by Staci Hart
She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. All the breath left her in a whoosh. “You broke into my house?”
“I had a key that you gave me.”
“Three years ago, before you disappeared.” She snatched the key from his hand.
“Why didn’t you change the locks, Jo?”
“None of your goddamn business,” she spat, though she certainly would. Changing her locks wouldn’t stop Rhodes, but it would have at least stopped Jon.
“I’m sorry, Josie,” he said, and he even looked sorry, which upset her even more. “But you weren’t giving anything up, and I had to know. You’d have done the same.”
“Fuck you.” Her voice wavered, and she hated herself for it.
“Listen, Jo. I saw your wall, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be following this guy. If he did what you think he’s done … I’m worried about you.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think is or isn’t a good idea. Goddammit, Jon. Who do you think you are?”
“I’m trying to help—”
“I don’t need your help.” She was almost yelling and took a deep breath.
“No, you don’t. You seem to have done a fine job on your own.”
She shot him a look, and he shook his head.
“I’m not bullshitting. You may be right about Rhodes, but I don’t believe you couldn’t use help. And I do believe that this whole thing could put you in danger.”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been in danger. I know how to handle myself.”
Jon’s brow dropped with his voice, which was resolute. “You stubborn ass woman. Don’t you understand that I don’t want you to get hurt?”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want, either.”
He was silent for a moment as he looked over her, and her muscles were burning to reach out and hit him, push him, get the energy out of her arms through her fist and into him. It took everything she had to sit still, and she trembled from the force.
“I don’t believe that either,” he said, plainly and without doubt, and she lost it.
“Why are you doing this to me? Can’t you just leave me alone?” Her eyes stung as she laid into him, practically snarling. “You left me alone for three fucking years, and now you’re back and EVERYWHERE, even in my fucking goddamn apartment. Jon, you have to stay away. Stay away from me, stay out of my life, and get the fuck out of my car before I hurt you.”
He looked as miserable as she felt as he watched her across the space between them in silence. She counted through four breaths before he finally opened the car door and stepped out, leaning in one final time.
“Please, be careful.”
He didn’t wait for a response, just shut the door and walked away.
———— Olympus ————
Dita stared at her tiled bedroom ceiling in the near dark. Her eyelids were iron curtains, but sleep wouldn’t come. She rubbed her aching eyes and rolled over to face her clock. Two in the morning. She blinked, slow and heavy.
Shame and anger stirred like a sleeping beast in her chest as she lay where Perry had left her. She’d lied, but Perry took it too far, and she’d lost Adonis again. Perry just destroyed the mirror without any real debate or compromise.
Some part of her was restored just by seeing him, just by knowing he existed somewhere, even if he was beyond her reach. But he was gone again forever, and it was more than she could stand. The loss was too much to bear, too cold in her chest as the wound gaped open. She wrapped her arms around her knees and squeezed, trying to hold herself together.
Even under the best of circumstances, the hours that stretched through the night were the hardest. When left alone to her thoughts in the dark, she obsessed about every decision, every mistake. Her heart broke fresh, a thousand times, every night. She longed for Elysium, for the cool breeze under the olive tree’s canopy, for Adonis’ arms. But it was all gone. It was all a lie, and she had no one to turn to.
In that moment, she was more alone than she had been in her entire existence.
A sob shuddered in her chest, and she drew a shaky breath as the tears she thought were gone rolled down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Her life was a thing unrecognizable, a tangled, knotted chain of choices that bound her. How could she have let it happen? How could she have lost everything? And how could she ever break free?
And in her mind she saw herself, a dove in a cage that burst in an explosion of twinkling glass, and she pumped her wings, higher and higher, leaving everything behind until it was small enough that it couldn’t hurt her.
The bed moved at her feet, and she looked down at a mound under the sheets and blankets that grew bigger and wider as it inched toward her. She made out his back, then his head as he moved up the bed, and when the covers slipped back, it was Ares, huge and red, his eyes full of hate, his teeth flashing white as he smiled and wrapped his hands around her neck.
Her body jerked as she woke, her heart beating fast and sharp as she gasped for air. She could still feel the weight of him, the ghost of his fingers against her skin.
She took a shuddering breath as her muscles relaxed.
It was only a dream. Just a dream.
The thought didn’t make her feel any better. She glanced at the clock. It was three.
Her nerves crawled, and her stomach rolled, grumbling and twisting. She couldn’t lie there a second longer. She kicked her covers off and paced around the dark room.
Dita didn’t know what to do with herself, and she couldn’t ask the one person who usually had the answer.
What would Perry do?
Perry would probably make her eat something and bring her some tea, but to do that on her own would mean going upstairs. Alone. She paused, trying to convince herself that no one would be in the kitchen so late, surely.
Bisoux didn’t stir as she climbed out of bed, other than his tiny paws twitching as he slept. She slipped on flip flops and headed for the elevator.
Dita shuffled her way into the kitchen and opened the fridge to stare at the ambrosia lined up on the shelves. She grabbed a plate and a bottle of nectar and took them to the counter, then eyeballed the glop and tried to figure out what sounded good.
