Page 49 of Hades

“Bullshit.” His grip tightened on her shoulders. “What happened?”

She ignored his question. “I need a place to crash for a few days. Just until I figure some things out.”

“What things?”

“Oscar.”

“What. Things,” he demanded. He’d always been soft when it came to Alex. At least when she wasn’t around. He made excuses for her behavior, blaming their parents’ death for the fact that he let her get away with too much shit. She manipulated him. Used his guilt against him. And he let her because he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her too.

She glanced at Zeus and said quietly, “Can we talk about this inside? Please?”

“Inside. Now.” He turned to Zeus. “Prez?”

Zeus studied her for a long moment, his expression blank. Calculating. Weighing the threat she represented against the loyalty he owed Poseidon. Then he nodded. “Church. Ten minutes.”

“Zeus, I’m not asking for club business,” she rushed out. “I just need a place to stay. A few days, that’s all.”

“You’re Poseidon’s sister,” Zeus said, his voice calm and measured. “That makes you club business. Church. Ten minutes.” He turned and walked back toward the clubhouse, Atlas and me behind him.

There went my fucking date. I didn’t even get her number to let her know why I wasn’t coming back. There was almost no chance I wouldn’t be stuck in church all night. Alex showing up out of nowhere didn’t bode well. She was a walking disaster. A liability wrapped in a pretty package. And we’d all pay the price for whatever shit she’d brought to our door.

My mind drifted to Lettie. To the way she’d looked at me when I kissed her. The way her body responded to my touch. The way she came apart in my arms. She’d be waiting for me tonight. Getting ready. Choosing what to wear. Maybe touching herself while she thought about what I’d do to her.

And I wouldn’t show up.

Fuck.

By the time Alex walked out of church, she’d fed us a whole lot of bullshit and nothing else. A story about a bad breakup and needing a place to lick her wounds. Poseidon and the others followed her out, leaving only Zeus and me behind.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I think she’s fucking lying. Par for the course with Alex.”

“You can’t throw her to the wolves,” I reminded him.

“I know.” He ran his hands over his face. “All this bullshit with Reggie, and now Alex—it isn’t leaving much time to dig into my father.”

I held my tongue. What I wanted to tell him was that digging into Kronos was a waste of time. The man was dead. His secrets were buried with him. But Zeus needed this. Needed to understand who his father really was. Needed to reconcile the hero he’d worshipped with the monster he’d become.

Thanks to Ares, Oceanus had confirmed he knew about Kronos’ time with the Brotherhood. He swore he didn’t know shit about the Trick Pony or Karlyn Ingalls, despite his son treating him like any other prisoner we questioned.

Ares hadn’t held back. Years of abuse had built up inside him, and having the person who’d made him suffer his entire childhood right there in front of him was a gift not many would pass up. He’d beaten his father until the old man’s heart gave out, then wiped the blood from his hands and walked out of the cell without a word.

He refused to talk to anyone about it, insisting he was fine. Not even Apollo could get him to open up. The son of a bitch had even tried to use his paralysis to guilt our brother into talking.

It hadn’t worked.

Zeus ordered everyone, including Apollo, to leave him be. Ares would talk when he was ready. Or he wouldn’t. Either way, we’d deal with it.

The church door opened, and Rhea stepped in. “Was that Alex?”

“Yeah.” Zeus sighed and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Why did she come home?”

When Zeus didn’t answer, I did. “She claims she needs a place to land and lick her wounds from a breakup.”

Rhea looked at her son. “You don’t believe her, Zeus?”