37. Presley
Presley
It’s been three days since Halloween.
Three long days since I told Hades not to follow me.
And apparently, the bastard has decided to become an excellent listener.
I haven't seen him anywhere.
Not at The Crooked Spine. Or Bramble & Bean. Not outside my house, standing between the trees.
He hasn’t called or texted.
He hasn't left anything on my porch.
Nothing.
Which is exactly what I asked for.
And I fucking hate it.
I carry my coffee toward an empty table near the window and sit. Outside, Hollow Creek has already started dismantling Halloween, leaving fall behind.
The fake cobwebs are coming down. Someone across the street is removing a skeleton from a bench while another person wrestles a giant inflatable ghost into submission.
Three days ago, I would've laughed.
Today, I take a drink of coffee and sit there, morosely staring at the world.
“Cheerful.”
My eyes snap up. Wilder stands across from me.
I tense when I look at him. He’s wearing a black hoodie. Black jeans. Same dark hair. Same general probably knows where to hide a body aesthetic as his brother.
But where Hades always looks like he's contemplating murder, Wilder looks like he'd help and then make inappropriate jokes during cleanup.
I narrow my eyes. “No.”
His eyebrows rise. “I haven't asked anything yet.”
“Whatever you're about to ask, the answer is no.”
“That's efficient.”
“Thank you.”
He glances at the empty chair across from me.
“Don’t.”
“I was going to ask if anyone's sitting there.”
“No.”
“So no one's sitting there?”
“No, you can't sit there.”
“Right.” He nods. “Less confusing when you use complete sentences.”
I glare at him.
He pulls the chair out.
“Wilder.”
“I know. Boundaries.” He doesn't sit. “Can I have five minutes?”
“No.”
“Three?”
Despite myself, my mouth twitches. I immediately flatten it.
His gaze drops to my mouth. “I'm counting that as progress.”
“Don't.”
“Noted.”
I should leave. Actually, I don't have to leave. I was here first.
And I'm not letting another man connected to Hades chase me out of somewhere.
“Two minutes.”
Wilder sits. “Generous.”
I take another drink of coffee. “You have one minute and fifty-five seconds.”
He leans back in the chair. For once, he doesn't look amused. “I fucked up.”
That isn't what I expected.
I lower my cup.
“At the festival. At the party. The mask.” He rubs a hand over his jaw. “That was me.”
“I know.”
“Yeah.”
“You helped him lie to me.”
“I did.”
“You made me think they were two different people.”
“Yes.”
No excuse. No but. No attempt to soften it.
My anger shifts slightly. It doesn’t lessen. It’s just... different.
“Why’d you do it?”
“Because Hades asked me to.”
I give him a disbelieving look. “That might be the shittiest explanation I've ever heard.”
“It isn't an explanation.”
“Sounds like one.”
“It's the reason I did it. Doesn't mean it was right.”
I stare at him.
Wilder looks down at the table. “I've been doing stupid shit because Hades asked me to for most of my life.”
“That's reassuring.”
His mouth twitches. “Probably shouldn't have said that.”
“Probably not.”
Silence stretches between us.
Then I glance toward the counter. Gracie is pretending not to watch us. She’s doing a terrible job. She immediately ducks behind the espresso machine—and hits her head.
Typical Gracie.
When I look at Wilder again, he's watching me.
“You have about a minute.”
“Then I'll make it count.”
Something in his expression changes. The humor disappears. “I'm not here to tell you to forgive him.”
That gets my attention.
“I'm not going to tell you what he did wasn't fucked up. It was.”
I don’t say anything.
“He should've told you.”
“Yes.”
“He should've told you before he let it get as far as it did.”
My fingers tighten around the cup. “Yes.”
“And making me put on the mask was fucking stupid.”
“Extremely.”
“He knows that now.”
A bitter laugh escapes me. “Wonderful. I'm glad this has been such a valuable learning experience for everyone.”
Wilder takes that without flinching. “I deserved that.”
“You deserve worse.”
“Probably.”
I hate that he's making it difficult to be mean to him.
“You have thirty seconds.”
“Then here's the part I came to tell you.”
I wait.
“I've never seen my brother like this.”
My chest tightens.
I hate that it does.
Wilder notices. He stares at me for a moment.
Of course he does.
Apparently, observation is a family trait.
“I’m fine. Continue or leave.”
“He doesn't do relationships.”
