Chapter 147 Happy Thanksgiving

Chapter 147 Happy Thanksgiving
Tegan

The rich, mouth-watering aroma of roasted garlic, brown sugar glaze, and savory herb stuffing completely blanketed the living room of Charlie’s apartment.

It was Thanksgiving afternoon, and for the first time in three weeks, the heavy, suffocating grey curtains had been thrown wide open to let in the pale November sunlight.

"Sophie, if you put one more pink glitter ornament on that decorative autumn cornucopia, I am personally confiscating your crafting scissors," Charlie scolded from the dining table, her strict voice carrying a familiar, grounded energy I’d missed.

"Oh, please, it needs a pop of color!" Sophie giggled, completely unbothered as she violently shook a tube of gold glitter over the centerpiece.

I sat on the velvet sofa, a soft smile pulling at my lips as my hand gently smoothed the fabric of a loose knit maternity sweater over my belly bump.

Nestled right beside my hip, his miniature black velvet cape tied neatly around his neck, was Diablo. He let out a content, high-pitched snort, his bulging, unblinking eyes tracking Sophie’s movements like a tiny gargoyle guarding the gravy boat.

It was cozy, warm, and entirely peaceful, until the doorbell suddenly rang with a sharp, aggressive chime that made the ice in my veins instantly freeze over.

Diablo’s translucent ears flipped back, his entire tiny body beginning to vibrate at a frantic frequency as he let out a low, liquid warning whistle from his throat. Charlie and Sophie didn't jump like I did. In fact, they didn't even look surprised, an incredibly suspicious silence falling over the two of them.

"I'll get it!" Sophie beamed entirely too quickly, sprinting toward the foyer before I could even push myself off the cushions.

She yanked the front door open, and the ambient temperature of the apartment instantly moved to absolute zero.

Stepping across the threshold was Lino and Hayes. They looked like two gladiators who had spent the entire car ride trying to violently run each other off the highway. As expected of both of them by the way.

Lino’s jaw was clenched so tight the bone structural lines beneath his skin looked ready to snap, his leather jacket rustling aggressively as he stepped inside.

But it was the massive 6'4" frame towering right behind him that made the air completely leave my lungs.
Hayes looked impossibly rugged, dark, and lethal. He wore a heavy black wool coat over a charcoal sweater that beautifully framed his broad athletic build, his white hair mussed by the autumn wind.

The second his midnight blue, predatory eyes tracked past the foyer and locked onto my face, and the curve of my stomach, the unyielding, disciplined stone mask he’d been wearing violently fractured.

A fierce, all-consuming wave of raw possession flared deep within his pupils before he forced his hands deep into his pockets.

I cleared my throat loudly and awkwardly, my eyes narrowing as I shot an absolute death glare directly at Sophie and Charlie. They set me up. They had intentionally coordinated this entire Thanksgiving arrival behind my back to force us into the same room.

"Well, look who it is!" Sophie clapped her hands together with an exaggerated, entirely fake innocence.

"Lino, thank goodness you brought the Captain. The turkey is completely out of control, and we desperately need an executive athletic decision in the kitchen."

‘Athletic decision’ What does that even mean? Before Hayes or I could even utter a single syllable of protest, Charlie stepped forward with strict precision.

She grabbed Hayes by his heavy forearm, while Sophie aggressively hooked her arm through mine, physically hoisting me off the sofa.

"Yes, exactly," Charlie chimed in, her voice leaving zero room for negotiation as she pushed the two of us toward the narrow kitchen corridor.

"The seasoning ledger needs to be balanced. Tegan knows the exact clinical temperature metrics, and Hayes has the physical brawn to baste it. Go. Teamwork makes the dream work."

"Charlie, let go of my arm—" I started, the words flaring through my teeth.

Within five seconds, Hayes and I were forcefully shoved past the threshold of the cramped, steam-filled kitchen. The heavy scent of butter and rosemary swirled around us, our bodies standing a mere fraction of an inch apart in the narrow space between the marble counter and the roaring oven.

The silence that settled between us was instantaneous, heavy, and completely suffocating. Hayes slowly slid his hands out of his coat pockets, his tattered, white-wrapped knuckles perfectly steady, his chest heaving against his charcoal sweater as his dark gaze tracked the hem of my knit top.

He didn't touch me. He didn't step into my perimeter, respecting the boundaries of our awkward truce, but his massive physical presence dominated the small room.

"I'm going to check on the dining table settings," I muttered under my breath, my cheeks flushing a deep, furious crimson under the weight of his unblinking gaze.

I turned on my heel, my knit sweater brushing against his arm as I marched back toward the kitchen door, fully intending to rip Sophie and Charlie a brand-new medical vocabulary lesson for this ambush they forced me in.

I grabbed the heavy brass handle of the kitchen door. I pulled. The door didn't budge an inch against the frame.

I blinked in utter confusion, my fingers tightening around the metal as I rattled the handle aggressively. A split second later, from the opposite side of the thick wood panel, the sharp, distinct, and unmistakable click of an exterior deadbolt locking into place echoed through the keyhole.

My heart violently slammed against my ribcage, a cold jolt of raw adrenaline shooting straight through my chest. They hadn't just benched us from the holiday. They had fucking locked the door from the outside.

"Sophie! Charlie! Open this goddamn door right now!" I yelled, slamming my flat palm against the thick wood, my voice cracking through the quiet of the kitchen.

A muffled, dramatic giggle from Sophie echoed through the drywall, followed by Charlie’s calm, unyielding voice. "Enjoy the turkey, Tegan. We'll let you guys out after you two learn how to breathe in the same room again. Happy Thanksgiving!"

Their footsteps faded rapidly down the hallway toward the living room, leaving the space in a ringing silence. I stood frozen at the threshold, my breathing turning shallow as the realization crashed over my mind like a tidal wave.

I was trapped in a dead end. And as the heavy, suffocating heat of the oven swirled around the room, I could hear the slow, heavy crunch of Hayes’s boots shifting against the floorboards directly behind my shoulder. I'm so fucked.