Page 61 of Hades

She opened the screen door and called Cerberus. The moment he trotted off to follow her, I moved forward. Fast. Predatory. Closing the distance before she could lock me out.

I reached the stairs and took a step, only to hear the front door slam shut and the unmistakable click of the deadbolt sliding into place.

The rejection should have pissed me off. Should have made me want to kick the door down and drag her out by her hair. Instead, I grinned. She was making me work for it. Making me prove I was serious. That I wasn’t going anywhere.

I sat down on the porch steps and sent Zeus a text letting him know I wouldn’t be back tonight. He replied with a picture of a pussy, and I grinned. No doubt the image belonged to Isis. The delusional bitch who thought she’d ever be more than a warm hole for his dick.

I checked in with Poseidon and settled in for a long night. My arms rested against the step behind me, and I watched the sun set over the horizon for the first time in I didn’t know how fucking long.

The sky bled orange and red and purple. Beautiful and violent. Like her. Like us.

I’d sit here all fucking night if I had to. All week. All month. However long it took for her to understand that I wasn’t leaving. That she was mine now. That I’d fucked up, but I’d spend the rest of my life making it right.

My queen could make me wait. Could make me suffer. Could make me grovel and beg and bleed.

But she couldn’t make me leave.

She was mine, and I was keeping her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lettie

I opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch to watch the sunrise. I missed the morning talks with Cash and Kytten. It amazed me how three or four days were all it took to form a bond, a friendship.

It only proved just how lonely I was.

Brock had shown up yesterday after a week of radio silence. No messages, no phone calls, not even a carrier pigeon to clue me in on why he’d ghosted me. His excuse about club shit getting in the way? Not good enough.

With all those men and women at the clubhouse, someone could’ve delivered a message. But I doubt I even crossed his mind.

I lifted my cup to my lips and closed my eyes as the sweet taste of coffee washed over my tongue. The warmth spread through my chest, settling low in my belly. Comfort. Routine. The things that kept me sane when everything else felt like chaos.

“Think I could get some of that?”

I choked on my coffee, barely managing to avoid spilling the hot drink all over my shirt. My arms jerked out as the coffee sloshed over the sides. The liquid burned my hand.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, dabbing at my chin and wiping away the drops I’d spilled. My heart slammed against my ribs. Hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make breathing difficult.

“Waiting to talk to you.”

He moved closer, his eyes darting around. No doubt searching for Cerberus. His shoulders relaxed when he realized we were alone, and he sat down on the steps beside me. The heat of his body radiated against my side. Too close. Not close enough. My skin prickled with awareness, every nerve ending suddenly alive and screaming.

“I’m sorry, Lettie. I didn’t plan on things going to shit when I went back to the clubhouse.”

I stared out over my gardens, my mind cataloging which plant I could slip into his coffee that would do the most harm without actually killing him. Aconite would make his heart race before it stopped. Hemlock would paralyze him slowly, letting him feel every moment of his body shutting down. Belladonna would make him hallucinate before the seizures started.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to kill him. Part of me did. The dark, vicious part that lived in my chest and whispered murder when people hurt me. But I’d lived in Athens long enough to know that the Gods of Mayhem wouldn’t take kindly to having their vice president assassinated.

Even if he was an asshole who deserved it.

The back of his finger grazed my thigh, and I jerked my leg away, glaring at him. Heat flooded my body from that simple touch. Traitorous. Weak. I scooted over, creating more distance between us, but he just followed. At that moment, I cursed myself for leaving Cerberus inside the house.

On one side, the railing dug into my hip. On the other, Brock pressed close, his thigh burning against mine through the thin fabric of my skirt. Apparently, he hadn’t gotten the message.

“When I told you to go home, it wasn’t meant to be for the night.”

“I didn’t go home.”