36. Flora

36

FLORA

I stretch lazily in bed, savoring the warmth of the blankets on this Christmas Eve morning. The space beside me feels empty. Nash and Colt must have gotten up already. The carnival’s usual bustle is absent today since we’re on break until after Christmas.

Sitting up, I notice their pillows are cold. They’ve been gone a while. The trailer feels different in the morning stillness without their presence. I’ve grown so used to waking up between them, feeling their protective warmth.

I wrap myself in my soft purple robe and pad across the bedroom floor. The wooden boards creak slightly under my feet as I approach the kitchen. The living area is empty, too, though I spot coffee mugs in the sink.

The kitchen is unusually tidy for them. Colt usually leaves some evidence of his morning routine, and Nash typically has papers spread across the counter from reviewing show notes. But everything is put away, not a thing out of place.

Fresh snow has fallen overnight, coating the carnival grounds in white. The other trailers, with their frosted roofs, look like gingerbread houses. Somewhere in the distance, I hear faint Christmas music playing.

I step into the kitchen, the linoleum floor cold against my bare feet. The coffee pot is still warm, so they couldn’t have left long ago. I wonder what my two men are up to on this peaceful Christmas Eve morning.

I curl up on the couch with my coffee, pulling my favorite blanket around me. The warmth seeps into my bones as I inhale the rich aroma. The door swings open as I settle, and my boys stride in, bringing a gust of cold air.

“Where were you two?” I ask, taking in their flushed cheeks and serious expressions.

Nash shrugs off his jacket while Colt stomps snow from his boots. “Had to talk to Ty,” Nash says, running a hand through his dark hair.

“About what?” I ask.

“About you knowing the truth about the carnival’s darker operations,” Colt says, sitting beside me. “

My stomach tightens. I’d wondered when this conversation would happen. “How did he take it?”

“Better than we expected, actually,” Nash says, claiming the spot on my other side. His body heat radiates through my blanket. “He understands why we told you.”

“Really?” I look between them, searching their faces for any sign of trouble.

“Really,” Colt confirms, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “He knows you’re part of us now. That means you’re part of everything.”

Nash nods. “Ty gets it.”

The tension drains from my body, and I sink deeper into their embrace. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about Ty’s reaction until now.

I curl deeper into the couch between Nash and Colt. “So we have a week off now?”

“That’s right,” Nash confirms, his fingers playing with my hair.

“Yes, a whole week to spend together, all day and all night long,” Colt adds, squeezing my shoulder.

We all groan contentedly at the thought. No training schedule means we can really explore our relationship without interruption. The carnival’s winter break gives us precious time to figure out our unique dynamic.

“And what about Tommy and Jake’s disappearance?” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, the image of their bodies broken and battered bringing me a sick satisfaction.

Colt shrugs. “What about it?”

My brow furrows. “We killed them. Surely they’ll be reported as missing?”

Nash shakes his head. “Phoenix is covering all bases. I asked him to get onto it. We’ll know if there’s any trouble or whisper of them being reported missing. Tommy and Jake were adults. It will be assumed they’ve just taken off together or something. And after their cell phones landed their location here last, Phoenix changed the cell data to make it look like they left here and went straight to New York.”

A heaviness lifts from my shoulders hearing that. “Wow, you guys think of everything, don’t you?”

Colt smirks. “Of course, we’re professionals, angel.”

Nash moves a little closer to me. “Anyway, enough about those assholes. About the fact we’ve got all week to spend together.” He raises a brow. “How about we get started with a Christmas movie and you naked on my dick?”

I feel an ache ignite deep at the idea, but I shake my head. “While that does sound perfect, first, I need to run to the store for some Christmas shopping.”

Nash and Colt share a look over my head. I know they’re still protective after everything, but I need to buy them presents without them hovering.

“I won’t be gone long,” I promise. “And the store is just in town. I’ll take my phone.”

“We could come with you,” Colt suggests.

I shake my head. “How am I supposed to buy your presents if you’re right there?”

Nash chuckles. “She has a point.”

“Fine,” Colt relents. “But straight there and back.”

“Yes, sir,” I tease, earning another squeeze from both.

I step into the shower, letting the hot water wash over me. After washing my hair and body, I dry off quickly, eager to do my Christmas shopping. The mirror is foggy as I brush my long blonde hair and apply minimal makeup.

Wrapping my threadbare coat around myself, I grimace at how thin it feels. The zipper sticks halfway up, reminding me why I usually layer sweaters underneath it.

“Wait,” Colt calls from the bedroom. “Nash and I were going to save this for Christmas, but...” He disappears into the closet and returns with a large box.

“You need it now,” Nash finishes, standing beside Colt.

Colt holds out the box to me. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, lies the most beautiful winter coat I’ve ever seen. The material is thick and plush, deep purple, with silver buttons down the front.

“It’s perfect,” I breathe, my fingers gliding over the soft fabric.

“Try it on,” Nash encourages.

I slip my arms into the sleeves, marveling at how perfectly it fits. The coat hugs my curves while allowing room for movement, and the length falls past my knees. The inside is lined with the softest material I’ve ever felt.

“You both got this for me?” I ask, touched by their thoughtfulness.

“We couldn’t have our girl freezing,” Colt says.

I kiss him deeply, then turn to give Nash the same treatment. “Thank you both. I love it.”

“Stay warm out there,” Nash says as I approach the door.

My new coat staves off the cold as I walk down the steps and onto the snow-covered ground.

I pull it tighter around me as I walk through the snow-covered carnival grounds. For the first time in forever, I feel... lighter. Free. The weight of my past doesn’t press down quite as hard anymore.

I don’t remember much about my real parents. Just fragments, really—a woman’s perfume maybe, or the sound of a deep laugh. The social workers told me my parents dropped me off at a care center when I was four. They didn’t explain, no goodbye, just left me there like an unwanted package.

The foster homes that followed blur together in my memory. Some were better than others, but none felt like home. The worst foster home was here in Easthollow with the Lowleys.

A snowflake lands on my nose, and I smile, tilting my face up to catch more. The carnival is quiet this morning, peaceful under its blanket of white. No one around to see me act childish, spinning in slow circles with my arms spread wide.

The memories that used to haunt me daily are still there, but they no longer have the same power over me. My new coat wraps me in warmth, a physical reminder that I’m cared for now, protected, and loved.

For the first time since my abandonment, I feel like I have a real family. Not the kind that leaves, hurts, or ignores. The kind that stays, fights for you, and loves you exactly as you are.

I head into town, my first stop being a small boutique. For Alice, I find a quirky coffee mug with a sassy saying—perfect for her bold personality. Lily would love this delicate silver bracelet with tiny stars.

Moving to the bookstore next door, I spot a leather-bound journal that screams Tilly’s name. She’s always scribbling code and game ideas. For Aurora, I pick up the latest thriller novel she’s been talking about.

Sofia’s gift is trickier, but I find a beautiful burgundy scarf that perfectly complements her hair.

For my boys... I want something special. Something that shows how much they mean to me. In an antique shop, I discover two matching vintage pocket watches. The shopkeeper tells me they’re from the same set—meant to be together, just like Nash and Colt. They’re beautiful, with intricate engravings and heavy silver cases. They cost most of my savings, but they’re worth it.

I also pick up some leather cords so they can wear the watches around their necks. The thought of them wearing matching pieces makes me smile.

As I gather my bags, warmth spreads through my chest. These aren’t just gifts—they’re tangible proof that I have people in my life worth celebrating—people who care about me and people I care about in return.