Chapter 26 Hades
Hades
I press my satellite phone against my ear with one hand. With the other, I rub the bridge of my nose.
“It can’t be helped,” Ares is explaining.
“Any ship’s captain that comes to him with proof that we’ve contacted him can earn double what we’re paying.
All thanks to Constantine.” He gives a little growl.
“I think we have really fucked up by kidnapping Constantine’s ex, Hades.
Every single time I try to do something sneaky, I turn around and find Constantine has already been there, throwing his money around. ”
My temple throbs. I stand at the window of my father’s study and peer out the window, trying to think.
“Asshole,” I mutter. “I hate fucking bullies. And Constantine is the ultimate bully.”
Ares gives a snarl. “Look, Hades. I know that ye and I regularly disagree on how things ought to be run— “
“Only because I insist on thinking things through rather than just punching the first guy standing near my goal,” I interject dryly.
“That’s not the point, ye fucking cad. The point is that we made a mistake, but we might be able to fix it.”
I squint, not liking the sound of that. “And just what are ye proposing?”
He takes a deep breath. “Maybe if we just tied up the girl and dropped her on Constantine’s doorstep, he would let us get on with our lives instead of… of cock blocking us at every fucking turn!”
I grimace. “Yer saying that ye want to give into him? That’s not how ye beat a bully, Ares.”
“No one cares about yer vendetta!” Ares explodes. “So, he’s a bully! Who the fuck cares? I just want to be able to keep operating without being mired in all this shit that Constantine keeps throwing at our feet! We can’t afford to get buried in it forever!”
“I don’t care,” I tell him, struggling to keep my tone even.
He waits a few beats. “This is about the girl, isn’t it? Yer finally fucking her and ye are getting attached. Ye can find another girl to fuck, Hades— “
“Fuck off,” I snarl.
“We dinnae have any alternatives here!” he yells. “We have a lot of big guns and ammo sitting in the port in Tunisia. We have to move them— “
I cut him off. “Call me when ye’ve figured out another solution.”
Then I hang up, gritting my teeth. Looking out the window, I try to think.
Is Ares right?
No. I can’t just let a bully operate as normal. Especially not one that is after Penny.
Clenching my fists, I wonder what her connection is with this madman. I know that he tried to kill her and that she’s terrified of him… but I don’t know any of the details.
Maybe it is time that I find out the entire story. Straightening my cuffs, I head to find her. After ten minutes of searching, I find a note.
H —
Went to the beach.
Persephone
It’s written in her cartoonish chicken scratch handwriting. I would have thought that an artist would have very neat handwriting, or an elegantly looping cursive hand. But her note makes some part of my stomach flip flop, churning uncertainly.
Why I’m so weak around Penny, I don’t know. Especially here, in my father’s house, I should remember to be better.
Have I learned nothing from watching my mother and father?
Still, I take a moment to tuck the note into my wallet before proceeding down to the shore. At the closest spot where the heather and tall grass give way to a short, sandy shore, I find Penny.
She seems lost in thought, a tiny figure dressed in a black dress and oversized sweater. The wind blows, a steady cool stream coming straight off the Atlantic. Penny’s dark hair is a creature apart from her, whipping around her head and infused with life.
She turns when I am a dozen feet away, startling and blotting at her eyes. Her face is mottled from crying.
My footsteps slow and I tilt my head, puzzled. Women are emotional, fickle creatures. But this is the first time I have experienced one of them crying alone. In my view, they only ever cry because it brings drama. It’s a tool they can use to manipulate men with, nothing else.
And yet, Penny stiffens as I approach. She turns back to look at the writhing, crashing water. As I draw level with her, I see a flush creep into her cheeks. She pretends that she was not crying, clearing her throat casually.
“Hades,” she says by way of greeting. Squinting out across the waves, she avoids my curious gaze.
I stop an arm’s length from her body. She shivers and draws her sweater tighter around her body. I read that as a cue to put my arm around her, offering her the heat of my body.
But she flinches when I get close. She studies me through her slightly puffy eyes.
“I came out here to be alone,” she says. Her tone is soft, but the rebuke is still there.
I drop my arm, trying to figure out her mood. She doesn’t seem withdrawn. Rather, she just comes off as a bit sad and deadened.
“And why is that?” I ask, after staring at her for a moment.
She pulls a face and looks out over the sea, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I had a bad dream.”
I cock my head. “Bad enough to chase ye out of the house?”
She nods slowly, absorbed in her thoughts. “Yes. I had the same nightmare I always do.”
I wait for her to offer more. When she doesn’t, I sigh. “And that is?”
Penny sniffs, darting a glance at me. “I dreamt about the night that Constantine tried to kill me.” She sucks in a hissed breath. “I think he thought I was dead. And until I saw him in Monaco, I thought I had done a good job of living off the grid.”
My brows rise. “That’s why ye were living in the middle of nowhere? I hate to tell ye this, Penny, but I got yer name and address without much digging. If I was able to find ye with so little trouble, I doubt ye were ever truly hidden.”
“Yes, well.” She shoots me a little glare. “We’ll never know now.”
She turns and starts walking up toward the house, her steps wooden and slow as molasses. I follow, perplexed.
“I dinnae understand. What happened between ye two? Ye said that he tried to kill ye, but…”
She considers me for a moment as she starts wading into the long grass, leaving the beach behind.
