Page 26 of Hades

My father didn’t flinch. Zeus sat stoic as ever, studying the men who came before us. The men who founded this club, who wrote the bylaws we all lived by.

“Did you know he’d been lying to my mother for the past forty years?”

All four remaining founding members lowered their eyes. It was the only indication they gave us that they knew something. The question was: how much did they fucking know? How deep did the rot go?

Oceanus looked over at Asclepius. “How much did you tell them?”

“Everything I knew,” he answered.

My father inhaled, then spread his hands out over the wooden table as he slowly exhaled. He didn’t look at me. His eyes were firmly on Zeus, studying him, preparing for whatever came next.

“Yes, we knew Kronos was older than he’d told Rhea. We also knew he got her pregnant on purpose. But your father loved your mother.”

“Bullshit,” Zeus snapped, standing up. “Did you know about the Trick Pony?”

I watched my father closely. I knew his tells. Knew when he was lying his ass off, when he was afraid. Hell, I knew when my father was fucking constipated. We were that close.

So when I saw his eyes widen a fraction, relief flooded through me and the tension in my shoulders released immediately. He didn’t know. Whatever Kronos had done at the Trick Pony, my father hadn’t been part of it.

“What the fuck are you talking about, boy? Your father wasn’t involved in the Trick Pony.”

My eyes shifted to the other three men sitting here. Each of them had a son in this room, an heir who took their place when they stepped down five years ago.

Aether was Anders Crane, the former road captain until his son, Hermes, took over when Zeus claimed the presidency. He’d been responsible for planning club rides and mapping routes for shipments, making sure no one got caught.

Pontus was Pearson Hughes. His son, Caishen, took over as treasurer. Caishen was smarter than his old man, and in the five years since the younger generation had been running things, he’d doubled our profits.

Then there was Oceanus, aka Quentin Hayes. His son was Ares, one of the club’s enforcers. Most of us followed in our fathers’ footsteps, but none like Ares.

Where Oceanus had been tough, Ares was deadly on a good day. Brutal, efficient, and completely without mercy. He and his father had a tumultuous relationship. Oceanus had beaten the shit out of Ares as punishment when we were growing up, until Ares got big enough to fight back. Until he’d put his father in the hospital and made it clear the abuse was over.

I used to ask my father why they didn’t stop it. His answer never wavered: “You don’t interfere with another man’s family.” I guessed that was why they never told Rhea the truth. The same reason no one stepped in when my mother disappeared. Family business was sacred, even when it destroyed everyone involved.

Zeus ignored my father’s question. “Did you know about the Brotherhood?”

Oceanus’ fingers twitched against the table. A tell so obvious it might as well have been a confession. The son of a bitch knew. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes locked on the table, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

“Did you know, Pop?” Ares asked, leaning forward, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The kind of sound that promised violence. “Did you know Kronos was Nemesis?”

My father looked over at his friend. “Ocean? What the fuck are they talking about?”

“It was a long time ago. Before your mother, kid,” Oceanus said.

“Only, it wasn’t, was it?” Zeus hissed. “He knew exactly who she was the minute he saw her. He’d watched her grow up.” Zeus slammed his hand on the table, the sound like a gunshot in the enclosed space. “He was a fucking pedophile!”

“Your mother was sixteen,” Oceanus argued. “Hardly a fucking child. Things were different back then.” He paused, his jaw working. “She stayed, didn’t she? Women have a choice to stay or leave. Sometimes we have to make that choice for them.”

“And the others? The young girls he raped at the Trick Pony? The ones who aren’t given a choice? Like Karlyn Ingalls?” Zeus demanded. “She was sixteen years old, and it was only seven fucking years ago!”

Oceanus shrugged.

My father hadn’t said a word. He just stared at his friend while Oceanus and Zeus went back and forth. I didn’t even hear what they were saying anymore; my focus was locked on my father. His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched. Small movements that spoke of barely contained rage.

“Dad?” I stood up from my seat and started moving. “Dad!” I rushed around the table, calling out for Ares to get off his ass. The room became a blur as I tried to stop him. But I was too fucking late.

The gunshot was deafening, the concussion wave hitting my chest, the smell of cordite and burnt powder flooding my nostrils. Oceanus fell out of his seat and hit the floor with a heavy thud, blood spreading out beneath him, dark and thick.

“What the fuck!?” I cried, staring at my father who had just shot one of his best friends. He pointed the gun at Aether. Steady and unwavering, his finger on the trigger.