23
Eros
We have another round of drinks before I pay our tab and take Psyche home.
She doesn’t let her public persona slip once, but I can see the strain around the edges.
All because of my mother. I knew she would try something eventually, but even I didn’t expect this .
She still intends to go through with the original plan.
I don’t know if me marrying Psyche was what pushed her too far, but there will be no talking her down from this ledge.
She means to throw herself over it and drag us down in the process.
Psyche doesn’t speak until we close the door of the penthouse behind us. “I thought the marriage would work.”
“I did, too.”
“Did you?” She hardly sounds like herself. “Or was this all part of the plan? Threaten me, humiliate my mother by marrying me, and then kill me?”
That stops me short. “You don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Psyche drags her hands through her hair.
“But I suppose you’re right. If you intended to become a widower, Aphrodite would have no reason to ambush us.
” She glances at me, her expression softening.
“Sorry. I’m so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t ask how you’re holding up. ”
My throat goes a little tight, but I breathe past it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not the one being threatened right now.”
“Your mother just steamrolled right over you as if you were a child. That can’t feel good.”
It doesn’t. It really fucking doesn’t. But then, I have no illusions about the role I play in my mother’s life. Always in support of her ambitions, her needs, her whims. She might tolerate my occasional pushing back, but I am a tool for her to pick up and use at her leisure.
I sigh. “My mother is a simple creature when it boils down to it. She lavishes praise and rewards on me when I do exactly what she wants, and she punishes me when I step out of line. I went against her will when I married you, so punishment it is.” On the surface, I suppose that’s how most people parent.
I honestly have no idea. It just feels so fucking insidious with my mother.
“Eros, that’s terrible.”
I let her concern wash over me. It feels good, far better than I deserve. “Don’t worry about me, Psyche. We’ll find a way through this.”
For a moment, I think she’ll keep arguing, keep digging, but she finally nods. “We need to talk about next steps.”
“Not yet.” I take her hand. I enjoy touching her so much, and not even in a way that’s confined to sex.
It still feels a little baffling that I can do it whenever I want.
This casual intimacy might be a small thing, but it’s an experience I’ve never had before.
More, touching her calms me in a way I’m not prepared to deal with. “I want to show you something.”
“Eros.” She gives an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think showing me your dick right now will solve any of our problems.”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” I lead her to the locked door across from my safe room and pull her to stand before me. “Pay very close attention and memorize this.” I type out the code slowly. “Repeat it back to me.”
Psyche does, flawlessly. “What is this?”
Instead of answering with words, I push the door open and nudge her in ahead of me. I don’t let her get far before I turn her back to the door. “This is reinforced. It can take machine-gun fire without punching through, at least long enough for Ares’s people to show up. The walls are the same.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s a lot of reinforcement.”
“It’s a safe room. If you’re home alone for some reason and get spooked, come here. I keep several burner phones charged, so you can call out for help.” I motion to the bright-red box near the door. “This will call Ares’s forces.”
If anything, her eyes get wider. “Not the police?”
“The police are for civilians.” It stands to reason that she’d default to the police in a situation like this, though.
The current Ares and Demeter don’t get along, so of course she won’t trust his private military with the safety of her family, even if that’s their official role.
Most of the Thirteen have some sort of private security they contract for themselves and their families, but we can’t trust Aphrodite’s people for obvious reason. No, it has to be Ares.
She gives herself a little shake. “I suppose that’s fair.” Psyche turns and looks at the trio of monitors set up around my chair, at the filing cabinets. “This isn’t just a safe room.”
“No, it’s not just a safe room.”
She glances at me. “You’re putting an undeserved amount of faith in me by giving me access to all this.”
I shrug with a nonchalance I don’t feel. “I promised that I’d keep you safe. That promise extends to when you’re not in my presence. This is one of the safest spots this side of the River Styx. Not even Hermes can get inside.”
She looks at the room with new appreciation. “That is safe. I swear that woman is half ghost and can sift through the vents.”
“Nothing so exciting. She’s just an excellent thief and hacker.” She was long before she became Hermes, but that part isn’t known publicly. In fact, not much at all is known publicly about her. She prefers it that way.