“It’s a long story.”
I raise my hands, looking around. “Do we have something better to talk about?”
Penny cuts me with her hazel gaze. She is quiet for a moment, her eyes veering away from me entirely.
“We met when I was only fifteen. My parents are a somewhat successful artist and a local politician. My father is not just my father… he’s also married.”
“To yer mother,” I clarify.
She shakes her head. “No. He’s married to a New Orleans socialite.
He also has made it clear from the get go that we are his second family.
His secret. He lives a separate life from us.
It isn’t so much that he is embarrassed of us, I guess…
. my mom says that he’s just busy. Doing important things, being the man that he needs everyone to believe he is. ”
I squint, trying to keep up with her narrative. “He sounds like a bastard.”
“He’s just… complicated.” She wrinkles her nose.
“I promise, I’m getting to Constantine. You see, my brother and I were…
” She pauses, stops walking. “I don’t like to say neglected.
We had enough money. We had our mom around, some of the time.
But we grew up…” Pain lurks in the shadows of her expressive face.
“Let’s just say that when I met Constantine, I was looking for someone that would lavish me with attention.
Constantine was friends with my mom, and he could tell, somehow, that I had this…
” She scrunches up her face. “I don’t know, this need to be seen, I guess.
A hole in my heart. And Constantine was good at that.
He started showing up, bringing me expensive gifts, offering to take me places.
And my mom just… let him. She encouraged the relationship.
I was only sixteen and having the attention of an older man was everything I thought I wanted. ”
“Sixteen? God, that’s young,” I say, being careful with my words.
“Yeah. I was such a fresh-faced little idiot. So stupid and naive.” Her expression turns sour. “I started running with him and his crew. Moved in with him at sixteen. Met my best friend Maddie, who was dating one of the guys that ran with Constantine. It just spiraled out of control from there.”
“What do you mean?”
“Constantine was an addict. Cocaine, mainly. He started doing risky things just to pay for his habit.” Penny shakes her head.
“Selling drugs, at first. Then guns. Soon, it was selling big loads of weapons to sketchy guys overseas.” She looks down at her feet.
“I should’ve left the first time he raised his hand to me.
Or the second… Or the fucking tenth. But… ”
She shrugs.
“Constantine hit ye?” I ask, my voice hard. The idea of someone as delicate and sweet being harmed by someone I already fucking loathe makes bile rise in my throat. I try to control the rage that surges up inside me, making my chest feel like it’s going to burst.
She nods, still looking at the ground.
“Eventually, I went to art school part time. And he took Maddie as a second girlfriend. I found out about them one night when we were at a party in Gulf Shores. The house was way up on these craggy rocks with the ocean beach just below. He… he did a bunch of coke, so much that I was sure he would overdose. And then he… he hit Maddie.” Tears shine in her eyes.
“I lost my cool and threw a book at his head. Which is when he started chasing us.”
She turns abruptly, walking quickly toward the house. I can hear her sniffing, but I hurry to catch up with her, grabbing her wrist and turning her around.
Big, fat tears roll down her face. Penny tugs at her hand, but I refuse to let her go.
“Tell me the rest,” I demand, my eyes searching her face. “He started chasing ye and…”
She wipes away tears. “It was dark. Constantine was out of his mind on blow. He chased us to the edge of a cliff. Maddie could have even been an accident, maybe…” She stops, sucking in a breath and shaking her head.
“Once she ran off the cliff though, he knew. We both stared down at Maddie’s body, lying still in the wet sand below.
But then he came for me. I begged him not to…
And he pushed me off anyway.” She shakes her head, fighting off a sob.
“I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up days later in the hospital.
There was no sign of Constantine. No sign of my parents, either.
Just Lawrence.” She raises her right hand, clenching it into a fist. “I couldn’t talk.
Couldn’t walk. I was so freaking scared, and I didn’t really have anyone to tell me it was going to be okay.
” Her expression turns bitter. “The doctors said my brain had gotten damaged. And that I would probably always have some paralysis on my right side.”
She flexes her fingers weakly, as if demonstrating the paralysis. I study her for a moment, my mouth twisting.
I think of the embrace she gave me a few days ago. Comforting, as much as anything can be after such trauma.
Swallowing, I hold my hand out, silently asking for her to put her injured hand in mine. Penny hesitates, pinning me with a questioning gaze.
“Trust me,” I whisper.
And after a moment?
She slips her hand into mine. I step closer, pressing her knuckles against my lips. The breath leaves her body in a shudder as I slowly turn her wrist and place a solid, warm kiss on her freezing cold palm.
Her tears fall freely, but she makes no move to stop them. She just looks at me, her expression unfathomable.
“I do,” she says crisply. “I do trust you, even though I think you are a villain.”
Her words strike a chord in me. I gather her in my arms, warming her against my body.
And then I tilt her chin up, angling it just so for my kiss. When I lower my lips to hers, it is perfect.
Hot, hard, demanding. Her fingers curl in my shirt as she pulls me closer, pressing up on her tiptoes. I use my tongue to sweep her sweet mouth, pulling and pushing against hers.
When Penny gasps, I surprise her by picking her up, throwing her over my shoulder, and heading back toward the house in a hurry.