twenty-two -Ares-
twenty-two
-Ares-
The rhythm matches that of my heart, somehow controlled despite the rage burning beneath my skin.
Fucking McAllister. The name alone fills me with rage. It’s not often that someone challenges me like this, even if it’s indirectly. He won’t go unpunished.
404 just informed me that he’s going to be in Japan for the next five days, but after that, I plan to make a move, even if that means public decapitation.
“Track his movements since he showed up on the political stage,” I command, holding my phone and pacing the length of the room.
The space feels too small, suddenly like someone is holding me down, not letting me act of my own will.
Because if I were sure it ended here with McAllister, I would blow his whole fucking life up.
“Every meeting, every handshake, every single fuck… I want to know everything about him and the people surrounding him.”
“Already working on that,” 404 replies, and I can hear him typing as we speak. “He’s on a diplomatic trip right now. Some kind of multicultural exchange of whatever… short definition for burning taxpayers' money on a private jet vacation.”
I look at Brynn, who sits in an armchair, her face betraying nothing, but her fingers twitch slightly, letting me know she’s as anxious as I am to get this over with.
“Financial records show transfers for several offshore accounts, eventually linking back to shell companies similar to Whitlock’s structure.
” 404 says on the other line, snapping my attention back to him.
“And there’s something else… I think McAllister likes to play war more than regular people, he serves on a Senate committee overseeing advanced defense technologies. ”
I knew something about that, nevertheless, my jaw tightens, I can’t get my hands on him fast enough.
“Okay, see what else you can dig up, and if he tries to contact Ashford, put him through. But make sure he doesn’t say anything that might compromise us.
My people will be with him at all times.
So if he fucks up, it's game over for him. McAllister needs to believe everything’s normal until we’re ready to strike.
” I end the call with a few final instructions, ensuring everything goes smoothly, at least on that part, because nothing has been going smoothly lately in my life.
I look again at Brynn, studying the curve of her neck, the small vein that twitches with every pulse. My little curse. My unexpected liability.
The thought of bringing her into this world doesn’t sit comfortably with me. I know she wants to be involved, and I know she’s already involved in it because of Elias. Though, there’s a part of me, a foreign sensation that fights in my chest, something between irritation and fear.
Not for myself, of course. It’s never for myself. It’s for her.
“You’re doing it again,” she says, without looking up from her phone.
“Doing what?”
She raises her eyes to meet mine in a sort of challenge. “That thing when you think too loudly.”
I walk to the mini bar in my study and pour two fingers of whiskey, not answering her immediately.
I swirl the amber liquid in my glass and look at the faint oily trace it leaves behind.
Time moves differently when you’ve lived as long as I have, but some pleasures remain the same.
“McAllister returns in five days,” I say, taking a sip.
“He’ll have a lot of protection around him.
This one won’t be like with Whitlock or Ashford. ”
“Good. I was getting bored with the easy ones.” She repeats the words from earlier, but there’s a new something in them. Determination is still there, but there is also some sort of fragility.
“I think you should stay here for this one. You’re still healing.”
“I’m fine,” she mutters.
“Your definition of fine nearly got you killed in Kharon.”
“You’re the one who almost got me killed in Kharon, and last time I checked, now we’re on the same side.” She reaches for the rest of my whiskey and drinks it in one sip. “Are we doing this again? The part where you try to sideline me?”
“I get the feeling this one is going to be different. I don’t like the attention and the efforts he’s made to follow things in Kharon.”
“Ares, you know me. I’m not gonna sit at home while you go get Elias’ killer. I need resolution.”
My first instinct is to refuse. To keep her here, safe and protected, while I handle McAllister. But I recognize that look in her eyes. The same stubborn determination that drew me to her in the beginning. That same fire that makes her both hard-headed and incredibly irresistible.
I don’t answer. Instead, I move to the window, looking out at the city lights. My territory. This whole planet has been my hunting ground since before anything or anyone else existed.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” she says, waiting for my confirmation before continuing.
“What is it?” I ask, already knowing I’m going to do it, because lately, I’m doing whatever she wants.
Fuck my life.
“I need you to take me somewhere in the next few days, or maybe send a car to take me. It’s just somewhere I need to be.”
I turn, studying her face. Whatever it is, this is important.
“Okay, I’ll take you,” I reply, without even asking where, because I can see the visible distress on her face as she asks.
It’s only the next day that I find out where we’re actually going. She gets up early in the morning, moving around the house enough for me to get up as well.
At least she waits for me with fresh coffee, so that reduces my urge to shoot someone in the head.
Then, straight after breakfast, because she knows I won’t let her leave the house without eating something, she starts getting dressed in a workout outfit. “Can we go?” she asks, looking at me as I join her in the dressing room, trying to pick something to wear.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask, since it’s clear she isn’t going to volunteer the information.
“It’s in the woods...” That’s all she manages to say, and I understand not to push her yet.
I have an idea where we’re going now. I had one before, but I didn’t want to be the one saying it. I just pull on a pair of black joggers and a matching zip hoodie and follow her out of the room.
“Are you trying to take me to the woods and take advantage of me?” I ask, letting the amusement show on my lips.
