Descent

by Natasha Knight

  “I said walk away,” he tells me. “Now.”

  I cling, hugging his arm to me. “Walk away with me, Hades.”

  Jonas snorts. “Persephone and Hades. You think you’re some mythical couple? A god? You’re nothing. Nothing but a bastard. And you know what? You can have the whore. Fucking her is like fucking a block of ice.”

  Rage vibrates off Hayden and he gives his arm a powerful shake, sending me flying. I slam against the wall, my breath a whoosh of air forced from my lungs, my head colliding hard. My vision goes black momentarily. At least I think it’s momentary.

  When I open my eyes, I’m on the floor and for a second, I think I’m seeing double but then I realize it’s Ares and he’s between Hayden and Jonas and he’s saying something to Hayden, but I can’t make out words. All I hear is a ringing in my ears.

  I wince when I touch the back of my head and my fingers come away wet. Wet with blood.

  When I look up Hayden is standing over me. A crowd has gathered and they’re all looking down at me.

  Jeremiah Montgomery is there then, and, in my mind, I see Hayden’s scarred back again. He did that to him. He hurt him like that.

  He pushes through the circle of people, takes in the scene as my hearing returns and it’s so loud, it hurts.

  In the confusion, Jonas walks away without a backward glance and Hayden crouches down in front of me. He touches my cheek and he’s saying something, but I can’t make out the words. It doesn’t matter though because he lifts me up in his arms and there are so many people watching.

  He hands me over to Ares. I know because of their dimples. Hayden’s is on his right cheek, Ares’ on his left.

  He’s talking, saying something.

  Hayden takes off his jacket, covers me with it. It’s warm and I smell him, and I close my eyes. A moment later, I’m outside and he’s putting me into a car and we’re driving.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I blink, look up at him. “You’re not Hayden.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “My head hurts.” And as I say it, I feel myself slide down the seat and into his hard shoulder and no matter how I try, I can’t keep my eyes from closing.

  19

  Hayden

  “You’re causing a scene, son.”

  I look to the spot where she was. Her clutch is lying on the floor and there’s a smear of red where her head hit the wall.

  Fuck.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I bend to pick up her bag before turning to face my father.

  “You think I give a fuck what people think?” Even as I say it, people disperse behind him, their whispered murmurs the buzz of vultures. Of bottom-feeders.

  “No, I don’t think you do.”

  I look at my father. I remember how I’d looked at him growing up. When he’d been bigger than me and had no qualms about using his size to intimidate me and worse.

  I see him as he is now. Older, hair whiter, shoulders not quite as broad, hands not quite as threatening.

  I remember the night of the fire. That Halloween that everything changed. Clear as day, I remember the argument I overheard between my father and grandfather, my father telling him he had no right. My grandfather, a formidable man, telling my father it was his own fault for bringing that filth into his home.

  He was talking about Nora. It was the one area my grandfather and I disagreed. He hated her. He hated her from the very beginning even when she was just a little girl.

  Then came the mention of me and Ares. My grandfather telling my father that he was cut out. That when he died, my brother and I would inherit everything.

  My father had lost his shit, had threatened him. They’d argued a little longer, and when my grandfather dismissed him, my father walked out. I hid in the shadows and although I know he saw me, he kept walking.

  I walked out too after that. Out to that chapel where I found the three of them, Jonas, Nora and Persephone.

  “You took your brother’s fiancée? You can fuck any woman you want, and you take her?”

  “Ex-fiancée. She left him months ago.”

  “As you can see, there’s still love between them. You have no right to her.”

  “Love between them?” I snort. “Knowing you like I do I can actually see how you’d think that.”

  “You’ve always been a cocky asshole, you know that? You beating women now too?” my father asks, gesturing to the bloody spot on the wall.

  I narrow my eyes and feel my body tense. My hands fist. I force myself to breathe, to keep control.

  “Like you beat children?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Is that what you and grandfather were fighting about the night of the fire? The night he died?”

  My father falters but only momentarily. But that moment, it’s what I need.

  “He was changing his will. He was leaving it all to me and Ares,” I say.

  “Did you have your ear to the door?”

  “I didn’t need to. You were both screaming.”

  “If you knew him, you wouldn’t saint him.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  His eyes narrow and he opens his mouth just as a gong sounds, signaling the call to dinner and the senator’s speech.

  “Maybe one day I’ll tell you. Hell, you deserve to know the kind of man he was.”

  “You mean now that he’s not here to defend himself against your lies?”

  My father’s eye twitches. He lifts his head a little higher, looking down his nose at me. “You should go. You don’t belong here.”

  Why does that sting? “I wasn’t planning on staying, but I have something for you first.”

  I reach into my pocket, taking out the envelope, the reason I came. I relax a little at the sight of it and slap it against my father’s chest.

  “Choke on this, old man.” I lean toward him. “You’re finished.”

  He looks down at it, his face falling a little when I pull my hand away and the envelope drops to the floor, the senator’s name clear on it. I’m sure he can guess what’s inside.

  “Enjoy your evening,” I say, and I walk out before he can speak another word.

