Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9)

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Haunting Hephaestus (Gods of Olympus Book 9) Page 12

by Annalise Nixon


  Shit.

  He’d been so focused on her pleasure and capturing every lost second with her, the gallery predicament had slipped his mind. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? It’s not your fault.” She grabbed her tote from the floor and dug out her phone.

  Before she turned it on, he grabbed her hand. “Tonight we need to talk about the gallery and your options. It’s going to be okay.” He felt like such an asshole, but he would make this right. She deserved better. Hell, she deserved better than him, but the only thing he planned to focus on in the foreseeable future was making her happy.

  The distant future? Well, he’d have to take that one day at a time.

  “Crap, I need to go by the gallery.”

  “Not a problem. But your car, it’s at the shop.” He shrugged. “Look, just call me when you’re ready. I’ll swing by, and we’ll pick up the whipped cream and whatever other goodies we need for dinner—and breakfast.”

  “I could chide you about your one-track mind, but hey—that works for me. Could you check to see if anyone worked on my car?”

  “Sure.” Admitting he enjoyed having her low-key need him made him feel like a level-four clinger, but damn if it wasn’t the truth. “Destiny?” She looked amazing, with her wild, untamed curls and trusting eyes. “These last couple of days have been…”

  “Yeah, I agree,” she said, finishing his thought.

  When he told her everything tonight, she’d be pissed, but he hoped like hell she would give him a chance to explain. He wondered how exactly that was supposed to go? ‘Sorry about plotting to ruin your life. You and I were lovers a few centuries ago, and I’ve hated you. But I’m over that now?’

  Sure, that would work.

  “Oh my God. No.” She dug her nails into his arm and whispered, “Please let Beverly be okay.”

  He sped closer, a lump the size of a Hummer growing in his stomach. “Don’t freak out yet.” He couldn’t park directly in front of the store thanks to the Channel 7 news van, three sheriff’s department cars, and all the people milling about.

  Vulcan let out of stream of curses in a variety of languages.

  Before he’d stopped his truck, Destiny had her seatbelt unfastened and her hand on the door. “Damn it, wait.” Thankfully her fingers moved to the handle, gripping it like a lifeline. “Stay there.”

  She stared at him like he’d lost his mind, and maybe he had. Vulcan was pretty sure the commotion had everything to do with him wanting Destiny to himself. Damn it. “I wouldn’t insult you by asking you to calm down, but baby, hold on. Okay?” She nodded, and he hopped out of his truck and was at her side before she changed her mind.

  What he wanted to do was rip the door from its hinges and toss it into the crowd, who’d just noticed their arrival. Oh, this was beyond bad. At least for him.

  Vulcan pulled the door open and caught Destiny as she sprang from the cab, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I promise you this,” he began, cupping her face with his hands and stroking his thumbs along her jaw, “whatever is waiting inside of that building, we’ll deal with this together. Got me?”

  She nodded then covered his hands with hers. “I’m scared.”

  “I know, but you’re not alone. Not anymore. Anyone trying to harm you has to go through me first.” Her grip eased, and he watched her battle the fear. “You may not have noticed, but I’m kind of a bad ass.”

  “I’m okay now.” She turned her face into his palm and kissed it. “I need to handle this alone.”

  “I know, but can I go in there with you anyway?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

  “There she is,” a woman screamed and pointed.

  Just when he thought this couldn’t get any worse. In his mind, they’d walk inside, handle this fiasco in private, and get on with their evening. In reality, Fiona, glared at him from the store’s threshold as she spoke to the two sheriffs standing on the wood planked sidewalk. Hand in hand, Vulcan and Destiny crossed the street, pausing in front of the store.

  “Hey, what’s going—” Destiny began, but was interrupted when her sane friend Janice, and the shop girl, Beverly, collided with her and swallowed her in a storm of arms and tears.

  “Let’s take this inside,” Vulcan said after a couple of minutes. He herded the women off the sidewalk, ignoring the stares, both curious and hostile, from the small crowd of familiar faces.

