just be yerself. Hell, Conrad will adore you. He’s vastly outnumbered."
Conrad, her little brother.
I think Aggie said he’s about six now.
"You mean the charming, devastatingly handsome biker?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her, earning me a playful swat on the chest.
"I mean the sweet, caring man I fell in love with," she says softly, her fingers tracing the tribal tattoos on my arm.
Her words warm me more than the fire ever could.
I cup her face gently, marveling at how this fierce, independent woman has captured my heart so completely. "I love you too, Aggie. More than I ever thought possible. I love you enough to tell something’s bothering you."
Aggie's gaze meets mine, and I see a flicker of something. "Aye, just... rememberin', I suppose."
I wait, giving her space to continue if she wants.
After a moment, she does.
"Christmas Eve is always a weird day for me. Tomorrow is one of the days I remember my biological father beating my mother. I think I remember because of the bloody holiday, and it's tainted Christmas for me ever since."
My gut clenches at her words. I knew Aggie had a rough past, but hearing her say it so plainly.
"Jesus, Aggie," I breathe, pulling her closer. "I'm so sorry."
She shakes her head, blonde hair brushing against my chest. "Don't be. It's in the past."
But I can feel the tension in her body, hear the slight tremor in her voice.
This isn't just in the past for her.
It's still raw, still haunting her.
I run my fingers through her hair, wishing I could erase those memories for her. "You don't have to pretend it doesn't affect you, Ghost. Not with me."
Aggie's emerald eyes meet mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths.
"I know," she whispers. "It's just... I've spent so long trying to be strong, to not let it define me."
"Being strong doesn't mean you can't hurt," I tell her softly. "And talking about it doesn't make you weak."
She's quiet for a moment, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my chest.
When she speaks again, her voice is low, tinged with a pain that makes my heart ache.
"I can still hear her screams sometimes. Still see the blood on her face. He was like a monster, Jack. And I was too small, too weak to do anything."
I tighten my arms around her, wishing I could shield her from those memories. "You were a child, Aggie. It wasn't your job to protect her."
"I know that now," she says, her Scottish lilt more pronounced with emotion. "But back then... it felt like I'd failed her somehow."
I press a kiss to her forehead, struggling to find the right words.
How do you comfort someone who's been through something so horrific?
"You survived," I finally say. "You and your mom both. That's not failing. That's strength."
Aggie nods against my chest, her voice slightly muffled. "Aye, we did. Mum was a warrior through it all. She packed us up one night, just the clothes on our backs, and we fled here to Montana."
I listen intently as she continues, her words painting a vivid picture of their escape and new beginning.
"We stayed with my grandparents at first. Mum was so broken, but she was determined to give us a better life. That's when she met Grim."
A small smile tugs at her lips, softening the hard edges of her memories. "He was like no one she'd ever known. Rough around the edges, sure, but with a heart of gold. He treated her like she hung the moon and stars."
I can't help but grin, thinking of the gruff biker who's become such an important part of Aggie's life. "Sounds like quite the love story."
"It was," Aggie agrees, her eyes brightening. "Still is, really. They fell hard and fast, and the rest, as they say, is history."
I brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You're lucky to have had a step-father like Grim," I say softly.
Aggie sits up suddenly. "He might formally be called my step-father," she says, her Scottish lilt more pronounced, "but Grim is my da, through and through. He's always been there for me, Davina, Sorcha, and then Mum and him had Conrad."
The intensity of her words catches me off guard, but I understand.
Family isn't always about blood.
Sometimes it's about who shows up, who stays, who loves you unconditionally.
And it's clear that Grim has done all of that and more for Aggie and her siblings.
A sharp knock at the door breaks the moment.
I squeeze Aggie's hand before standing up, my muscles screaming slightly after sitting for so long.
As I make my way to the door, I can't help but wonder who'd be dropping by on Christmas Eve.
I swing the door open, and for a second, I'm hit with a strong sense of déjà vu.
The girl standing there could be Aggie's twin, except for the different eye and hair color.
It takes me a moment to place her—Davina, Aggie's sister.
I've met so many people since arriving in Montana that faces are starting to blur.
"Davina, come on in," I say, stepping aside to let her enter.
She cocks an eyebrow at me, her lips curving into a smirk. "Geeze, took ye long enough," she sasses, brushing past me.
I can't help but chuckle internally.
That attitude is definitely genetic.
As Davina saunters into the living room, I'm struck again by how much she and Aggie resemble each other.
Same facial structure, same almond shaped eyes.
The main difference is Davina's dark hair, a stark contrast to Aggie's bottle blonde.
Davina plops down on the couch next to Aggie, making herself right at home. "So, what we drinkin'?" she asks, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Aggie shoots her sister a look that could curdle milk. "We're not drinkin' anything," she says firmly. "I'm not about to get in a load of shite for you."
Davina's laugh is sharp and quick. "Aw, come on. You've gone soft, sis."
I can't let that slide. "Nothing about your sister is soft," I interject, my voice low and serious. "She's just smarter than she was when she left."
Davina's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flashing across them.
