Descent

by Natasha Knight

  “Wait.”

  I stop.

  She looks beyond me, shakes her head as if having an internal conversation with herself. Her forehead furrows and it takes her a long time to speak. “I’m telling you the truth about Jonas and me.”

  “You never fucked.”

  She rubs her forehead, her hand trembling when she does. When she looks back at me, I don’t see anger. What I see is fear. And desperation.

  “Are you going to ask me to prove it next?” her voice falters, trembles like her hand.

  “I could check…” I start because I can’t resist.

  “You know what? Fuck you!” She’s on her feet so fast she almost knocks her chair over. “Just fuck you, Hayden Montgomery!” She bends to pick up her bag, takes a step away then changes her mind and turns back to me. “When I first met you that day on the curb, you know what I thought?”

  It takes me a moment to follow her train of thought. She means when I’d found her and Nora with that broken doll.

  “What?” I ask. I shouldn’t care what she thought but I do. Always have.

  “I thought you were going to be my hero. Hades come to steal me away from my wicked stepmother.”

  “You’re mixing up your fairytales.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean.”

  She holds my gaze and all I can think is how those eyes used to look at me and all that talk about used goods, it doesn’t matter. Never did. Not with her.

  But her revelation changes things.

  Changes the past.

  “Sit down,” I tell her.

  “And then there was the other time.”

  Every muscle in my body coils at the memory of that other time. “I said sit.”

  She sits. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “But I was wrong.”

  “That’s one thing we can agree on. You were wrong.”

  She suddenly looks so tired and I’m not surprised. She’s carrying the bulk of the burden of her father’s situation, not to mention the financial consequences, on her shoulders.

  And then there’s what I’m doing.

  “Yeah, I was wrong. And now, I’m desperate and you know it.” She swallows. Those unshed tears must be burning her eyes.

  “Are you putting yourself on the table?” I ask because I cannot and will not let those tears sway me.

  “Is that what you want?”

  “Let’s be very clear. You own this. Answer my question.”

  “I have no choice.”

  “Don’t play the fucking victim, Persephone. That’s weak. And it’s not who you are.” We study one another for a long minute before I speak. “At least not who you were. You have a choice. Always. Now answer my question but think carefully first. I’m not playing games.”

  She takes a long minute to answer and I know that some part of her knew she’d use this today, she’d bargain with this one thing, even if she couldn’t consciously acknowledge it.

  And I can see it’s easier to paint me as the villain. Make me the man who took her to his bed against her will. But fuck that.

  “Yes,” she finally says.

  I nod. Stand. “You’ll have a new contract today.”

  Her eyes grow infinitesimally wider like she can’t believe this is actually happening.

  “Go home. I’ll be in touch,” I say.

  “Is that my dismissal?” she almost recovers, that cool arrogance back.

  “I don’t think you’re one to be dismissed.”

  She bites her lip and can’t hold my gaze. She pushes her chair back and takes a deep breath in.

  She stands and busies herself with something inside her bag and I think she’s talking herself into not crying. Not here. Not in front of me.

  Without a goodbye, she turns to leave.

  “He stole her away simply because he wanted her,” I call out before she’s taken two steps away.

  She stops.

  “Not to save her from anything,” I finish.

  She turns back to me, studies me with those shimmering jewel-eyes. “You forget one thing,” she finally says.

  “What’s that?”

  “Hades loved Persephone.”

  3

  Persephone

  Hades loved Persephone.

  I am an idiot. And a masochist to be considering making a deal like this with that man.

  My drive home is a blur. I take in the Montgomery house as I turn into our driveway. I remember when it was beautiful. Since the fire, it’s almost as though the earth around it has come to life. Like it’s determined to take back what it believes belongs to it.

  The Montgomery and the Abbot families share a cul-de-sac. Two massive mansions bound together but seemingly set apart from the rest of the world.

  I push the button and the gates slide open. I see my stepmother, Irina’s, car parked at the front door. My father’s nurse, Celia, is here too. Her older model Honda looks out of place in this neighborhood.

  I pull into my usual spot and climb out, hugging my coat to myself. I take a moment to look at the darkening sky. They’re predicting snow. Several feet of it.

  Movement catches my eye at the Montgomery ruin but when I turn to look, I see nothing. No one.

  Maybe it’s Nora or her grandfather.

  They died within days of each other. He in the fire that destroyed the house, she in the chapel by her own hand.

  I shake off the chill that accompanies the thought. They’ve been dead for five years and there’s no such thing as ghosts.

  It’s what I tell myself every time I think I see something.

  I wonder where Hayden is staying. Maybe at his club?

  Hayden’s grandfather had left him the building when he’d passed away. That was one of the things that had turned father against son in an already tenuous relationship. Hayden’s father, Jeremiah, had believed it his right to inherit the dilapidated building along with the rest of the Montgomery fortune, which was built on real estate, much like the Abbot fortune. My father was the third of the Abbots to add politics to his résumé.