  Once they were in the gallery, Fiona let lose. “Why the hell didn’t you call us?” she asked before hugging Destiny.

  It would be so easy to hate the woman who disliked him with such intensity, but anyone who would take him on to protect her friend deserved respect—even if it was given grudgingly. For not the first time since they left the cabin, the thought that perhaps the snowstorm had not been a good idea crossed his mind.

  “Vulcan?” Sheriff Woodson, a generally good man, called out as he scratched the back of his neck. The man’s dark face held regret, but he was a professional, and Vulcan didn’t hold it against him.

  “Yeah?” Vulcan answered.

  “We need to take you in for questioning.”

  “Wait, what the hell is going on?” Destiny asked, her gaze flitting between Vulcan and Woodson.

  “What did he do to you?” Fiona asked, stepping in front of her friend.

  “You didn’t expect me to drive home in that weather, did you?”

  “Destiny,” Vulcan called to her. He needed to stop her before the situation worsened. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “What did you do to her?” Janice echoed the question her friend had just asked, but in a high-pitched shrieked.

  This was going downhill fast. He could easily fix the awkward situation, but that would mean risking erasing Destiny’s memories of the last two days along with everyone else’s. Screw easy—he wanted Destiny.

  “Wait a minute. Will everybody just calm the hell down!” Everyone stared at the usually calm Destiny.

  All except Vulcan, who shook his head. Seeing this, Destiny said, “No, I’m not letting them take you to jail.” She looked at Woodson. “When did it become illegal to leave town? Last time I checked, I was well beyond the age of consent.”

  “I got the message that you were going with him,” Fiona said, looking at Vulcan with a glare that rivaled Medusa’s. But her words were meant for Destiny. “But when you didn’t call or return, I thought the worse.”

  “Obviously,” Vulcan muttered.

  “There was nothing more sinister than the combination of a missing signal, crummy weather, and treacherous roads.”

  “What weather?” Janice asked, her voice gentled as if she were talking Destiny off a ledge. She squeezed her friend’s arm. “I think we should take you to the hospital.”

  “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “Sweetheart, unless his cabin is on the outskirts of Juneau, there was no snow. You were obviously drugged or…” Janice swallowed, and moved as if she planned to hug her friend.

  Destiny shook her head and stepped back.

  “Give me a second,” Vulcan said, looking at Woodson, who nodded. If transporting himself and Destiny out of the gallery and back to the cabin wouldn’t have ignited all kinds of conspiracies and forced him to answer questions he wasn’t prepared to, he’d be done with these well-meaning, but annoying people.

  “Back off,” Destiny said, looking at her friends. They nodded but appeared as if they’d go to war with Ares himself to protect her.

  Vulcan walked toward Destiny, who met him in the middle of the gallery, ironically next to a glass heart he’d had delivered yesterday.

  “Not exactly the welcome-back party we expected.” She glanced at Woodson’s partner, whose thumb caressed the butt of his pistol. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. This isn’t on you.” Vulcan wanted to pull her close and show these nitwits this was not a woman who had been drugged, coerced, or forced to spend time with him. But another glance at Officer Tr
igger Happy made him reconsider. If that asshole accidentally shot Destiny, Jackson would wind up like Pompeii. Vulcan kept his hands visible at his sides, leaned down and brushed his lips against his woman’s. “I’ll clear everything up and meet you back here. We have some grocery shopping to do.”

  He sounded confident when he said it, so why did he get the feeling that this shit-storm was just beginning?

  Chapter 18

  “We’re closed.” Destiny stood in what her father called “angry woman position,” —hands on hips and feet spread wide. “If you don’t work here, get out.” She looked pointedly at Fiona and Janice. “And that means everyone.”

  Not only was returning to a fiasco infuriating, but it was embarrassing as well. Destiny was quite aware of her shyness. However, shy did not mean weak. But she’d deal with her friends later—much later.

  “Sheriff, do you need anything from me? A statement?” She didn’t exactly smile, but she tried not to bark at the man who earlier looked like he wanted a reason to shoot Vulcan.