  20

  Hayden

  I take a cab to the club. It’s a busy night, but entertainment on weekends always draws a big crowd.

  Peter greets me at the door and takes my coat and Persephone’s which was still at coat check.

  “My brother?”

  “Upstairs. Doctor Allen is up there too.”

  I nod, make my way to the elevator. A few men call out my name, but I don’t stop, punching in my code instead so the elevator comes directly down wherever it is. I get in and start my ascent to the thirteenth floor.

  I’d imagined tonight going differently. I’d thought I’d enjoy it. Enjoy seeing their faces as we approached the table, taking our seats. I thought I’d savor the moment Senator Hughes thanked his biggest donors and mentioned his plans for the city, the revitalizing of neighborhoods, the building of hotels.

  And mostly, I’d enjoy the fact that my father’s name wouldn’t be mentioned once.

  But instead, I walk into my office to find Ares pouring himself a whiskey. He pours a second for me when he sees me.

  “Where is she?”

  “Your room.”

  I nod, sip my drink and study the closed door between my office and living quarters. The thirteenth floor is my domain. I live and work here.

  “How is she?” I ask Ares who I can feel is studying me from the bar as I lean against my desk. I have to drag my gaze from the door to him.

  “She’ll be fine. Doctor’s talking to her now.”

  “Is she hurt?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so, but she’ll have a bump on her head.”

  “Fuck.”

  “It’s not like you hit her.”

  “No, but I’m the reason she hit her head against that wall.”

  “Why in hell do you let that little prick get to you?”

>   “He had his hands on her.” I swallow my drink, feel it burn its way down my throat before moving to the bar to pick up the bottle and pour another.

  “They have history. I’m sure he doesn’t love the fact that his brother—whom he hates—is fucking his ex-fiancée.”

  “That’s the thing.”

  “What’s the thing?” Ares asks.

  “She was a virgin.”

  He raises his eyebrows, sips his drink. “They’re all virgins once.”

  “I mean with me. So, he never touched her. But they were engaged. I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe Jonas is more old-fashioned than we think.”

  I shake my head. “She’s weird about him.”

  “You’re her ex-fiancée’s brother. That’s what’s weird.”

  But I remember what she said to him that I overheard. I know what you did. I want to change the subject. “Find out anything on the mafia connection?”

  “Benedetti and Abbot were going into business together.”

  “What?”

  “Benedetti approached him about permits for some new properties in the city a couple of years ago. Abbot turned him down, because you know, holier than thou Quincy Abbot.”

  “Hypocrite.” I swallow more of my whiskey.

  “Well, looks like about a year ago, Abbot had a change of heart.”

  “A year?”

  Ares nods. “About the time you began the dismantling of Abbot Enterprises, I believe.”

  It is. “And Benedetti got the permits?”

  “More than that. They partnered. But that’s not public knowledge. There was a sizeable donation made to Abbot’s re-election campaign. I believe you mentioned it the other night. Benedetti bought him.”

  “So, what happened? Why the hit-and-run? Seems pretty counterintuitive to kill or attempt to kill the senator you’ve got in your pocket.”

  “You’re assuming it was Benedetti and you know what they say about assuming.” Ares finishes his drink just as the door between the office and my private rooms opens and Dr. Allen walks out.

  “Dr. Allen. Thank you for coming,” I say, shaking his hand.

  “Of course, Hayden.”

  “How is she?”

  “Sleeping. She’ll be fine. Just a bump on her head. I don’t believe she has a concussion, but it may be good for you to keep an eye on her tonight. I’ll come back in the morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  When he leaves, I head through the office and into my living room. Ares follows and I open the bedroom door to see her sleeping on my bed.

  “I hurt her.”

  “It was an accident.” He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to go.”

  I turn to him. “Where does Benedetti stand now with the building?”

  “Construction was halted after the accident.”

  “You and I both know it wasn’t an accident.”

  “It’s not a mob hit, though. Makes no sense that it would be. At least not a Benedetti hit.”

  “I need one more favor, Ares.”

  “You’re going to owe me big at this rate.”

  “Get me a meeting with Benedetti.”

  He seems surprised. “You sure you want to be involved with him?”

  “I already am. I control Abbot Enterprises.”

  Ares chuckles. “How does she feel about that?”

  “Don’t worry about her.”

  “I’ll arrange it. Hope you know what you’re doing.” With that he leaves, and I walk into the bedroom.

  21

  Persephone

  “You and I both know it wasn’t an accident.”

  I hear them, but I’m not sure it isn’t a dream.

  Benedetti. That name again. What had Hayden said? Mafia. Why would they make a donation to my dad’s campaign? Why had he accepted it?

  No, it’s a mistake. It has to be.

  I hear water running and when I roll onto my side his scent is all around me, like I’m wrapped up in his arms.

  Then I remember how he slammed me into the wall with one of those arms.

  It was an accident, I know. I was trying to pry him from Jonas before he killed him because if he ever found out what Jonas did, he would kill him.

