Chapter 20
Hades
The events of the day start to catch up to me as I’m walking back to my quarters in the residential building.
I unlock the door to enter the studio apartment and spot Willow and Evie sitting at the desk in the corner.
When neither of them acknowledges my presence, I clear my throat several times to get their attention.
Evie glances over her shoulder, and I know that look well.
“How was church?” she asks.
“Fine,” I reply as I stride across the room to see what they’re up to. “What’s going on?”
Willow’s eyes are lit with excitement, and she points to a notebook. “We’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?” I ask suspiciously.
Evie stands to pace. “Well…”
“We’ve been brainstorming how to get you exonerated,” Willow says when Evie falls silent.
I arch a brow. “Oh?”
“Yeah. I talked to Gordon, and he wan—”
“Who the fuck is Gordon?” I bark.
“Oh, calm your tits,” Evie gripes. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
Willow snaps her head in my sister’s direction. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“For him,” Evie begins, pointing at me. “Everything.”
I stare at Willow as I say, “Munchkin, can you give us a minute?”
The little twerp stomps her foot like a petulant child. “You want me to leave right when things are about to get good?”
I point at the door. “Out. Now.”
Evie huffs indignantly. “Fine. Play nice, Hades. I like her.”
With that, she storms out the door, letting it slam shut behind her.
“Why’d you make her leave?” Willow asks when we’re alone.
I sit in the chair Evie vacated. “Who. Is. Gordon?”
“He’s my boss at PWCC.”
“And you spoke to him?”
Willow grins. “I did. He was glad to learn that I’m safe, but more than that, he wants to help you.”
“So, he knows you’re here?”
She worries her bottom lip for a moment. “That I’m here specifically, no. I figured that I probably shouldn’t tell him you escaped from prison in the same conversation that I’m pleading your innocence.”
Shock has my brows shooting up. “What did you tell him?”
“Well, I said that I was attacked during the riot, which he already knew about from Bryant, and explained that I was in the hospital, where I’ll be for a while due to my injuries.
” She must sense my surprise because she tacks on, “I’m not a complete idiot, Hades.
I want to have your conviction vacated, not hasten your death. ”
“Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles, seemingly proud of herself.
“This does create a slight problem, though,” I admit, and her face falls. “See, we just sent a text to your parents demanding they speak to us at noon tomorrow if they ever want to see you again.”
I brace myself for her wrath, but again, she surprises me.
“Oh.” A soft snort escapes past her lips. “Oh my God.” Her face splits into a giant smile seconds before she breaks out in a full belly laugh. “Oh, damn.”
Staring at her, something in my chest shifts and settles. Even with a split lip and bruised cheek, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Some might say my attraction is due to having been locked up for so long, and those people can shove a giant corkscrew up their ass.
Evie is stunning, with her curly blonde hair, dark green eyes, and small, pointy nose. Her body is incredible, whether completely bare or tucked neatly into the blue blazer and jeans she’d been wearing earlier.
As I continue to stare, my mind recalls the letters she’s written over the years.
There was nothing of any major importance in them.
Mostly, they were short missives about boring, mundane things, but I always got the sense that they were real and honest, that the person writing them was pure and good.
“Hades?” Willow prompts once she calms down.
“Huh?”
“What’re you thinking?” she asks.
Not wanting to divulge my inner thoughts to her, I stand and grab her hand to tug her to her feet. “How ‘bout I give you a tour of the property?”
She narrows her eyes at me, all earlier humor gone. “We’re gonna have to talk at some point.”
“We will,” I assure her. “Just… not yet.”
Eventually giving in, Willow lets me lead her through the residential building. I point out each brother’s studio apartment to her and properly introduce her to Levins when we reach his. When she first sees him, she goes rigid but quickly relaxes when I promise her that he’s one of the good guys.
“What’s in there?” Willow asks once we’re outside.
I follow her line of sight and grin wickedly when my eyes land on The Factory. “That, Princess, is a building you will never see the inside of.”
She peers up at me. “Yet it’s a building that you clearly enjoy.”
“I do.”
“Let me guess… It’s a torture chamber where you skin your victims while they beg for their lives and then you roast them on a spit for all to see once they’re dead.”
