Hearts and Arrows Box Set

by Staci Hart

  All he’d ever done was try to be there for her, but he wasn’t allowed to ask for a single, simple thing without being turned into a villain. He felt the blood rise to his face, felt the burn in the back of his throat.

  “All you wanted? Goddammit, Josie. I’ve done everything I can to convince you. I’ve waited for you all this time, given you space and gladly because I thought that was what you needed. I’ve tried to prove to you that I’m here, that I’ll always be here. But once again, I have no say. Your word is gospel, but what about what I want? Don’t I have a choice? Why does everything have to be on your terms?”

  She didn’t move.

  His blood ran cold. “Josie, right now, you’re treating me like I don’t matter. Through all of this, I never thought you meant it when you said you didn’t want me. But right now, I feel used, and that is one thing I won’t fucking stand for. What more can I give you? What more do you want from me?” His voice broke.

  She didn’t turn, only said, “I don’t know if I want anything from you.”

  “Damn you. God damn you.” The words wavered as he spit them out and turned away, moving to find his bag, digging through it to occupy himself. “Go get yourself together. We’re leaving.”

  “I—”

  He spun around, unable to keep himself together for a single second longer. “No. That’s it. I can’t keep doing this with you. You think I’m the one who’ll hurt you, but the truth is that you’re far more dangerous than I ever was.”

  He turned to stuff his belongings back in his bag, and she stared at his back as tears spilled down her cheeks.

  Josie picked up her bag and walked numbly to the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a click. She looked at her reflection and didn’t even recognize herself. She was only a shell, the wasted person who was left after the pain of her past ripped through her like a swarm.

  The words she’d spoken echoed through her mind. I don’t know if I want anything from you. She didn’t know how to want, how to give, how to love, or how she could live up to anyone’s expectations. She didn’t know how to answer him. She couldn’t say the words she knew he wanted to hear because she didn’t know if they were true.

  Josie sank down to the cold, tile floor and dropped her face to her hands, hoping he couldn’t hear her cry.

  ———— Olympus ————

  Dita sat in the dim theater room with her mouth hanging open and her eyes on the screen. The gods were silent as they stared at Josie as she cried, her sobs the only sound in the room. After a long, stunned moment, Dionysus stood and grabbed the remote.

  “Welp. I think we could all use a little breather,” he said as he clicked off the screen and brought the lights up.

  A few gods got up to leave, but most stayed put, looking around, ready for more.

  “I’m serious. Show’s over for now, at least the public one. Come on, come on. Break it up, everybody.” He raised his dark eyebrows, and his blue eyes surveyed the room expectantly.

  The rest reluctantly shuffled out of the room, whispering and mumbling.

  Di sat next to Perry and Dita. “I think it’s time to get drunk. Fireball for everybody.”

  Dita side-eyed him.

  “I’m not kidding, Dita. You need to get wasted, like, yesterday. Come on.”

  He stood and started for the elevator, and Perry pulled Dita out of the chair.

  “You really want to do this?” Dita asked her with an eyebrow cocked.

  Perry shrugged. “Honestly, I could use a drink. Let’s go.”

  They followed Dionysus to the elevator, then up to his apartment. Everything was posh and plush with the occasional touch of animal print, which should have been tacky, but Di pulled it off with ironic, hipstery ease.

  “Sit please, ladies, whilst I prepare libations.” He motioned to the sectional with a smirk behind his scruffy, black beard, then pulled his long hair back as he headed for the bar.

  They sat down, and Dita was miserable. Josie had crushed Jon’s spirit, broken his heart in fresh and gruesome ways with just a few words. She was so confused and gnarled, but Dita understood where she was in that moment and hoped their feelings for each other would overcome their hurt.

  “It’s too quiet,” Perry said with her eyes on Dita, who nodded. “Hey Di, can we turn on some music or something?”