Cookies. Cookies always sound good. She closed her eyes and opened them to a heaping plate of warm, gooey, chocolate chip cookies. She poured a glass of nectar and blinked, transforming it into milk, and sat down at the bar.
Dita shoveled food into her mouth in silence, but about halfway through her third cookie, she felt someone behind her. When she looked over her shoulder, every bite came rushing up.
Ares was close enough to touch, his face unreadable, his dark hair a mess. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe with his eyes boring into her as he loomed over her, both of them rooted to the spot.
He broke the trance as he moved around the bar, but she couldn’t look away. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you,” he said.
Her stomach turned, and her body went numb. She wanted to get up and run, but her body wouldn’t respond as she stared at him, unable to speak.
“How are you?”
She almost laughed. “You’re kidding. Please, tell me you’re kidding.” She balled her shaking hands into fists and laid them in her lap.
He looked at her with so much feeling that she felt the tug, that pull to him, and her nerves screamed at her. His voice was low. “I know you don’t think I have any right to ask—”
She was hot and cold all at once. “No. You have no rights, not when it comes to me.”
He studied her face for a long moment until she couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed her chair back and stood.
“I can’t do this,” Dita said under her breath and turned to walk away.
With three swift steps, he was behind her, grabbing her arm just enough to control her. He pulled her to a stop, and she jerked her arm away from him.
Ares straightened up, his jaw set as he looked down at her. “Dita, yo
u have to talk to me eventually.”
“I don’t have to do anything. I’ve said all I need to say.”
“Please.” Command snaked the undercurrent of the word.
“Leave me alone,” she whispered through her teeth and spun away from him, walking as fast as she could without running toward the elevator.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” he called after her. She turned when she made it into the elevator and watched him as the doors closed, the shadows from the dim light hiding his eyes, his jaw flexing as he watched her run away.
She leaned against the cool, metal wall, holding herself up by the handrail. Her eyes closed, but she didn’t move, not until she heard the door open. She stumbled out and looked around, confused. It took her a moment to realize that she was in Heff’s foyer.
As she stood stupidly for a second trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, Heff padded into the room in sleep pants, his chest bare. He ran his hand through his dark hair and squinted at her.
“Dita?” His eyes snapped open and his brow dropped as he moved for her. “Are you all right?” He stopped in front of her, cupped her cheek, searched her face.
His fingers against her skin were like fire, and his eyes held her. “I … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you so late.”
“Tell me what happened,” he urged.
Her shoulders sagged, and she closed her eyes.
“Come here, come sit down.” He scooped her into his chest, and she smelled wood smoke as she pressed her cheek against him, feeling safe for the first time in a long time. He pulled away and guided her to his black leather couch.
She sat and stared at her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, Heff. I shouldn’t have come here. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.”
He sat next to her and angled to rest his forearm on the back of the low couch. “Tell me.”
She picked at her fingernails. “Perry and I got in a fight.”
“I heard.”
“I figured.” Dita couldn’t meet his eyes. “I just … she destroyed it. It was like I got a second chance, and she smashed it, and I’m not okay.”
“I know.”
She looked over at him and smiled, though her brow was drawn, her cheeks tight. “I haven’t been upstairs, not since our fight, and I haven’t been sleeping. Every time I fall asleep, the dreams …” She zoned out, then gave her head a shake. “I was starving, so I went upstairs. He was there.”
Heff took a breath, and his eyes glinted. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. He wanted to talk.” Heff didn’t look convinced, and she laid her hand on his knee. “Really. I’m sorry to worry you. This is why I didn’t want to say anything. This is why I haven’t …”
“I knew you weren’t all right, but I was waiting on you to come to me. You always do, when you’re ready.”
Of course he knew. Of course he gave me space. “You know me just about better than anyone.”
“I’ve had a long time to learn. I’m glad he didn’t hurt you, for his sake.”
“I’m just …” She dropped her head to her hands, still shaking. “I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to be afraid of him.”
He moved his hand to her back, his touch soft, his words softer. “He has no power over you.”
“But he does, and I don’t know how to break it. I have to, Heff. I have to.” Her voice broke.
“Shh,” he whispered, and pulled her into his chest as his heart pumped for her and raged at Ares, the pain of one indistinguishable from the other as she lay broken in his arms. “We’ll find a way. I promise.”
Day 5
A BLANKET OF FOG HUNG over Josie as she parked just down from the home of Renata Boyles, a seventy-year-old hooker who had jumped bail. It was early enough that she hoped she could catch Renata still asleep.
Josie’s limbs weighed a hundred pounds as she walked up the sidewalk. After Jon took off the night before, she sped home fighting back tears and her temper. When she got home, she stripped off her jacket and kicked off her shoes, her eyes never leaving her evidence board as she tried to get a grip, but it was a lost cause. He broke in and violated her trust and privacy, but even though she was beyond furious, she wondered what he had seen, what he made of the wall.