“Most stalkers don’t have much success in relationships.”
“Fair.”
I look away.
“Hades doesn't let people in, Presley.”
Something about the way he says it makes me look back.
Not women. People.
“He doesn't trust easily. Doesn't talk about himself. Doesn't need anybody.” Wilder pauses. “At least that's what he likes to think.”
I remember Hades by the fire. “Wilder and I didn't have the best childhood. We survived.”
My stomach twists.
“He told me a little about your childhood.”
Wilder goes completely still. “What did he tell you?”
“That it wasn't good. That you survived.”
His shoulders loosen. “Yeah.”
“That's it?”
“Then that's all I'm going to say about it.”
I blink. I expected more.
Wilder seems to read the question on my face. “It's his story too. He gets to decide what you know.”
That lands harder than it should.
Wilder must see something change in my expression. “He fucked that up with you,” he says quietly. “Badly.”
I look down at my coffee.
“But there are things about him that aren't mine to tell.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because this part is mine.”
I look up.
Wilder leans forward, forearms resting on the table. “I've known Hades my entire life. I've seen him angry. I've seen him hurt. I've seen him do things most people wouldn't understand.”
My attention catches on that. Wilder doesn't elaborate.
“He's always in control. Always has a plan. Even when everything goes to shit, Hades knows what he's doing next.”
I remember Greycourt, and the look on Hades's face when I told him not to follow me.
“He didn't have one that night,” Wilder continues.
My throat tightens.
“After you left, he just stood there.”
I don't want to picture it... but I do anyway.
“He could've followed you. He knew where you were going.”
My stomach twists.
“He wanted to.”
“I’m sure.”
“But you told him not to.”
I stare at Wilder. “He really didn't follow me?”
“No.”
I blow out a long sigh. “I know.”
“Do you?”
My eyes narrow. “I haven't seen him in three days.”
“He’s been with me.”
Oh.
“He hasn't been watching me?”
“No.”
“Driving past?”
“No.”
“Standing somewhere I can't see him?”
“No.” A humorless smile touches Wilder's mouth. “He thought about it.”
Of course he fucking did.
My eyes close. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah.”
“At least you're honest.”
“Somebody in the family should try it.”
My eyes snap open.
Wilder grimaces. “That was probably unnecessary.”
“No.” I take another drink. “Keep going.”
“He wanted to find loopholes.”
That sounds exactly like Hades.
“You told him not to follow you. You didn't technically tell him he couldn't drive past your house. Or walk the trail. Or make sure you got home from work.”
My mouth falls open.
“That fucking—”
“He didn't.”
I stop.
Wilder's eyes hold mine. “He wanted to. But he didn't.”
The anger is still there, but something else moves beneath it.
Something I don't want.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because when you told him to stop, he stopped.”
“Congratulations. Should I get him a sticker?”
Wilder almost smiles. “No.”
“A cookie?”
“He'd probably eat it.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
His expression sobers again. “He should've respected your boundaries from the beginning. He didn't. I'm not pretending otherwise.”
“Good. Because I would throw my coffee at you if you did.”
He smirks, then continues. “But I've never seen Hades let somebody walk away when every part of him wanted to go after them.”
My chest aches. “I don't know if that's supposed to make me feel better.”
“It isn't.”
“Then what is it supposed to do?”
“Nothing.”
I stare at him.
Wilder shrugs. “You don't have to do anything with it. I just thought you should know.”
That shuts me up.
That's the first thing anyone connected to this disaster has given me without apparently expecting something in return.
Information.
That's it.
I look down. My coffee has gone lukewarm. “I hate him.”
“I know.”
“I really fucking hate him.”
He stares at me. “Do you?”
“I miss him.” The words escape before I can stop them.
Fuck.
Wilder doesn't smile. Doesn't tease. Doesn't tell me Hades misses me too.
He just waits.
My eyes burn. “And that's what pisses me off the most.”
“Yeah.”
“I miss Hades.” My voice cracks. “And I miss him in the woods.”
There. I said it.
Wilder's expression doesn't change.
“He scared me.”
“I’m sure.”
“But I got used to it. I started looking for him.”
“Habit.”
“Something like that.” I wipe angrily beneath one eye. “I thought there were two men pulling me in different directions.”
Wilder stays quiet.
“There wasn’t.”
“No.”
“It was all him.”
“Yeah.”
“I don't know what the hell to do with that.”