Unable to stop it, my mouth gapes open.
“Wait,” she says, digging in her heels. “Was I right?”
“Close enough,” I mutter, not sure how to feel about her accuracy. “We don’t skin them alive, although the idea does have possibilities. And there is no roasting spit.”
“I was kidding,” she shrieks with a look of horror.
“Never claimed to be a good man,” I say with a shrug.
“I also thought you weren’t a murderer.”
“If I told you that I only kill people who deserve it, would that help?” I ask hopefully, choosing to ignore the fact that her opinion matters to me.
“I…” Her shoulders slump. “It can’t hurt, I guess. Define ‘deserve it’ though.”
I lock eyes with her as I respond, needing her to know that I’m deadly serious. “When we find K.C. and Bones, two of your attackers, they will be taking a trip to The Factory, and I’m going to enjoy every single goddamn second I spend with them in there.”
Willow appears to consider my words before jerking a nod. “Fair enough.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like the fact that the club does illegal shit is any big secret, and I’d be lying if I said the idea of torturing those two doesn’t hold some sort of sick, twisted appeal.
Besides, I’ve had a lifetime of judgmental attitudes, and I refuse to perpetuate the cycle.
” I open my mouth to speak, but she continues.
“And I’m a firm believer that people are more than their actions.
Good people can do bad things without it making them bad.
On the flip side, bad people can do good things, and it doesn’t automatically make them good. ”
“That’s very… mature.”
She trills a laugh. “My father would probably call it delusional, but whatever.”
“You’re not close with your father?”
“We’re just very different people. I love him, don’t get me wrong. It's just that my parents and I see the world through different lenses. They choose to focus on the negative, and I need to find the positive.”
“Makes sense since he’s a prosecutor.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Willow shakes her head. “I hope you don’t expect them to play ball with you. My dad’s probably fuming that I didn’t follow his orders, which means he won’t be in any hurry to save me.”
“Do you need saving?”
“No, I don’t think so. But you want him to think I do, right? For your plan to work?”
“It would definitely make things easier, but it’s not necessary, no.”
“I guess time will tell.” Straightening, she smiles, and it no longer reaches her eyes. “Are you gonna show me the rest of the place or what?”
“C’mon, Princess, let’s go.”
I lead her toward the clubhouse, and we walk in silence. The closer we get, the louder the music from inside can be heard, and that seems to cheer her up because her eyes brighten.
“I love this song!” she exclaims when we step inside.
“Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry blares through the speakers, and the common room is alive with activity.
Leaning down and brushing my lips against the shell of her ear, I say, “I’m guessing Daddy wouldn’t approve.”
“Not even a little bit,” she confirms.
We cross the room to the stereo system, and when the song begins to fade, I turn the music off.
“Hey, everyone!” I shout. “This is Willow, and she’s going to be staying here for a while. I expect you to treat her with the respect she deserves.” She tucks her face into my side, and I realize I’ve embarrassed her. How adorable. “Oh, and she’s off fucking limits.”
“But not to you,” Boa teases.
“Aw, Pres has staked his claim,” Chains taunts.
“Big brother bites the dust,” Evie adds.
“Fuck off, all of ya,” I yell, guiding Willow to the bar. “Sorry ‘bout that. They can be assholes sometimes.”
Her cheeks are enflamed, and I have to tamp down my rage when I catch sight of her bruise. She’s had enough shit today and doesn’t need my temper added to the pile.
“What can I get ya?” Sonny, a prospect I met earlier, asks while I help Willow onto a stool.
“I’ll take a Yuengling, and she’ll have…” I glance at Willow for an answer.
“I don’t suppose you’ve got any white wine.”
“Actually,” Sonny begins. “We do. Some of the club whores like it occasionally."
“Yuengling and white wine,” I reiterate.
“Coming right up.” The prospect smiles at Willow. “I’m Sonny, by the way,” he tells her.
“Willow,” she responds.
“Beer and wine, prospect,” I snap.
“I’ll take a tequila shot,” a woman says as she comes to stand next to Willow, facing me. “Thanks, prospect.”