  “Oh, yeah, hang on.” He punched an intercom on his wall. “Panos, could you come up? Bring your vinyl.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Dionysus made his way over with a tray of shots just as a satyr with small horns sticking out of his dreadlocks came in with a crate of records. His hooves clomped against the hardwood as he walked past and jerked his chin in greeting.

  “‘Sup, ladies?”

  They waved, and Dionysus motioned to the turntables off the living room.

  “Hey, Panos. You can set up over there.”

  “Word,” he said with a smile.

  Dionysus set his tray on the coffee table, took a seat next to Dita, and handed her a drink, passing another to Perry. He picked up one of his own and held it up. “Here’s to the mantra that should be repeated whenever things get stupid. Fuck it.”

  “Fuck it,” the goddesses cheered and laughed when their glasses clinked together, and they knocked the shots back.

  The cinnamon whiskey lit a trail of heat down Dita’s throat and into her stomach, spreading out like wildfire. She reached for another.

  “That’s the spirit.” Dionysus raised another glass.

  An hour later, Dita was properly foxed, as was Perry, who cackled at Dita’s reenactment of Ares getting knocked on his ass during the Trojan War. Dita’s tongue hung out as she crossed her eyes with her head lolling, and she made a choked noise that sounded like a ‘gluh’ before she flopped down on the couch giggling.

  “Gods, what did I ever see in that asshole?” Dita’s cheeks were hot from all the laughing and maybe the whiskey.

  “That question is more loaded than you are,” Dionysus said before he slammed another shot.

  Dita laughed. “I can handle it. I’ve found a new perspective,” she said, cheerily.

  Dionysus wailed the chorus of “New Attitude” by the Pointer Sisters, and Perry giggled as she reached for another shot. Dita held her hand out for one, and when it made its way into her waiting fingers, she kicked it back.

  “I do have a new attitude. I think I’m over it.”

  Perry shared a look with Di, and they laughed heartily and with no remorse.

  “What? Look I’ll prove it.” She stood up too fast and stumbled as she tried to get past Dionysus and Perry. “Whoopsie.” She giggled again as she walked around the coffee table. “Okay, okay. So,” she put on a serious face, “I have realized something very important. Ares is a dick.”

  “And the sky is blue and Zeus is a whore. Tell us something we don’t know.” Di snickered.

  “I’m getting to that.” Dita waved her hands at them. “What I mean to say is that I can’t find any redeeming qualities in him anymore. Aside from his giant hammerhead cock.”

  “Hear, hear!” Dionysus cheered with his glass held high.

  “He’s mean and cruel. He’s a baby. He’s a liar.” Her smile faded. “He has no respect for anyone else. He only cares about himself. He never cared about me, not really.” Her voice dropped. “It’s the cruelest kind of love, the kind that takes and never gives. But that’s what he does, and I won’t play a part in it any longer.”

  She sat back down and reached for another shot in the quiet room as Perry and Di sipped their drinks with their eyes on her.

  “Don’t worry,” she said with the shot glass at her lips. “I’m not going to flip out or anything.”

  Perry laid a hand on Dita’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re figuring it out.”

  She lowered the glass slowly, staring at a spot across the room. “I still can’t believe how much my life has changed in the last few months. On the one hand, I’m grateful for the truth, but my he
art feels like it’s been run through a meat grinder.”

  “What’s your plan from here?” Dionysus asked.

  Dita sighed. “I’ve got to face Señor Cocko de Vulvus.” She knocked back the whiskey and set the empty glass on the tray with a clink.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Perry’s eyebrow was up.

  “It’s like trying to give yourself a Brazilian. You can’t think about it, just have to rip that motherfucking wax off and scream about it afterward,” Dita said with a shrug and sank into the couch. “I just want it to be over, and this is the last thing I can do that’s in my control. If I don’t face him, I’ll just be waiting for it. I need to just take the reins and fucking do it.”

  “So what are you going to say?” Perry asked.

  “Dear Ares, you slimy piece of shit, I hate you. Go away,” Dita said gleefully. “Do you think that’ll work?”