“You don't have to do anything with it.”
I laugh bitterly. “That's not very helpful.”
“I'm not very helpful.”
“Finally, something we agree on.”
That earns a smile.
Then it's gone.
“I can tell you one thing.”
I wait.
“He wasn't pretending.”
My heart stops for half a second. “What?”
“With you.”
I stare at him.
“The mask was a lie. Making me wear it was a lie. Letting you think there were two men was a lie.” Wilder pauses. “But what he feels about you isn't.”
I look away. “You can't know that.”
A quiet laugh comes from him. “Oh, I fucking know.”
Despite myself, I look back at him.
Wilder shakes his head. “My brother bought a dog a Halloween sweater.”
A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it.
Then I put on a somber expression. “That isn't funny.”
“It's fucking hilarious.”
“Penny looked adorable.”
“I'm sure she did.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not the point.”
I fight another smile.
Wilder watches me for a second. “I've never seen him like this, Presley.” The humor is gone again. “He remembers everything you say. Talks about you when he doesn't realize he's talking about you. Reads romance novels because you recommend them.”
My eyebrows raise. “He told you that?”
“No. I saw the book.”
I snort. “He's going to kill you.”
“Probably.” The word is too casual. “I’ve teased him a lot about it.”
We sit in silence for a beat.
Something flickers through Wilder's expression. Then it's gone.
“He’s in love with you.”
My breath catches. I stare at him. Wilder doesn't look away.
“He hasn't told me that.”
“He hasn't told me either.” He smirks. “I figured it out. Because he’s my brother.”
My throat hurts.
“And because when you told him not to follow you, he didn't.”
I look out the window. People move along the sidewalk, going about their normal lives. Probably very few of them, if any, have masked stalkers.
Lucky bastards.
“I don't know if I can forgive him.”
“Then don't.”
I turn back sharply.
Wilder shrugs. “Not today. Maybe not ever. That's your call.”
“You really suck at this whole convincing-me-to-take-your-brother-back thing.”
“Good. Because that's not why I'm here.”
“Then why are you?”
His gaze meets mine. “To make sure you know enough to decide for yourself.”
My chest squeezes.
Hades should have given me that from the beginning so I could make a choice.
But it’s too late now. We can’t go back and change things.
Wilder pushes his chair back. “That's more than two minutes.”
“By a lot.”
He stands. “I've never been good with time.”
“Wilder.”
He looks at me.
“Why did he do it?”
His face changes. “Which part?”
“All of it.” I run my fingers around my cup. “Watching me. Following me.”
The mask.
Wanting to frighten me and protect me at the same time.
Wanting every version of me while splitting himself into two.
But I don’t say those things.
I can’t.
Wilder is quiet for several seconds. Then he shakes his head. “That one you need to ask Hades.”
Frustration flares. “You came here to explain him.”
“No.” His voice is gentle. “I came here to give you context.”
I stare at him.
“He needs to explain himself.”
Damn him. That's annoyingly fair.
Wilder shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets. “He won't come to you unless you ask.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he told me.”
My heart trips.
“He said that?”
“Not exactly.”
Of course not.
“What exactly did he say?”
Wilder's mouth twitches. “That if you never want to see him again, you won't.”
I go still. “He said that?”
“Yeah.”
The ache in my chest spreads.
“He looked like saying it might kill him, but he said it.”
I look down at my coffee.
“I'm not telling you what to do,” Wilder says.
“I know.”
“And I'm not telling you he's a good man.”
A tiny laugh escapes me. “No?”
“Fuck no.” Wilder smiles. “But he's my brother.”
There it is. Everything Hades said in front of the fire.
I'd do anything for him.
Apparently it runs both ways.
Wilder turns to leave. “Wilder?”
He looks over his shoulder.
“I'm still mad at you.”
“I'd be concerned if you weren't.”
“And I'm not forgiving you yet either.”
“Fair.”
I narrow my eyes. “And if you ever put that mask on again, I might let Callie run you over.”
He blinks. “Who the fuck is Callie?”
A genuine smile curls my lips for the first time in three days. “You don't want to know.”
He considers that. “Actually, now I kind of do.”
“Leave.”
He laughs and walks toward the door.
I watch him go.
Then I look down at my phone.
Hades's name is still there.
I don't touch it.
Instead, I sit with everything Wilder gave me.
And for the first time since Halloween, I wonder if I'm ready to hear the rest.