“You talk like she’s a friend.”
“She…is. Or as near to it as one gets in this city.”
Psyche’s smile is bittersweet. “Olympus continues to be quite the qualifier.”
“It’s home.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She presses her lips together as if not sure what to say. “Thank you for showing me this. I promise to try not to abuse it.”
That draws a laugh from me. “I appreciate your attempt at restraint.” We go back into the hall and I have her input the code enough times that I’m sure she can do it under duress.
We’ll do this in a couple of days to be sure, but it’s the bare minimum I can accomplish right now.
It does little to combat how loose around the edges I feel at the thought of my mother’s knife pointed in Psyche’s direction.
I promised that this marriage would change things, and in the end, it’s changed nothing.
Aphrodite has made a liar out of me.
We end up taking the time to change into more comfortable clothing before retreating to the living room to talk strategy.
As much as I don’t want Psyche’s idea of “organization” spilling all over the master bedroom, part of me intensely dislikes the way we have separate closets.
I don’t know what the fuck that’s about.
As she pointed out before, plenty of couples have separate rooms , and we have hardly anything resembling a traditional relationship.
Still.
Psyche sits on the other side of the couch, and I allow that space, but I reach down and grab her feet, lifting them to perch on my thigh. Her frown morphs into surprise as I take one foot and begin to massage it. “Oh gods, what are you doing?”
“Those heeled boots were sexy, but they look uncomfortable.”
“They are uncomfortable, but that’s the life of an influencer.” She melts down against the couch until she’s almost prone. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
I dig my thumb into her arch, causing her to emit a damn-near-sexual moan. “Sure you can. We need to come up with a new plan.”
She makes another little whimpering sound and rallies. “Pause.”
I go still. “What? Pause? What are you talking about?”
“Just…pause.” She pulls out her phone with a look of utter concentration on her face. “Can you tilt your head a little to the left so you catch the light? Yes, like that.”
Bemused, I allow her to arrange me like a human-sized doll and snap a picture. She turns her phone to me without me asking her to show me. It’s…really good. I look relaxed and happy, lounging on the couch with my wife’s feet in my lap. “You’re really good at this.”
“I’ve been doing it long enough; I kind of have to be.” She starts typing on her phone.
I won’t have her full attention until she posts the picture, so I settle in to wait. It doesn’t take her long. She sighs and sets her phone aside, giving me her full attention. “The plan—”
“I didn’t mean about the social-influencer thing, though you are good at that. I meant the pictures. Do you ever use an actual camera?”
“Not really.” Psyche shrugs. “I mean, there are photo shoots and stuff, but you can accomplish a lot with a camera phone these days. Besides, it’s kind of a fun challenge to get the photos I want with just the phone.”
“Consider me impressed.” And I am. It seems like all I bring to this world is ugliness. Death and pain. It’s never really bothered me before. Olympus might look gorgeous on the surface, but the pretty is only skin deep. Once you dig a little, all you find is rot.
Though that rule doesn’t seem to apply to the woman with her feet in my lap.
Psyche brings some beauty and positivity to the space she occupies.
All her photo captions are uplifting, even the ones where she’s admitting struggle.
I thought it was a crock of shit when she first started making waves in Olympus, but the longer I’m with her, the more I realize how fucking genuine she is.
Oh, she has her mask and she lies as well as I do, but that thread of kindness, that desire to bring light into the world instead of darkness? That’s real.
“Eros.” She says my name warmly, almost indulgently.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
Psyche shakes her head. “Please focus. This is important.”
She’s right. I can’t afford to get distracted, even by her . Really, focusing on anything but this conversation is an avoidance tactic. Now that my plan to keep Psyche safe—to keep her with me—has been proven a failure, there’s really only one answer. “I can get you out of Olympus.”
She goes still. “That’s nearly impossible.”
“It depends on who you know. Poseidon is a stickler for the rules, but not all his people are. With a hefty enough bribe, Triton will smuggle people out. If you leave Olympus, you’ll be safe from my mother.”