  Hayden was Jeremiah’s first-born. Jeremiah was a senior in high school, his sweetheart a sophomore. She’d gotten pregnant and given birth to Hayden and his twin brother, Ares, just before she turned seventeen, and then she’d disappeared. Word was that she and her parents were paid off by Hayden’s grandfather to leave town without the boys and it made sense because Hayden’s grandfather took them in.

  Jeremiah met and married Carry, Jonas’s mother, when he was closer to thirty. He formally adopted Jonas, who was only a year younger than Hayden, giving him the Montgomery name. They adopted Nora soon after that.

  The Montgomery house belonged to Hayden’s grandfather and he lived in the house with Jeremiah and his new wife and family. I remember how intimidating the older Mr. Montgomery was. How scary I always thought him, especially given the stories Nora told me.

  I was sixteen when Hayden’s grandfather passed away in the fire that Halloween night, two days before my father found Nora at the chapel. I remember my parents discussing it at the dinner table weeks later. Remember the rumors my stepmother never tired of recycling about my dead best friend.

  Strange how similar mine and Hayden’s stories are. We both have our wicked stepmothers. But my father never turned against me. And I love my half-sister.

  Jonas and Hayden hate each other with a passion. Ares, the few times I’ve had contact with him, seemed better able to handle his father than Hayden ever did.

  The front door of the house opens, and I watch Celia step outside. Irina is behind her, cigarette in her hand. She’s still in a robe and looks a little worse for wear after the party. She watches me from the front door. I want to talk to Celia before she leaves.

  “Celia,” I say, walking quickly toward her. The temperature seems to have dropped since earlier this morning and a cool wind has picked up.

  She smiles to me. “Percy, I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”

  “How is he?”

  She g
ives me that usual sort of sad look that says I’m denying the truth. “He’s the same.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?”

  “Sure. Listen,” she glances back at the house. “The cigarettes…she shouldn’t smoke inside and certainly not in his room.”

  “She’s smoking in his bedroom?” God. What is wrong with her?

  Celia unlocks the car door. “I tried to tell her.”

  “I’m sure she was very receptive. I’ll talk to her.”

  She puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t, Percy. It’ll just upset you. And it doesn’t matter. It's good you decided to move him. You’re making the right decision.”

  “Move him?” I’m confused.

  “Yes. That’s what I was told at least. We’ll be back later this afternoon.” She looks up at the sky. “Before the blizzard, I hope.”

  “I’m sorry, what? Who told you we’re moving him?”

  She looks at me strangely.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” I continue. “And I want to be close. Besides, I can’t afford—” I stop.

  Hayden.

  My breathing becomes harder as my hands fist.

  “Listen, I’ll be honest with you. It’s better for your father to be in a facility. It’s better for everyone.”

  I can’t hear her right now, though. How dare he?

  She checks her watch. “I need to go. I’m late for my next patient. I’ll see you later today. I’m coming back to help.”

  I nod because I can’t speak.

  “It’ll be okay. You’ll see.” She gives me a hug and I realize how much I miss the warmth of another person.

  When she’s gone, I turn to climb the stairs to the front door which Irina closes before I get there.

  I enter the big house and unbutton my coat. It’s cool inside, although warmer than out there.

  “Irina,” I call out, following the waft of cigarette smoke up the stairs to her room.

  I knock when I get to her door and open it when she doesn’t reply. I find two open suitcases on the bed and a maid folding clothes into them.

  Irina walks out of the closet carrying a smaller Louis Vuitton case.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  She hands the case off to the maid and turns to me, taking a drag on her cigarette.

  “I’m going on a trip. Should make you happy.”

  “Trip where?”

  “Florida.”

  “Florida? Why?” She only goes to Florida to visit her plastic surgeon.

  “Because I hate snow.” The cigarette is down to a stub and she puts it out in the already full ashtray on the nightstand beside the bed.

  All her furniture is still here. She refused to give anything up. I wonder how my father could stand her. She’s the most selfish woman I know. But maybe he couldn’t. They haven’t shared a bedroom in years, and I did the math. She was pregnant with Lizzie when they got married.

  “We can’t afford any procedures. You do realize that?”

  “It’s not coming out of your tight wallet, Percy.”

  “Then whose?”

  She grins. “Hayden Montgomery.” She gives me a once over and I read the hate in her eyes. “I wonder what you did for him to have been so generous with me.”

  I open my mouth to tell her off but stop. If Hayden wants to pay to send her away, fine. I’m not going to argue that. That’s between them. And she can think whatever she wants about me.

  “What about Lizzie?” I ask.

  “What about her?”

  “You can’t take her with you. She’s got to go to school.”

  “Oh,” she chuckles. “I’m not taking her with me. She’s all yours. You always did think you knew best with my daughter.”

  I don’t argue. It’s true.

  “Now you can deal with her. If you don’t mind, my flight leaves in two hours.”

  “And dad?”

  She walks up to me, gives me a wicked grin, takes my shoulders and squeezes hard. “He’s a vegetable. Face it, Percy.” Her stale coffee and cigarette breath make me nauseous.

  “Well,” I tell her, stepping backward. “I won’t keep you.” I turn to walk away but when I get to the door, she calls out my name and I stop.