  “Sure, sure. I’m sure he’ll be like, ‘Gee, I sure am sorry. I’ll just go now. My bad!’ Problem solved.” Di gave a thumbs up with a cheesy grin.

  “Ha, ha, ha, and a fuck you too,” Dita sang.

  Dionysus tried to hand her another drink, but she put up her hand to stop him.

  “And what’s next for you?” he asked.

  “I need to learn how to be alone.”

  Di busted out laughing, then stopped dead and eyed her. “Oh, you were serious.”

  Dita gave him a look. “Yes, I’m serious. I’ve been fucking up my relationships for millennia. It’s time to get it right, but I’ve got to fix myself first. Number one rule of love is that you can’t find it if you’re broken.”

  Perry giggled. “Followed closely by ‘Timing is everything’ and ‘Beware of rest stops after midnight.’”

  “Exactly. I’ll figure something out, though, and then we can all move on.”

  Perry and Dionysus sipped their drinks, and the statement hung in the air between them all.

  ———— South Dakota ————

  Josie looked out the window with music in her ears as the midnight forest flew by outside. She held herself tight with her feet on the dash, trying to sort through everything she felt and making no headway.

  When they left the motel, she popped in her earbuds so they could both have some semblance of privacy for a while. Jon fumed from behind the wheel with his head propped on his hand, fingers tangled in his long hair. He hadn’t made eye contact with her once. His anger rolled off of him and filled every molecule in the air. She just didn’t know what to say to make it right or what right even was.

  She watched the moon strobe between the trees as her thoughts jumbled together like a pile-up, all metal and sharp points and busted glass. It was too much, too many things to deal with at once.

  You’re far more dangerous than I ever was.

  It was true. For so long she’d been alone, fanning her anger and pain, blaming him for everything. For abandoning her, for loving someone else, for not saying goodbye. But it was all a lie. Everything she felt was based on her perception, which was sideways and skewed. He’d tried to tell her, tried to make her understand, but she was too bullheaded to hear him. Jon did what he believed was right at every step, and she’d only punished him for it.

  She felt like she was waking up from a coma, learning how to breathe again, dragging her heart behind her like atrophied limbs, and she didn’t know if she could give him any part of herself until she found a way to heal.

  Jon stared at the road with his forehead tight and his heart in a pressure cooker.

  After everything they’d been through, after all he’d tried to do, and she couldn’t even have a conversation with him about herself, about them. He wasn’t asking for the world, just for her honesty. But he wanted everything she wouldn’t give, and she wanted the one thing he wouldn’t.

  He’d give her anything, everything, but he refused to be used.

  She was twisted up and mangled, but he couldn’t help her no matter how hard he tried. No one could because she threw every attempt on the fire.

  Josie said she didn’t know if she wanted anything from him, but he wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. Maybe his feelings were one-sided. Maybe her feelings were only physical, only attraction, and she’d never really cared for him at all. His stomach burned at the thought. He could have read her wrong the whole time. How could he win her heart back if he’d never had it to begin with?

  But he knew better. He hadn’t imagined it all. She had been through so much, and he knew it, understood it. He just couldn’t be a casualty anymore, wouldn’t put his heart on the line again for her if she wasn’t willing to try.

  It was late, though Artemis wasn’t sure of the time as she lay in her tent on her feather bed, running her hand through the sheepskin under her. She had been chasing sleep for hours, staring at the roof of her tent, watching the shadows from a flickering candle as it burned down.

  She should have been happy that Jon and Josie fought, that they were once again at odds, but as she watched their hearts break, she could find no joy. The game suddenly seemed cruel, and she wanted no part of it. Josie was too hurt, too confused to toy with, to keep away from a man who would do anything, be anything for her. A man whom she loved, who could heal her. If Jon walked away again, she would never recover. That much, Artemis knew. It was a life that had become her own.