  “Yes, if you don’t mind,” he said as if she had a choice.

  “One minute, please.” Destiny looked at her employee, and right-hand woman, standing behind the counter. “Beverly, thank you for holding down the fort while I was away. If you’d lock the door after these people leave, I’ll only keep you a few minutes.”

  “Got it, boss.”

  “Right this way.” Destiny walked to her office. The sheriff could follow or get the hell out with everyone else.

  When she and the sheriff returned to the gallery thirty minutes later, he almost had her believing she’d been drugged and kidnapped. Had the entire world gone mad? The only thing she could think about was a hot bath with Vulcan and a glass of Monkey Shoulder, her new favorite whiskey. Dealing with Fiona and Janice was nowhere on that list—not tonight. But since they’d decided not to leave, it looked like the conversation would happen sooner than later.

  Destiny unlocked the front door. At least one of her requests had been honored. “Since there has been no crime committed I’ll assume Mr. Vulcan will be immediately released.”

  “No offense, but after that…” the sheriff cleared his throat, “statement, a drug screen might be a good idea.”

  If striking a law enforcement officer wasn’t a crime, she’d punch this one in the face. “You have a good evening.” Destiny barely resisted slamming the door. Not because she didn’t want to be rude, but glass was expensive, and she’d need every dime she had to purchase the gallery.

  Please don’t let it be too late to buy the gallery.

  “Which part did you not understand?” Destiny turned to look at the three women left in the gallery. Beverly appeared embarrassed but expecting her to get rid of the other two wasn’t even close to reasonable. She looked at Fiona and Janice and crossed her arms. “I’ll make it easy for you—leave.”

  “Be mad.” The usually quiet Janice got in her face. “What happened? What did he do to you?”

  “I’ll just be in the office,” Beverly said as she scurried out of the gallery, slamming the door behind her.

  “Nothing happened—I was gone for a couple of days. Okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay.” Fiona added her two cents. “You don’t just up and disappear.”

  “I told you where I was going. If you were that concerned, you could’ve asked one of the pa—” she stopped herself. If Destiny started talking about werewolves, they’d drag her to the hospital. “One of his friends for the address and drove your asses up there.”

  “Yeah, funny that. No one seemed to know about this mysterious cabin.”

  “You’re right.” Destiny exhaled through pursed lips and counted to five. “You know why I can say that so easily? Because he told me as much. Not that no one knew where it was, but that he’d never taken anyone up there.” Okay, that didn’t sound so great. But whatever. “It’s not a crime. Everyone needs to escape occasionally, and right now I can appreciate why.”

  The two women she considered family watched Destiny like she’d lost her mind. She finally lost something else instead—her temper.

  “I can’t freaking believe you two. Am I so pathetic that it’s unfathomable for a man to whisk me off for a fun afternoon?” She clenched her fists and sucked in a deep breath. “Oh no. I’m not done. And I’m also not suffering from Stockholm syndrome. It is what it is.”

  “Okay, let’s take you at your word. What about this mysterious snowstorm?” Fiona asked, making air quotes with her fingers when she asked about the weather.

  “You may not know this, but I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t owe you an explanation. What I need from the two of you is to back the hell up.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Fiona’s face reddened. “You know I only have the two of you.”

  Crap. “Fee, I—”

  “Uh uh, you’re going to fucking listen to every word I have to say. I thought you were dead,” Fiona screamed.

  “I’m so sorry.” Destiny hugged her friend. How could she have been so inconsiderate, especially knowing Fiona’s story. She’d been so wrapped up in her feelings, she’d become that woman. The one who forgets her posse when a new man enters the picture. All that self-righteous anger fled and was replaced with something far more powerful. “Thank you,” Destiny whispered before kissing her friend on the cheek. “Thank you for caring, but I’m a little hurt, “ she said with laughter in her voice.

  “Why?” Fiona asked, pulling back and wiping tears from her eyes.

  “All I get is the locals?” Destiny bit on her lower lip to keep from laughing. “Don’t I rate the FBI?”