  A door closes and again, I’m not sure if I’m dreaming but I feel myself drift off. I don’t fight it. It’s pitch black. It must be the middle of the night.

  The next time I blink my eyes open, it’s not as dark. I see the nightstand, the glass of water.

  Unfamiliar.

  But then I remember. I’m at the club. Ares brought me to Hayden’s club. I didn’t know there was a whole apartment behind one of the doors of his office, but I know I’m in Hayden’s bedroom. In his bed. And I remember there was a doctor.

  I move and the blanket shifts and I find that I’m naked but for my panties. Who undressed me?

  I pull myself to a seat, hold the blanket to my chest until the wave of dizziness passes.

  Although it’s still dark in the room, there’s a sliver of deep orange light penetrating the slats of the wooden blinds covering the windows.

  Ice clinks in a glass and I shudder, remembering that night in my father’s room. Remembering Hayden sitting there in the dark waiting for me.

  He’s here now, too. I feel him.

  And as my eyes adjust, I make out his form.

  Déjà vu.

  He’s sitting in an armchair drinking his whiskey and his eyes are locked on me. Watching me. He’s always watching.

  I remain still and we stare at each other for a minute. I wonder how long he was standing there when Jonas had me cornered. Wonder how much he heard.

  Wordlessly he rises. He’s still wearing his tuxedo shirt, unbuttoned to the middle of his chest. The bowtie is gone, and when he takes a clumsy step toward the bed, I look down and see that he’s barefoot.

  He comes to stand beside the bed, sips his whiskey then holds it out to me.

  I shake my head.

  “Do you have anything with him?” he asks.

  “What?”

  “Jonas. Do you have anything with him?”

  I think he’s drunk. He’s slurring his words.

  “What time is it?”

  He leans down. “Tell me.”

  I shake my head. “No. Nothing. Why would you even ask that?”

  He straightens, nods his head and finishes his drink.

  “What time is it?” I ask again.

  “Morning.”

  “I’ve been out all night?”

  He nods.

  I absently go to scratch the back of my head and wince when I feel the bump there.

  “I did that,” Hayden says.

  “It was an accident, Hayden.” He doesn’t comment. He looks tired, weary. “Did you sleep? Have you been up all night?”

  “You’re going to get hurt again,” he says, not answering me. He walks away, toward the dresser where I see the nearly empty bottle of whiskey. Where I watch him pour clumsily, splashing some on the dresser. He turns to sit back down on the armchair.

  “Have you been drinking all night?”

  He sips from his glass, eyes on me. “You said something. You said you know what he did. What did Jonas do?”

  I shift my gaze, hoping he can’t read me in the darkness. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “The important question is what were you and Jonas talking about?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know. He was drunk or stoned or both. He was making no sense.”

  “What did he do, Persephone? You have something on him.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  It’s silent for a long moment. “Were you going to leave with him?”

  “Leave with him? No. Never.”

  “But you were going to leave.”

  I lean back against his headboard and hug the blanket a little closer. I feel strangely safe here. Warm and protected.

  “Answer me,” Hayden says, drawing me back into the presen
t.

  “I was looking for you to tell you. You were right, the champagne had gotten to me.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Persephone.”

  I study him, but there are too many shadows to read his eyes. “I didn’t want to see him. I thought it would be awkward and I was right.”

  “What I witnessed wasn’t awkward, it was two people who share a secret. A big one.”

  “No, it wasn’t. He and I share nothing. I told him to get away from me, to leave me alone and when he wouldn’t, I tried to knee him in the balls to make him, but he was faster than me and he attacked. That’s when you came upon us. And thank goodness you did.”

  He sets his whiskey aside and stands up. “I would have killed him if he’d hurt you.”

  He gets to the bed and pulls the blanket away, exposing most of me. I instinctively cover my breasts and watch him look me over before he meets my eyes again.

  “But it wasn’t him who hurt you. It was me.”

  “I’m fine. It was an accident.”

  My mind drifts, remembering other voices from earlier. “You and I both know it wasn’t an accident.”

  I rub my forehead, trying to make sense of the words as they fade again.

  Hayden extends his arm, draws the corner of my panties down a little, then looks at me again. “You’re mine. You know that, don’t you?”

  I get up onto my knees, put my hands on his shoulders. I kiss his cheek, his mouth. I taste whiskey on his lips and feel the rough stubble along his jaw and all the while he remains like a statue, unblinking. Watching me.

  I slide my hand down over the expanse of exposed chest to undo the remaining buttons, pulling his shirt open. I open his belt next, then the zipper on his slacks. But when I slip my hand inside to cup him, he grabs hold of my wrist.

  “You said ‘I know what you did’. What did he do?”

  I feel the smooth skin of his thick, hard cock. I keep my eyes locked on his and move my fingers, even though he has my wrist. With my other hand, I push his pants down.

  “You heard wrong,” I lie.

  I kiss him again and he weaves his big hand into my hair, cupping my skull and releasing my wrist.

  He kisses me hard, claiming my mouth with his, then draws me backward, studying me for a long moment before pushing my head downward, down to him.