“You got it, Sasha,” Sonny says, turning to get our drinks.
“Hi, I’m Sasha,” she says, stepping into me and flattening her palm against my chest. “I hear it’s been a while since you’ve been… satisfied.”
There was a time when club whores could easily get me to take them to my room for a quick fuck. And if I’m being honest, that would’ve been the first thing I would’ve done when I got back to the clubhouse if it weren’t for the beauty sitting quietly on the stool behind this bitch.
I swipe her hands away. “Not interested.”
Sasha glances over her shoulder at Willow, who’s still in the sweats and t-shirt I gave her, and scoffs. “Surely you don’t think that little Miss Frumpy Pants is going to be able to take care of you.”
At the insult, Willow rears back as if struck before hopping off the stool and running out of the clubhouse. Every part of me wants to chase her, and I will, but first, this cunt needs to be put in her place.
Taking in Sasha’s Botox inflated lips, unnaturally straight nose, caked on makeup, fake tits, fake blood-red nails, and barely covered legs, I glower. “Sasha, is it?”
“Yes,” she says, her tone breathy.
“You’ve got ten minutes to pack your shit and get the fuck off my property,” I snarl as I search the room for my enforcer. “Butcher!” I yell when I spot him.
He’s engrossed in a make-out session with another club whore, but he quickly pushes her away and strides over to me. “What’s up, Pres?”
“Escort Sasha to her room to get her crap, and then to the gates. Make sure she leaves because if I see her face again, she’ll be taking a vacation at The Factory.”
“You can’t do this,” Sasha shrieks as Butcher grabs her arm and drags her toward the door. “I’m the best bitch in this place. You’ll see. You’re gonna fuck that frumpy pussy and realize what a mistake you made in kicking me out. You’ll be begging me to come back!”
“Shut the hell up,” Butcher snarls right before the door closes, and they’re out of sight.
“Uh, here’s your drinks, Hades,” Sonny says, causing me to face him.
“Thanks.” I take them from him, downing Sasha’s shot of Tequila and savoring the burn.
After slamming the empty glass onto the bar top, I whirl around, lift Willow’s glass of white wine, and carry that and my beer out of the clubhouse. I’m guessing she went back to my place, so that’s where I go.
I make it to the hallway outside my apartment and spot her sitting on the floor with her back against the door. She’s quietly crying, her face buried in her hands.
“Why’d you run away?” I ask when I reach her.
Willow sniffs before looking up at me from beneath her wet lashes. She swipes at the tears and wipes her nose on the sleeve of the borrowed t-shirt.
“Go back to the clubhouse,” she says, her voice wobbly. “Sasha’s right. She can take care of you.”
Sighing, I lean against the wall and slide down to sit next to her. “Willow, look at me,” I order.
Lifting her head, she peers at me. “What?”
“Sasha was right about one thing and one thing only.”
“What’s that?” she asks hesitantly.
“It’s been too damn long since I’ve been with a woman.”
“Oh.”
“Every other word out of her mouth was bullshit.” Reaching out, I stroke her cheek, and her eyes involuntarily fall closed for the briefest of moments.
“For starters, there’s not a frumpy thing about you.
You could be wearing a garbage bag, and you’d still be beautiful.
” I set our drinks on the floor and pull her into my lap.
“Second, there’s not a single thing she could’ve done to satisfy me.
She was about as fake as a chick can get while you, Princess, are all real. ”
Willow lets her head fall back onto my shoulder. “You really have to stop calling me that.”
“Never,” I whisper and then continue. “Finally, and the point that I think really struck a nerve with you is this… Are you listening?”
“Mmm,” she hums.
“I have zero doubt that you could satisfy me in ways I never thought possible.”
That statement yanks her out of her blissful calm, and she scrambles to her feet. “No, I couldn’t.”
Her tone about breaks me. It’s like she wants my words to be true more than she wants her next breath, and at the same time, she’s absolutely certain that they’ll never be true.
I stand, leaving our drinks on the floor, and grip her chin. “Why do you think that?”
“Because,” she cries, her eyes filling with tears again. “I’m… I’m a virgin.”