Chapter 14 #2
"Tempest took them for ice cream. Said they needed some brother time." His voice is carefully controlled, but I can see the rage building in his dark eyes. "Who did this to you?"
"Ethan."
"When?"
"Just now. Maybe ten minutes ago."
He's across the bathroom in two steps, his hands hovering just shy of touching my face, like he's afraid he might hurt me.
"Let me see," he says gently.
I turn to face him, and his jaw tightens as he studies the damage. The split lip, the bruising cheek, the marks on my wrist.
"Did he..." He can't finish the question.
"Just what you see. He grabbed my wrist, I slapped him, he hit me back."
"You fought back."
"For the first time in my life."
Something proud and fierce flickers in his expression. "Good girl."
The simple praise makes tears threaten. When was the last time someone was proud of me for standing up for myself instead of criticizing me for being difficult?
"I need to call the police," I say, but even as I say it, I know it's not that simple. Ethan has connections, resources—the kind of influence that makes problems disappear.
"No."
"Hades—"
"No police. Not yet."
"He assaulted me."
"And he'll pay for it. But not through official channels."
There's something in his voice, something dark and promising, that makes me look at him more closely. This isn't just anger at seeing me hurt. This is something deeper, more calculated.
"What aren't you telling me?" I ask.
"Nothing that matters right now. Right now, all that matters is making sure you're okay."
He reaches toward my cheek.
I flinch. Not because it’s him.
He freezes, hand hovering.
“Only if it’s okay.”
I swallow hard and nod.
Then he touches me, like he’s afraid I might break.
"This is going to swell," he says quietly. "We need to get some ice on it."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not, and that's okay. You don't have to be fine right now."
The permission to not be okay, to not hold everything together, breaks something open in my chest. Tears start falling, and once they start, I can't make them stop.
"Hey," Hades says softly, pulling me into his arms. "It's okay. You're safe now."
"He threatened the kids," I sob against his chest. "He said he'd hurt them if I don't go back to him."
His arms tighten around me, and I can feel the tension in his body, the barely leashed violence. "He's never going to hurt you again. Any of you. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
"The hell I can't."
The fierce certainty in his voice settles something panicked in my chest. For the first time since Ethan left, I feel like I can breathe again.
"I was so stupid," I whisper. "I spent years with him, and I never saw what he really was."
"You saw what he wanted you to see. That's not the same thing as being stupid."
"I should have known."
"How? Men like him are experts at hiding their true nature until they don't get their way."
His hands stroke through my hair, and I let myself sink into the comfort he's offering. This is what safety feels like. Not control disguised as protection, but genuine care without conditions.
"Come on," he says after a while. "Let's get some ice on that bruise."
He leads me to the kitchen, settles me at the island, and wraps ice in a dish towel with the kind of practiced efficiency that makes me wonder if he's done this before.
"Here," he says, gently pressing the ice to my cheek. "Better?"
"Better."
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, him holding the ice pack, me letting myself be taken care of for the first time in longer than I can remember.
"Hades?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm scared."
"I know."
"Not just of Ethan. Of everything. Of making the wrong choices, of putting the kids at risk, of wanting something I shouldn't want."
"What do you want, Angel?"
The question is quiet, serious, loaded with everything we haven't said to each other.
"You," I whisper. "I want you. Even though it's complicated and messy and probably going to cause more problems."
"Then have me."
"It's not that simple."
"It is exactly that simple."
His free hand finds mine, fingers intertwining, and I'm struck by how right it feels. How easy it would be to just say yes, to stop fighting what we both want.
"What if it doesn't work? What if we try and it falls apart and I lose you too?"
"Then we'll figure it out. But, Angel, you can't live your life being afraid of what might go wrong. Sometimes you have to take the risk."
"Even with the kids involved?"
"Especially with the kids involved. They deserve to see you happy. They deserve a home where love exists instead of just duty and obligation."
He's right, and part of me knows it. But the fear is still there, the voice that whispers I'm being selfish, that I'm putting my own wants before what's best for everyone else.
"I don't know how to do this," I admit. "How to be with someone without losing myself."
"You don't lose yourself with the right person. You find yourself."
The ice pack slips from his hand as he reaches up to cup my uninjured cheek. His touch is gentle, reverent, everything Ethan's wasn't.
"Let me take care of you," he says quietly. "Not because you can't take care of yourself, but because I want to. Because taking care of the people I love is what makes me feel human."
"The people you love?"
"The person I love."
The confession hangs between us, simple and profound and absolutely terrifying. He loves me. Not the idea of me, not what I could become with the right improvements, but me exactly as I am.
I look at him. He’s my safety. The ache that fills my stomach.
“I…” I swallow. “I love you.”
It still hurts to say it. But it’s true. And right now, truth is the only thing that feels real.
"Then let me love you back. Let me show you what it's supposed to feel like."
Instead of answering, I lean forward and kiss him. Gentle, careful of my split lip, but full of everything I can't find words for.
When we break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
"Let me stay tonight," he says. "You and the kids. I don't want you alone after what happened."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes. I'm tired of being afraid, tired of fighting what I want. If you'll have me, complications and all, then yes."
His smile is brilliant, transformative. "Angel, I'll take you any way I can get you."
Later, after the kids are home and fed and settled in front of a movie, I find myself curled up against Hades on the couch. My cheek is still throbbing, my lip is still swollen, but I feel more at peace than I have in months.
"Thank you," I murmur against his chest.
"For what?"
"For seeing me. For not trying to change me. For making me feel like I'm worth fighting for."
"You are worth fighting for. Worth everything."
I drift off to sleep in his arms, feeling safer than I have since this whole nightmare started. Tomorrow there will be decisions to make, conversations to have, a future to figure out.
But tonight, I'm exactly where I belong.
In the arms of the man who loves me enough to let me be myself.