Chapter 20 #2
I wasn’t a virgin, but I hadn’t been with many men.
Even fewer since moving to Athens. But there was something different about Hades.
Whatever scent he emitted had scrambled my brain into believing in love at first sight.
I blamed it on hormones... or rather, his pheromones.
I was smarter than that. At least, I’d always thought I was.
I blamed Cash and Kytten. Three days of watching them dote on each other. The way he cared for her as though she were the most precious thing in his life. His acceptance of what she and her MC did had me believing Brock would accept what I did.
Sure, they weren’t exactly the same thing, but we both helped women and children escape abusive situations.
Only, my way meant those women and children wouldn’t have to spend their lives constantly looking over their shoulders.
Wouldn’t have to run. Wouldn’t have to hide. Wouldn’t have to be afraid.
Because the monsters were dead.
He called my name as I descended the stairs, and my feet sped up. My hand closed over the handle of my truck as I pulled it open, only to have it slammed shut and my body twirled around. Brock stepped in close. My back pressed against the truck, and I glared up at him.
Neither of us said a word. We stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak first. He thought his hard gaze would intimidate me. Thought I’d crumble under the weight of his attention. He didn’t know I’d faced down monsters and won every fucking time.
“You’re pissed.” He broke first, and I rolled my eyes. I turned my head away from him, but he caught my chin between his thumb and finger, dragging my gaze back to his. “Are you jealous?” he asked, his arrogance only fueling my anger.
Jealous. Like I was some insecure little girl throwing a tantrum because another woman touched her toy.
He leaned in to kiss me, and I pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him back. Hard. The leather of his cut was rough under my palm. Solid. Real. A reminder that this man was dangerous in ways I was only beginning to understand.
I took a deep breath, refusing to acknowledge his question or his statement. Refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt me. That he’d made me feel small and stupid and used.
“Lettie.” His voice broke on my name, anguished and low. Like he actually gave a shit. Like he hadn’t just let another woman put her hands all over him while I watched.
“Why did you invite me here?”
“I told you—”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. The word came out sharp.
Vicious. “Is it because I let you put your hands on me? Inside me? Is that why you don’t respect me?
” I shook my head. I was so fucking stupid.
So goddamn na?ve. Believing his pretty words and his promises and the way he called me his queen like it actually meant something.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I respect you.”
“You don’t invite a woman you respect to a party and let her find you with another woman hanging all over you.
” My voice was rising now. Getting louder.
I didn’t care who heard. Didn’t care who was watching.
“You don’t let some club whore put her hands on you and whisper in your ear and act like she owns you when you’ve already claimed someone else. ”
“Lettie, that’s just how they are. It means nothing. The girls constantly do that shit. We don’t encourage it.”
I stared at him, my mouth dropping open at the sheer audacity. The absolute fucking nerve. “Do you do anything to stop it?”
“What?”
I started counting to ten, but by three, my anger had only climbed higher. Hotter. Sharper. A living thing clawing at my chest. I planted my hands on his chest and shoved him back, catching him off guard. He stumbled. Nearly fell. Good.
As soon as there was enough room, I climbed into my truck and slammed the locks down. The click was satisfying. Final. A barrier between me and the man who’d made me believe I was special.
He pounded on the frame, calling my name and ordering me to unlock the door and talk to him. His voice sounded muffled through the glass. Desperate. Angry. I didn’t care.
I turned the key, and my truck roared to life. The engine rumbled, powerful and reliable, unlike the man standing outside my window. I put it in reverse and backed out of the spot, forcing him to jump back or get run over.
Part of me wished he hadn’t moved.
I sped away without a glance in the rearview mirror. It made no difference whether he stood there watching me disappear or went back inside to the arms of the whore waiting for him. Either way, I was done. Finished. I wouldn’t be played for a fool again.
The drive home passed in a blur. Trees and fields and darkening sky. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white. My jaw ached from clenching my teeth. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Refused to cry over a man who didn’t deserve my tears.
I’d been here before. Standing on the outside looking in. Watching other people get the love and acceptance I craved. Being discarded. Being forgotten. Being used and thrown away like garbage.
Unloved. Unwanted. Disposable.
The trifecta of my existence. The story of my life written in the spaces between other people’s needs and my own desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
But it never was.
And I was a fool for thinking it could be.
Cerberus met me at the door, and I dropped to my knees and buried my face in his fur. Focused on the smell of him—dog and earth and home. Something real. Something that wouldn’t leave me. Something that wouldn’t lie.
I took his face in my hands. “You know I have to change your name now, right?”
He answered with a lick on my face, and I laughed. The sound came out hollow. Broken. But it was something.
I sighed heavily as I replayed the evening’s events in my head, second-guessing everything I did, everything I said, waiting for my head to clear.
Except it never did clear because my heart was breaking and my mind was racing and the darkness inside me whispered that I should have poisoned them all.