She leans forward, her voice dripping with venom. "If she was that much smarter, she wouldn't have gotten roughed up."
The words hit like a physical blow.
I feel the air leave the room, tension crackling like electricity.
My muscles tense, ready to intervene, but Aggie moves faster than I can react.
Crack!
The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.
Aggie's hand connects with Davina's cheek, leaving an angry red mark.
I've never seen Aggie move so quickly, her entire body radiating fury.
"Shut yer fuckin' face, you imbecile," Aggie snarls, her accent thickening with rage. "Yer protected here and don't know what it's like out in the real world. I was lucky to get away, lucky enough to not wait on anyone to come and save me, or to even hope they would."
Her eyes, usually warm emerald pools, have turned to hard, glittering stones.
She leans in close to Davina, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "If I ever hear you say some dumb shite like that again, I will hold your head below water until I almost kill ye."
My heart pounds in my chest.
This is a side of Aggie I've never seen before—raw, unfiltered rage born from deep trauma.
It's terrifying and heartbreaking all at once.
I want to reach out, to comfort her, but I know this is a moment she needs to own.
Davina's eyes widen for a split second, a flicker of fear crossing her face.
Then, to my utter shock, she bursts into laughter.
Her whole body shakes with it, the sound filling the room.
"God, you forgot how we joked around, didn't ye?" Davina gasps between fits of giggles, rubbing her reddened cheek.
Aggie freezes, her anger evaporating like mist in the sun.
She shakes her head, covering her face with both hands.
For a heart-stopping moment, I think she might be crying.
But then I hear it—a muffled snort, followed by full-blown laughter.
Jesus fucking Christ.
These two are absolutely insane.
I watch, dumbfounded, as Aggie's shoulders shake.
She drops her hands, revealing eyes bright with tears of laughter instead of rage. "Ye bloody idiot," she wheezes, playfully shoving her sister's shoulder. "I coulda killed ye!"
"Nah." Davina grins. "Ye love me too much. Besides, someone's gotta keep ye on yer toes."
I run a hand through my hair, trying to process the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes.
These Scottish women are a whole different breed of crazy.
But watching Aggie now, her face relaxed and open in a way I rarely see, I can't help but feel a rush of affection.
"You two are going to give me a damn heart attack," I mutter, shaking my head.
Davina's gaze shifts to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe so, but I’m sure yer gonna get used to it. Gotta know, though, is yer family not coming for Christmas?"
I shake my head, feeling a pang of loneliness I hadn't expected. "Nah, my brother's in Portland. Haven't seen him in a while."
The words taste bitter on my tongue.
Victor and I used to be close, but life has a way of pulling people apart.
I push down the ache, plastering on my usual carefree grin.
Davina presses, arching an eyebrow. "Ye sure about that?"
"Course I'm sure," I reply, confusion creeping in. What's she playing at? "Pretty hard to miss a six-foot-four biker showing up on your doorstep."
Just as I'm about to ask what the hell she's on about, a familiar voice cuts through the room like a lightning bolt.
"Kid helped me pull a damn good surprise, huh?"
My heart stops. That voice. It can't be. I whirl around, hardly daring to believe it.
There he is, larger than life, my big brother Victor—Vader to the Deathstalkers MC—standing in the doorway with that trademark smirk of his.
My mind short-circuits, unable to process the sight.
"This can't fuckin' be real," I breathe, closing the distance between us in three long strides.
I pull him into a bear hug.
Victor's deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. "It's real, little brother. Flesh and blood, right here."
I step back, drinking in the sight of him.
Same dark blond hair, same green eyes that run in our family.
But there are new lines around his eyes, a few more scars.
Time hasn't stood still for either of us.
"How long you here for?" I ask, my voice rough with emotion I'm struggling to contain.
"Few days," Victor replies, clapping me on the shoulder. "Gotta head back home after that. But I'm all yours 'til then."
I shake my head, still reeling. "How the fuck did this happen? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but?—"
Victor's eyes slide past me, settling on something—or someone—behind me.
His lips quirk up in a knowing smile. "Your ol' lady made a call. Got me out here as a Christmas gift to you."
I turn, following his gaze to Aggie.
She's watching us with a soft smile, her eyes shining.
And suddenly, everything clicks into place.
My heart swells, threatening to burst right out of my chest.
In two quick strides, I'm across the room.
I scoop Aggie up into my arms, her feet leaving the ground as I crush her to me.
Her surprised laugh is muffled against my chest, and I can feel her smile against my neck.
I capture her lips in a deep, passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I'm feeling into it.
She responds eagerly, her fingers threading through my hair, holding me close.
When we finally break apart, both breathless, I rest my forehead against hers. "God, you have no idea how much I love you," I murmur, my voice thick with emotion.
Aggie's emerald eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and I can see the depth of her feelings reflected back at me. "I love you too. Merry Christmas, Jack."
I set her down gently, but keep her close, one arm wrapped around her waist.
My mind is reeling, trying to process everything.
How long has she been planning this?
"You sneaky little minx," I tease, unable to keep the grin off my face. "How'd you pull this off without me catching on?"