The fact that she cared what he thought had nearly pushed her over the edge, and she’d resisted the temptation to break something, something that would shatter and explode and make that destructive sound as it busted against a wall. Josie felt like that sound would somehow make her feel better. But instead, she stared at the board all night, finally dragging herself to bed just as the sun began to rise and slept for only a few hours before she’d gotten the call from Jerry J’s.
As she approached Renata’s fence, she saw Jon crouched down by the crawl space lattice. She stopped cold with her jaw hanging.
Mother fucker.
Twice in a week, Jerry J’s had fucked up, which was rare enough on its own, but she wondered what the odds were that she would get crossed with him. He glanced over at her, and his eyes bugged for a second before he jerked his chin, motioning for her to get out of the way. She ducked as she trotted through the gate and knelt down next to him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed.
“Good morning to you too, Josie.” He smiled like they’d run into each other at the grocery store instead of hiding outside an old lady hooker’s house. “You look like you got a terrible night’s sleep.”
“Funny.”
“Sarah at Jerry’s sent me.”
She looked out into the street and tried to control herself. “Goddammit. Elaine sent me.”
“I guess we’re together on this one, then. Unless you wanted to give it up?” He rested his elbow on his knee, and his apparent comfort gave her resolve.
“Nice try.” She pushed her anger down, not wanting to give in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Just get it done, and get the fuck away. “How do you want to play this?”
“I saw her through the open window watching the Home Shopping Network. We’ve gotta figure out how to get her out of the house.”
“You need to honey trap her. Just act like you’re a client.”
Jon shook his head and ran a hand through his long hair. “Everybody has their weird bedroom shit, I guess, but a seventy-year-old hooker? Pass.”
She rolled her eyes and waved him on. “Go, Jon.”
He stepped away from the side of the house and was moving toward the stairs when Josie heard the unmistakable click of a safety from the patio.
“Hold it right there, gorgeous.”
Josie glanced up to see a frail old woman in a halter top and yoga pants that hung on her boney hips. Her blond hair was in a knot, a cigarette hung out of her mouth, and her massive revolver was aimed directly at Jon.
Jon’s heart drummed as he looked up the barrel at the old woman, who squinted at him.
He held up his hands. “Hey, there. Are you Renata? I got your address from a buddy of mine.” Jon watched out of his periphery as Josie disappeared around the side of the house and hoisted herself into an open window.
“Is that so?” Renata took a long drag and flicked her cigarette butt, then gripped the gun with both hands. “What’s your buddy’s name, then?”
“James.”
Renata smiled. “I don’t know no James.”
She fired at his feet.
“Holy shit,” Jon yelled, and jumped. “Jesus Christ, lady, I was just lookin’ for a good time.”
“Oh, I saw you lookin’. Creepin’ around my house. I know who you are, you little shit.” She fired again at his feet, and he hopped again.
“Fuck! Who do you think I am?”
“Honey, this ain’t my first time at the rodeo. You run back off to Jerry J and tell him you couldn’t find old Renata.”
The screen door squeaked behind her, but before she had a chance to turn, Josie had her. Another shot rang, and Jon ducked the wild bullet.
“Well, Renata,” Josie said as she cuffed the hooker, “you’ve still got your spunk.”
Renata’s scowled. “You don’t know jack-diddly-shit about spunk. I’ve dealt with spunk my whole life, and I ain’t no better for it.”
Josie laughed as Jon climbed the porch stairs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
He shook his head at the old lady. “Goddamn, Renata. You sure are somethin’, you know that?”
“You have no idea.” Her sour expression disappeared as she wet her lips and looked him up and down. He felt like a side of beef, and she looked like she was starving. “I sure am pissed to get nabbed, but now that I see you up close, I’m damn glad I didn’t shoot you. You sure are pretty.”
“Hear that, Jo?” He hitched his thumb at Renata. “She thinks I’m pretty.”
Josie’s smile slipped into a scowl. “I don’t even know how you can joke with me right now, because we are one-hundred-percent not okay.” Her conscience seemed to get the best of her, and she added, “Are you all right?”
“Please,” he said with a grin. “little Renata here can’t scare me.” He winked at the hooker.
“You don’t know me too well, then,” Renata answered with a leer. “I could acquaint you if you’d get rid of the girl.”
“There’s no escaping Josie. Trust me when I say that no amount of time or space can rid you of her once you’ve been exposed,” he said with a light tone and a heavy chest as they helped the old woman down the stairs.
Josie said through her teeth, “You have got to be fucking kidding me. God, you’re impossible. You broke into my apartment for fuck’s sake.”
“I had a key.”
“You were not authorized to use that key, asshole!” Her voice climbed to the edge of shrill.
“Who dumped who?” Renata asked.
Josie was twitchy as she answered sarcastically, “If you’ll believe it, Renata, Jon here actually wrote me a Dear John when he left me for his pregnant ex-girlfriend.”
“Well, I’ll be damned. Pretty, but not smart.”
“Many women would agree.” Josie glared at him.
“Look at you two bonding,” Jon said cheerily to Josie, then turned to Renata. “You know, that gun’s almost bigger than you are.”