  “He’ll bring you down a notch, you know.”

  I don’t turn to face her.

  “Like you deserve.”

  “Have a good trip, Irina.” I walk out the door, refusing to engage. She spews poison. It’s her special gift in life. I go to my father’s room and am surprised to find it freezing as I approach. When I enter, I see Lizzie closing the window.

  “Why is it so cold in here?” I ask, going to my father, pulling another blanket up over him.

  Lizzie shakes her head and turns to me. “Mom said she wanted to air it out. Hide the fact that she was smoking in here is more like it,” she says, looking at dad. “I turned the heating up. It’ll warm up fast.” Apart from this room, Lizzie’s room and, of course, Irina’s room, the house is cold. We can’t even afford to heat the place anymore.

  “Thanks Lizzie.” I study my half-sister. She looks more like her mom than our dad, but she has his bright-blue eyes. “How are you doing?”

  She shrugs a shoulder and turns to me, pulling the sleeves of her sweater into her hands and wrapping her arms around herself.

  I think how much older than fifteen the makeup makes her look but, in her eyes, I see a little girl. A sad, scared little girl.

  “I’m fine. Happy she’s leaving.”

  I’m sure she’d be happier to have Irina be a real mother to her. “Why aren’t you at school by the way?”

  “Canceled. Snow.”

  “Already?”

  “Yeah. I’m spending the night at Marigold’s.” Marigold lives closer to their school. “I’ll go over for dinner.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean with school—”

  “You’re not my mother, Percy,” she snaps and walks to the door.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “I’ll take the bus so you can stay with dad.”

  “I can drive you.”

  She shakes her head and stops, turns to me. “It’s fine.” She shifts her gaze over my shoulder to our father and I see how her eyes glisten with tears. “He knows we’re here, right?”

  “He knows. I’m sure of it.” I’m not.

  She walks out of the room without another word.

  4

  Persephone

  Having changed into an old, worn hoodie and yoga pants, I’m on my way downstairs searching for a number for the club to find out what’s going on with my father when the doorbell rings.

  I check the time. Sotheby’s is sending trucks to pick up the antique dining and living room sets today, but they’re not scheduled to come until late afternoon. I wonder if it’s the snow that’s got them out here early.

  But when I get to the door, I don’t see a truck. Instead, a man in a suit is standing at the front door. He looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t know from where and I wonder if I shouldn’t have left the gate open.

  I open the door and he stands up taller.

  “Yes?” I ask. “Can I help you?”

  He holds out a large black envelope with the letters HM embossed in decorative gold at the center.

  “Ah,” I look up at the man again and I remember. “You work at the club.” He’s the one who’d let me in this morning.

  “Yes, Ms. Abbot. Mr. Montgomery sent this. He said you’d know what it is.”

  “He didn’t waste any time, did he? I was just searching for his phone number.”

  “You’ll find what you need inside. I need to get back.” With that, he turns and begins his return to his car which I can see now is parked along the curb.

  “Wait. I need to get in touch with Hade—Mr. Montgomery.”

  “He’s left instructions.”

  Before I can get another word in, he’s gone and I’m standing in the doorway holding the ominous black envelope.


  I glance over at the Montgomery house next door, thinking how beautiful it once was. I shake my head, closing the door behind me. Walking inside, I go straight to my father’s study. Since the accident, I’ve taken it over. I sit behind the desk and open the envelope, take out the single sheet inside.

  In the few minutes it takes me to read it, I feel my ears burn with growing rage.

  “No wonder it didn’t take him long to draw this up,” I say out loud, turning it over, looking for a phone number. When I don’t find one, I peer inside the envelope for a card but it’s empty.

  His instructions, however, are clear, and the reality of what I did—our conversation from this morning—slams me in the face.

  This new contract gives him exclusive rights over me, my time, and my person in any capacity he chooses. I am to submit to his commands and make myself available for his pleasure.

  For his pleasure!

  In exchange, I will be given the right to live rent-free in my own home as Mr. Montgomery’s guest.

  “How generous, you fucking asshole.”

  The doorbell rings again.

  I get up, fist the contract in my hand, assuming it’ll be the same man who just delivered this. But when I get to the door, I find two men from Sotheby’s standing outside. The shorter one is holding a clipboard and smiling at me.

  “Ms. Abbot?”

  “Yes, you’re from Sotheby’s,” I say, my mind on that idiotic contract. He wants me to be his whore in exchange for living as his guest in my house! “Come in.”

  “We’re here to pick up the dining and living room sets and—”

  “It’s fine. Just…I need to do something.”

  “If you can show us where the things are, we can take care of it.”

  Lizzie appears at the top of the stairs. I look at her, see how her face falls at the sight of the men here to take our things. This isn’t their first trip out here. I’d left her room as intact as possible, but we’ll need to sell everything.

  Unless I sign the contract in my hand.

  “Lizzie, I need to go. Can you help these men?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Into town.”

  “But I told Marigold I’d be there by five. I don’t want to be late.”