40. Presley
Presley
The words hang in the air between us.
The decision is mine to make.
Hades doesn’t move. He just stands across the room, waiting.
I stare at the man I've spent weeks trying to understand.
The man who watched me through my windows before I even knew his name.
Who terrified me from the woods. Who bought Penny a Halloween sweater.
The one who chased me through a bookstore wearing a mask.
Who sat beside me while I talked about Grandma.
Who learned everything I told him and stole the things I didn't. Who murdered his stepfather because he decided the man deserved to die.
And apparently, that same terrifying man is now waiting for me to decide whether he gets to remain in my life.
Jesus Christ. My dating history really took a fucking turn.
I lower myself onto the battered couch because my legs suddenly don't feel reliable.
Hades stays where he is.
That bothers me.
Which is ridiculous.
If he comes closer, I'll probably tell him to back up.
Because he doesn't, I want to ask why the hell he's standing all the way over there.
Apparently, I'm impossible.
Penny would be disappointed in me.
Actually, she’d be disappointed Hades hasn't provided her with another sweater.
I press my palms against my thighs. “Did Wilder know you were going to kill him?”
Hades's expression changes slightly. “No.”
“He just helped you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Something almost like amusement moves through his smoky-gray eyes. “You met my brother.”
“That’s not an explanation.”
His expression sobers. “Because he knew what Grant did to us.”
I swallow. “And because you're his brother.”
“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. “After Dad died, I became his protector. The one who looked out for him when no one else did.”
I think about Wilder sitting across from me at Bramble & Bean.
I’ve been doing stupid shit because Hades asked me to for most of my life.
Apparently, wearing a Halloween mask and getting chased through Hollow Creek doesn't even crack the top ten.
“Was Wilder mad?”
“At me?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Not even for dragging him into covering up a murder?”
“He didn't see it that way.”
“How did he see it?”
Hades is quiet for a moment.
“Like I finally did what both of us had wanted to do for years.”
My stomach twists. There's something so horrible about that sentence. Not because I think Grant deserved sympathy. He didn’t. But two boys grew into men imagining a world where the person who hurt them simply stopped existing. And then one of them made it happen.
I look toward the romance novel on the table.
Of all the things in this cabin, that's somehow the one that makes my chest hurt the most.
He kept it.
The ridiculous stalker romance I recommended before I knew I was talking to my own stalker.
God. My life is absurd.
“Why Hollow Creek?”
Hades shifts his weight. “Needed somewhere to go.”
“After the fire?”
He nods.
“You and Wilder just... left?”
“There wasn't anything left for us there.” His voice is flat.
Nothing left.
I rub my hand over my face. “I don't know what I'm supposed to say to any of this.”
“You don't have to say anything.”
“That isn't helpful.”
“I don't know how to make it helpful.”
I look at him. He looks like a man standing at the edge of something without a fucking clue what happens if he steps forward.
Maybe because he isn't stepping forward.
He's waiting for me.
I hate how much that matters.
“Do you think what you did was wrong?”
His brow furrows. “To Grant?”
“No. To me.”
His face hardens. “Yes.”
“What part?”
“The lying.”
I wait.
“The manipulation.”
I keep waiting.
“Going into your house without your knowledge or consent.”
I stare at him.
“Touching you while you were asleep.”
My chest tightens.
“Scaring you without knowing whether you actually wanted it.”
That one gets me.
Because he liked it. He already admitted that. He still likes it.
“You regret scaring me?”
“No.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Hades.”
“You asked.”
“I did.”
“I regret taking the choice away from you.”
Something in my chest shifts.
He continues before I can respond. “I don't regret wanting to scare you.”
Of course he doesn't.
“I don't regret the mask. I don't regret wanting you to look into those woods and wonder if I was there.” His eyes darken. “I don't regret chasing you.”
A shiver moves down my spine. Goddammit. Wrong reaction. Completely inappropriate reaction.
My body has apparently missed the memo that we're having a serious conversation.
Something flashes in his eyes. He doesn't act on it.
That might be the most impressive thing he's done all evening.
“What I regret,” he says, “is deciding you didn't need to know enough to choose whether you wanted any of it.”
I look down at my hands. “The mask wasn't the worst part.”
“I know.”
My gaze snaps back to his. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you wanted him.”
Heat crawls into my cheeks. “Hades.”
“You did.”
“I know that.”
“You missed him.”
“Please stop sounding pleased with yourself.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Sorry.”
“No, you're not.”
“No. I’m not.”
Despite myself, I laugh. It breaks something open inside me. Not forgiveness. But something.
I shake my head. “You are so fucked up.”
“I know.”
“And irritating.”
“I know.”
“And apparently a murderer.”