“If I wanted to take advantage of you, I wouldn’t drag you all the way to the woods. I’d be much more creative than that.”
“Oh, do tell,” I challenge her.
“I’m not gonna tell because you’re not gonna want to leave the house if I start talking,” she smiles again and starts walking toward the door, shaking that tight ass, so tempting that I barely stop myself from keeping her locked in.
I step back, suppressing the urge to push her against the wall and remind her exactly who she’s dealing with.
“Fine,” I give up, feeling more defeated than ever as I grab my car keys. “But you stay close to me. No wandering off.”
“Yes, sir,” she answers from outside, making things ten times more difficult. I think I just got a kink for her calling me, Sir.
She’s already in the car by the time I get there, more prepared than ever, but also with a certain wariness written all across her face.
She makes me drive for around an hour until we reach the Twin Falls State Park. My initial hunch was right, we’re where Elias lies buried. She wants to visit him.
The forest swallows the sound of remaining civilization as we drive deeper between the trees.
Brynn has barely spoken for the past few miles, directing me only with short commands like: “left here,” “straight past that fork,” “slow down now.” Her voice tries to seem steady despite the emotions I know are vibrating beneath her composed exterior.
“Stop here,” she says, as we reach a point where the path narrows beyond what even my SUV can go through. “We walk from this point.”
I kill the engine, and when we get out of the car, I let her guide me. Truth is, I could track a man through these woods blindfolded, follow the scent of fear for miles, and become a hunter in every sense of the word, but I need to let her take charge now. I can’t steal this moment from her.
“It’s not far,” she says, already moving toward the barely visible trail that cuts between two ancient trees.
I follow silently, my footfalls making no sound on the forest floor. An old habit of mine, to constantly keep training. Still, I can’t help notice the contrast to her movements. Her feet are heavy, burdened with more than just her injury. She remains undeniably human. Breakable. Mortal.
This thought rumbles uncomfortably in my chest as I watch her keep moving on the uneven ground, each step a potential new injury.
I don’t think my mind can handle that risk for long. But for now, all I can do is follow her.
“Why here?” I ask at one point, though I already know the answer.
She doesn’t turn. “I promised myself. I’d come here a year later. But I was injured.” She doesn’t say more, just keeps walking further, as if she were to continue speaking, she probably won’t be able to stop her tears.
After just a few more minutes, the trees thin slightly, revealing a small clearing, bathed in just a few golden rays that managed to break through the clouds. In its center stands a young lilac tree, its still fragile branches swaying gently in the wind.
Brynn stops at the edge of the clearing, her posture changing subtly, her head lifting as if preparing for battle. Though there are no enemies here. Only memories.
“This is it,” she says, her voice carrying a softness that doesn’t usually define her.
I sit back, giving her space as she approaches the tree. She kneels beside it, her fingers reaching out to brush the earth at its base.
“Elias,” she whispers, and the name hangs in the air between us.
I remain still. I’m not sure if it's my place to intrude. Yet she’s chosen to share this with me.
“This is where I buried him last year,” she says after a long silence.
The image of her carrying him alone through the woods, single-handedly, digging his grave, then letting him go, of everything that meant something to her, tightens a knot in my stomach.
“He was the only person who ever saw me,” she continues, her fingers still moving through the soil as if seeking a connection with what lies beneath. “Not what I could do for him, or what he could make me into. Just me.”
I taste blood and realize I’ve bitten the inside of my cheek. I rage at the implication that I don’t see her, that I wouldn’t give everything for her. But I understand she doesn’t trust me completely, just like I don’t trust her.
“Why show me this?” I ask, unable to hide the discomfort her words have just caused.
She looks up at me, moisture gathering at the corners of her eye.
“Because you need to understand what drives me. What I am willing to do.” Her gaze is unflinching, like she’s trying to hold back.
“He would have liked you. You would have probably been the only guy I’ve ever been with that he would call right for me…
If things were different. Maybe in another world. ”
Her statement catches me off guard. I’m not usually at a loss for words, but I find myself speechless. The vulnerable honesty coming from her is more disarming than any weapon she could use against me.
“I’m not him,” I finally say, my words coming out more harshly than I intended.
She smiles, or at least tries to. “No. You’re not.”
She rises then, her hand lingering on the tree as she steps away. Whatever emotion has briefly surfaced is hidden now behind the armor she wears so well. But I know the true her. The depth of her capacity for love, for loyalty. It changes nothing and everything.
She tries to leave, but I stop her. She was alone the last time she was here.
Now she needs to know she will never be alone again.
“Little curse,” I say, wrapping my arms around her, “just because I let you keep your facade, let you feel brave, doesn’t mean I don’t feel what’s inside.
Whether you like it or not, now you have someone to turn to for everything.
” She turns her face away from me, probably so I won’t see her crying.
I keep her there for a few more moments, kissing her hair. “I will kill every single one of them. I promise,” I whisper, then I let her go, and she storms ahead of me, following the path back to the car.
We walk back through the forest, ending up side-by-side now rather than one following the other.
Something has changed between us. It’s not trust exactly, but understanding.
Or recognition of mutual goals that drive us.
The hunt has taken on a new meaning now, not just protecting what’s mine.
It’s about vengeance for what was taken from her.