  She flipped her blankets off and stood, feeling her rug under her bare feet, then the grass as she pushed her tent flap open and walked into the night. Her shift was long, nearly dragging the ground, illuminated by the moonlight, glowing against the black of the evening around her, as black as her hair that tumbled down her back. The moon called her, and she made her way through the sleeping camp with her eyes on the stars. She scaled the slate boulder and lay down on the cool stone.

  Solitude was something she was accustomed to, something she sought. When she was alone, there were no expectations, and her failures could be forgotten or remembered. She could be whatever she wished, even nothing at all, a slave to her instinct as she hunted or as still as a river stone, watching as life rushed past.

  Perhaps Eleni was right. Perhaps she and Josie were too much the same. For once, Artemis’ logic and instinct failed her, and she’d reached the point where she wanted Josie to find peace more than she wanted to win. Josie’s pain had become her own, a representation of her own loss, her own loneliness.

  Orion twinkled on the horizon, and her eyes followed the line of stars that made his form.

  “I have missed you more than can be imagined,” she said to the sky. “I do not know where I lost myself, but along the way I have changed, and I wonder whether you would be proud or disappointed.”

  A lone tear fell from the corner of her eye and into her ear. She could never have him back, but she didn’t know how to let him go. Time had healed her, but the break was never set, and what was left healed crooked and bent from neglect. She was just as broken as Josie, though worse because there was no escape.

  The only way out was through herself. She was ill equipped to handle it on her own, but no one could help her. She wouldn’t let them. It was a prison she built without knowing, comprised of bitterness and anger, designed and imposed by herself alone, not Gaia, not Aphrodite. It was Artemis’ own doing.

  She could not change the past, but she could not fathom how to shape her future, how to find herself after being lost for so long.

  Day 11

  DITA WOKE THAT MORNING WHEN her bed sagged under Perry’s weight.

  “Hey, friend,” Perry said as she crawled under the fluffy covers. “How ‘ya feeling?”

  Dita stretched out and sighed, content. “Like fifty million bucks, Fireball and all. I slept. Again.”

  “This makes me very, very happy.” Perry smiled from the pillow next to Dita.

  “Me too.” Dita gasped. “Oh gods, are Jon and Josie okay?”

  “They’re fine. Have a look.”

  They looked in on the players. Jon was haggard as he drove
in the early morning sun, and Josie slept against the window, her brow creased even in sleep.

  “They look terrible.” Dita felt like rotten garbage as she watched them.

  “I know. What are you gonna do?”

  “I don’t know. I need to come up with a plan,” Dita answered with her eyes on Jon, who looked like he could explode from the tension.

  “Okay. Well, while you’re thinking about it, let’s talk about Ares,” Perry said, all chipper and merry.

  “Ugh. You’re fucking evil.” Dita pulled a pillow over her face. “It is way too early for that.”

  Perry giggled and propped her head on her hand. “When are you going to talk to him?”

  Dita moved the pillow, hugging it against her chest. “I don’t know that either. Not until I figure out what to say. It’s so strange. I don’t know how I can just pick myself up and talk to him. I’ve only seen him once, and I flipped out, so who knows if I can maintain whatever facade of decorum I have going on when I’m face to face with him.” Her chest was heavy at the thought. “Maybe I can’t do it.”

  “Yes, you can. I promise.”

  “How can you promise that?”

  “Dita, remember where I came from. Remember who I’m married to.” Perry laid her head back down and buried herself in the pillow, tucking in the end so she could see Dita. “I know you know this story well, but maybe it has a new meaning for you now.”

  Dita bit her lip and nodded as she reached for Perry’s hand.

  “The day that Hades came for me, we were picking flowers, the Oceanids, Artemis, Athena and I, when the earth began to shake. We fell to the ground as it split open in a chasm shaped like lightning, separating me from everyone. He came from the crag in a chariot pulled by black horses that watched me with glowing, red eyes. They were living dead, with shreds of skin clinging to their bare ribs where fire burned inside. I couldn’t move, couldn’t even scream. I remember how the sunlight caught the obsidian inlaid on his golden chariot and how strange it was that I thought it beautiful.