44. Scott
CHAPTER 44
Scott
T hey make me strip. Trembling and sobbing about what I’ve done, I pull my clothes off and drop them in Ares’s garbage bag. Shoes, boxers, the whole lot.
I’m ushered into one of the guest room showers, and instructed on what to do to clean myself from head to toe.
I know that fucker isn’t dead, though the temptation to keep railing on him until he stopped moving was hugely alluring for a hot minute.
As soon as someone finds him, he’s going to call the cops, and then I’m going to fucking jail. At least if I shower his blood off me, I’ll be going in clean, right?
Shit.
What the hell did I do?
I stand under the hot water as it washes away the outward signs of what I did. It’s not even so much the senseless violence, because what else could I call it? It’s the fact I did exactly what she asked me not to.
She’s going to lose her shit at me. She’s going to leave me because I did the one thing she asked me not to, and beat the shit out of her rapist.
Thoughts spiral in my head, and I know what I need to do. I need to confess my sins to the police. I need to take the rap for what I did, do my time, and move on.
Athena deserves someone who can keep their patience and not lash out at someone with their fists.
I’d never hurt her. Not ever. But I can’t promise I won’t ever hurt someone who hurts her. And maybe that’s her line not to come back from. Maybe that’s the one thing she needs from me that I can’t give to her.
I dry off, put the towel into a bag that Ares gave to me—he’s like a regular CSI right now—and throw on some clean clothes they left out for me.
When I step into the living room, they’re all staring at me, poised, like animals ready to pounce.
“You’re not turning yourself in.”
I look at their shoes by the door since mine are in a bag only God knows where. I could run for it, but my body aches, it’s heavy and tired.
Their faces are firm, resolved, and Ares looks like he’s going to punch me if I try to push back.
“I don’t deserve this.”
Ares holds his hand up. “Para. Just don’t bother. You’re part of the family. You have been since you met the twins. Now you’re with Athena, that only solidifies something that already existed.”
He rakes his hair with speared fingers. “You took the hit for the family. Now it’s the family’s turn to protect you.”
My shoulders sag. “I should be sitting in a jail cell.”
“So should he.” It’s Artemis’s low growl who speaks next. “You’re a million times better than they are, Scott. And don’t forget that.”
Except I’m not. I’m a thug now too.
“We’re handling it, okay?” Apollo’s voice of reason cuts through the tension.
“None of this matters if it’s crossed a line with her.”
Ares shakes his head. “We’ll keep it from her.”
I can’t believe he’s offering to lie to his sister for me. It makes me want to cry and slap him.
“No. I’m telling her what I did, and if she doesn’t want to be with me because of it, then that’s it. But I’m not lying to her. And if the cops come calling at my door, I’ll tell them the tru… What the fuck?”
The more I stare at Apollo’s face the more I realize he’s got bruising on his jaw and a small cut above his eye.
“Pollo, what the hell happened to your face.”
He gestures at my knuckles. “You did, hermano. We got a little carried away with some bare-knuckle fighting.” He shrugs like he’s a fucking genius, but there’s no way it’s this easy.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
He smirks. “Haven’t we all? Trust us, hermano. You don’t deserve to rot in prison for doing something any red-blooded human with half a brain cell would have done too.”
Their words bring little comfort, because the only person I need to know is okay with what I’ve done is in the room down the hall. And until I hear from her, well, it feels like I’m a dead man walking.