“Yes.”
“That one wasn't really an invitation for you to agree.”
“I wasn't sure.”
I stare at him. “You're making jokes now?”
“You laughed.”
“That doesn't mean you're safe.”
“I've never been safe.” The words come quietly.
My smile disappears.
Hades watches me.
And for the first time, I understand the difference.
He's dangerous. He always will be. But dangerous and unsafe aren't necessarily the same thing. Not if I know what I'm choosing.
I stand.
Hades goes completely still.
I take one step toward him. Then another. His eyes track every movement. Usually, that intensity makes me feel hunted. Tonight, it feels different.
I'm the one closing the distance.
“If I tell you I need space again?”
“You get it.”
“No following me?”
“No.”
“No hiding in the woods?”
His jaw tightens. “No.”
“No watching me at work to make sure I'm okay?”
He hesitates. “No.”
I narrow my eyes. “You hesitated.”
“Because I hate that one.”
A startled laugh escapes me. “At least you're honest.”
“You told me no loopholes.”
“I did.”
His gaze stays on mine. “No loopholes.”
I swallow. “And you don't come into my house unless I invite you.”
“I won't.”
“You don't touch me while I'm sleeping unless you've been invited into my bed.”
Something hot flashes through his eyes.
Jesus.
“Do not make that face.”
“What face?”
“That one.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Liar.”
His expression changes instantly. The word lands between us.
Hades looks away.
Fuck.
“I didn't mean—”
“Yes, you did.” His voice is quiet.
I stare at him. Then nod. “Yes, you’re right.”
Because that's what tonight is. Pure honesty.
“I don't know how long it's going to take me to get past everything.”
“I understand.”
“I may bring it up again.”
“You can.”
“I may get pissed all over again tomorrow.”
“I'd expect it.”
“I might tell you to go fuck yourself.”
He smirks. “That wouldn't be new.”
My eyes narrow.
There's that almost-smile again. I hate that I love it.
I hate that I love anything about him right now.
Except I don't.
That's the fucking problem.
I love too much about him.
I take another step.
Hades's breathing changes slightly. I notice because I've learned him, too. Maybe not in the way he learned me through windows and stolen moments. But enough.
“There's something else I need to know.”
“Ask me.”
“If you could go back...”
His body goes tense.
“Would you do it again?”
He doesn't ask what I mean. He knows.
“I'd kill Grant again.”
“If you could go back to the first night you saw me through that window, knowing everything you know now, would you do all of it again?”
Something cracks across his expression. “Presley—”
He stops.
He looks at me for so long I wonder if I've finally found a question he can't answer.
Then he shakes his head. “Not everything.”
I stare at him.
“I'd still follow Penny.”
A laugh escapes me.
Then he grows serious.
“I'd still see you.” His voice drops. “I'd still want you.”
My breath catches.
“I'd probably still watch longer than I should.”
“Hades.”
“You asked for honesty.”
“I really need to stop doing that.”
That earns the faintest smile.
“But I'd come to the door.”
The humor disappears.
I stare at him.
“I'd knock.”
Oh.
“I'd meet you before I stole from you.”
My throat tightens. “And the mask?”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth. “I'd tell you.”
“Before wearing it?”
“Yes.”
“What would you say?”
That finally gets a real flicker of amusement. “I don't fucking know.”
“Try.”
His eyebrows pull together like I've asked him to solve an impossible equation.
Then his eyes darken. “I'd tell you I want to chase you through the woods.”
Heat floods my body. My traitorous vagina has officially rejoined negotiations.
“And?”
“That I want to scare you.”
I swallow. “And?”
“That I want you to know it's me.”
There it is. He’s giving me a choice.
“You'd let me say no?”
“Yes.”
“Would you like it?”
“No.”
I laugh. “But you'd accept it?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him. “Okay.”
His entire body goes still.
Apparently that one word means more than I intended because hope flashes across his face before he shuts it down.
God. Hades hoping might be more dangerous to me than Hades stalking.
“What does okay mean?”
“I don't know yet.”
He nods once.
I move closer.
We're only a few feet apart now.
He's still not touching me.
But my fingers ache to reach for him.
“I need to ask you something else.”
“Anything.”
My heart kicks hard against my ribs. This is terrifying.
“Wilder told me something.”
Hades's expression darkens immediately. “What?”
“He said he'd never seen you like this.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He said you don't let people in.”
Hades doesn't respond.
“And he said something else.”
A muscle works in Hades's jaw. “What did he say?”
I almost smile. “You look nervous.”
“I'm considering killing my brother.”
“You've already used up your family murder quota.”
His eyebrows raise.
“That was fucked up.”
“A little.”
“Sorry.”