  “They hung up on me.” Fiona grimaced.

  “Tell her the rest.” Janice nudged Fiona with her shoulder.

  “It’s not funny. They shouldn’t threaten concerned citizens with arrest.”

  Destiny gasped—then burst out laughing. “Girl, you need help.”

  This time they all laughed. She had to be the luckiest woman on the planet. True friends were rare and precious. Never again would she take their love for granted.

  “Okay, I’m not a fan of the fact that you spent the last two days with Vacuum, but I’m over it.” Fiona crossed her arms and tapped her foot like a schoolmarm. “If you don’t want to discuss the mysterious weather patterns only visible by the two of you, riddle me this—what did you do to occupy the time?”

  “Nope, not discussing it.” Destiny shook her head.

  “Holy shit. He got in those drawers, didn’t he?” Janice executed a double fist pump, along with a hip thrust.

  “Why do you sound like a teenage boy?” Destiny asked, laughing at the usually reasonable woman and wishing she could have recorded the move to create a gif.

  “Because I think that’s what I was in my past life.”

  “I agree. But they took him to jail, guys. This isn’t funny.”

  “He’ll be fine.” Fiona waved her ringed fingers. “You’re alive and he fixes half of their cars. Trust me, he’s probably already on the street scaring people.”

  “Drop it, okay.” Destiny sagged, and her shoulders ached at the thought of the gossip racing around town. What people thought of her wasn’t her problem, as long as it didn’t affect the bottom line.

  “Whatever. But don’t let the big D make you lose your mind.” Janice placed a hand on the center of her chest. Please tell me it was big.”

  “We’re not rehashing the last couple of days, but let’s just say that I have no complaints.” They had no idea, and she planned to keep it that way. “Before you ask any more questions,” Destiny began, ticking off items with her fingers, “it’s not serious, but it’s just going to be the two of us until it no longer works.”

  “I… don’t know what to say.” Fiona nodded, and it sort of looked like an approval.

  “So, guys, if we’re done with the interrogation I have some work to do, and then I need to go get an innocent man out of jail.”

  After an exchange of hugs, and once again locking t
he door, Destiny pressed her hand against the vintage Sturgis rally T-shirt she’d borrowed from Vulcan. Hopefully it wasn’t a favorite, because it probably wouldn’t find its way back to his dresser.

  “Is it safe to come out?” Beverly poked her head out of the office and looked around the now empty gallery.

  “All clear.”

  Beverly walked out of the office, her pretty face red and splotchy. Destiny opened her arms and the young woman ran into them. While she loved the time she spent with Vulcan, the last thing she wanted was to hurt the people who cared about her.

  “It’s okay, Beverly. I’m fine.” Destiny patted her back. “I promise.”

  After Beverly pulled herself together and out of Destiny’s arms, she nodded. “I’m glad you’re not dead. Getting another job or working on my parents’ ranch would suck.”

  “Gee, thanks.” Destiny laughed, and Beverly joined her. “Now that that’s taken care of, did anything else exciting that didn’t involve me, happen the last couple of days?” Destiny eyed the armchair near her desk, but knew if she so much as touched it, her evening would end. “And I really appreciate you stepping up.”

  “How do you know I didn’t just slack off?”

  “With the tattletale twins around, they would have ratted you out to some federal agency.” The image of Fiona getting huffy with a faceless, middle-aged FBI operator made Destiny giggle.

  “Not really, we received a couple pieces, most of which are in the back. I catalogued and took pictures. I deposited the checks and cash, and the credit card receipts are in the pouch on the desk.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “You should be. We were swamped. The good news is we sold quite a bit. Kidnapping is good for the coffers.”

  “Remind me to give you a raise.” Her cellphone rang, and just Destiny’s luck, it was on her desk. “Could you give me a ride to the station? I just have to grab my cell.”

  As Destiny hustled to her office, she created a mental to do list. If she hadn’t been tired before, thinking about catching up on work pretty much did her in. She grabbed the phone off the desk and her stomach did a little twirl at the sight of Vulcan’s number on the screen.

 

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