Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
I’d done my best to act normal, to seem cheerful, but my smile was weak, and my hand shook as I iced the cake I was making for Natasha’s son’s birthday. I’d wanted to abandon the cake, run up to Hades and demand to know what was wrong, but I knew that would come off desperate and insane. I also wanted to pretend that I was imagining things, that it had nothing to do with me, and if I finished this cake, gave him time, everything would be okay.
I finished the cake.
Everything was not okay. Even Sirius, who followed Hades everywhere the second he entered the house, knew something was wrong and was tucked up in his bed in the corner of the room, staring at the man in the Sons of Templar cut chain smoking on the patio.
My steps were unsteady as I made my way toward him. I hadn’t wanted to go there, to him. Something in me told me something very bad was going to happen when I made it there. That it was going to hurt. But it was impossible not to go to him. Hades was a magnet, and I was drawn to him whenever we were in the same room. It was impossible for me not to gravitate toward him, not to touch him.
He didn’t look at me when I stopped beside him, just a couple of feet away. We might as well have been a fucking ocean apart. He didn’t put his smoke out like he normally did whenever I was near. Nor did he hook his palms around my waist and drag me to his body like he also usually did when I was near but not near enough. He just continued smoking, continued staring off.
I supposed I could’ve said something. Asked him what was wrong. I would have in a different world, with a different man. So I didn’t speak. I just watched him, my heart in my throat, my fingers and toes numb.
Finally, he finished his smoke, leaning forward to snub it out in the rose quartz ashtray I’d bought especially for him. He emptied it every day without me saying a word. It had had one butt in it from this morning since Hades was trying to slow down. Now it was full.
“It’s done.”
I blinked at him. His breath smelled like cigarettes and whisky. A lot of it. His eyes were clear, and he hadn’t stumbled when he’d walked through the house. Hades drank beer and whisky. Wine with me sometimes. But I’d never seen him drink in excess. I’d also never seen him kill anyone, yet I knew he did that semi-regularly.
He could’ve been drinking more than usual because he’d just come from the club party. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like he’d been trying to drown something, numb something.
“What’s done?” I asked, hating how much my voice quaked.
“The asshole.”
I didn’t need to ask him to clarify; the asshole could only mean one guy. The guy who beat the shit out of me, the guy who had inadvertently played cupid between me and my biker. But I had the sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to be my biker for much longer.
“It’s done meaning...” I was pretty sure I knew what he meant, but I was walking on eggshells.
“Meaning he’s dead,” he said flatly.
I flinched. It didn’t affect him. Not outwardly, at least.
I’d known this was going to happen. I’d done my best not to think about it and when I had, I’d felt vaguely sick about the entire situation. Strangely, hearing about it right now, knowing that it was done, I felt ... nothing. I felt nothing regarding the death of the guy I used to sleep with at the hands of the guy I was currently sleeping with. The guy I currently loved and would always love.
“He’s been dead for two months.”
Now I felt something. I stared at Hades, gaped at him, actually. His expression was as blank as his voice.
“Two months?”
He nodded, staring out at the desert in order to avoid my eyes. He eventually turned to face me, to really look at me. I flinched again at what I saw in his eyes. Rather at what I didn’t see in his eyes. The man he’d shown me since he’d fucked me in that dressing room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Then I saw a flicker. It was small, but it was there. “Because I didn’t want to leave you.”
I frowned. “Why would you have to leave me after you told me?”
His eyes widened ever so slightly. “Why?”
I nodded.
“Because the only reason I’m fuckin’ here is because you think I’m protecting you from a guy who’s been dead for two goddamn months,” he hissed.
His words knocked the wind out of me. So much so that I took a step back.