15. Persephone

Chapter 15

Persephone

I was staring at the fire, and to be honest, I didn't really remember driving from the party back to Hades' house.

When we'd gotten back to the house, Hades had taken me into a bathroom—his —which was attached to a bedroom. He ran me a hot shower.

I hadn't realized how much I'd needed that until he left me alone and I stood under the spray. I'd turned it as hot as I could stand it, washing away the sweat and booze and the grossly weird thickness that covered me.

I'd put on a pair of soft leggings and an oversized sweater, and here I was, sitting on the leather loveseat in the library as the sound of the flames crackling over the wood filled my head and drowned out everything else.

It filled the void.

I could feel Hades staring at me, but I didn't look at him.

The blanket he'd wrapped around me was soft. Cashmere. I ran the pads of my fingers on the edge where a strip of silk was stitched.

"When I was younger, I was terrified of thunderstorms." I ran my fingers over that silk. "My father had been gone for two weeks on business. The night he came back, there was an awful storm." I stared into those flames, remembering that night vividly. I didn't know why. It wasn't any different from any other time.

"I was huddled under my blanket. It was late, but I couldn't sleep because the thunder was so loud. My father came in and showed me the wool blanket he'd brought back from Ireland."

I remembered how blue it was. Cobalt, he called it.

"It was so scratchy, but it had this satin trim all the way around that was so soft. He bundled me up and told me when I was scared and restless to run my fingers over the edge, that it would calm me."

And I did that right now, my fingertips skating over the silk. But this blanket wasn't heavy or scratchy. It wasn't thick like the one from my childhood.

"I'd curl up wherever I was, feeling safe and secure because I had that blanket around me. It was like nothing could touch me." I swore I could feel the weight of it around me, and I smiled. "There were two things in my life that reminded me so much of my dad. That blanket and this polished antique box he cherished." I felt a chill suddenly move over me and glanced at Hades.

He'd been still and silent since we'd returned, but I could still feel the dark energy pouring off of him. He'd poured himself a glass of liquor and given me one as well. I stared down at that square-cut glass resting in my lap. The amber-colored liquid inside appeared bright and alive because of the light from the fire.

"I never understood why my father loved this little box so much. It was beautiful, but a tiny thing. There wasn't anything special about it, certainly it didn't scream expensive like the rest of the items we had in the house." I could see that box so clearly in my mind. "It was made from three different types of wood and was so polished, it gleamed when the firelight hit it."

I felt my brows pull down as I thought of how he'd run his fingers over the top, then along the golden lock on the front.

"I asked him more than once what was inside, and he just told me it was something precious, trinkets from his past that made him feel good, that reminded him of memories he never wanted to let go. It was passed down by his father, so I guess it was sentimental in every sense of the word." I brought the glass up to my lips and took a small sip. The alcohol burned my tongue as it slid down my throat. But it felt good, that discomfort."I envisioned dried flowers inside, maybe a pebble he stepped on as he walked along the coast. Little pieces of experiences he picked up along the way in his life."

I looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers together.

"I wanted to take the box with me when I left to come live with you. But I couldn't find it. I assume it got mixed up with everything going on and misplaced." I shrugged. "I guess it doesn't really matter. It's just materialistic things. The only thing that's important are the memories you hold on to, you know?"

When he didn't answer, I looked over at him once more. His jaw was clenched tight, a muscle working underneath it. He stared at the fire as he tossed back the rest of his drink.

I glanced at my hands, my thoughts leaving happier memories about my father, and going down a darker path. I stared at my wrists. Earlier in the night, they'd been an angry red but were now deeper, darker shades of scarlet.

The sight of it pissed me off.

I should have fought harder, screamed louder.

"It wouldn't have made a difference." Hades finally spoke, and I realized I'd said those words out loud.

"I loved my father and mother." I pushed all thoughts of Trevor away. I stared into my glass. "But I'd be lying if I didn't admit they were absent from my life more than they were around." I took another sip.

I didn't know why I was telling him any of this. I'm sure he didn't care. But the words spilled from me on their own, as if a faucet had been opened and all my insides were just pouring out.

I felt extremely vulnerable right now. Probably more so than I'd ever felt before.

I looked over at Hades again just in time to see him get up to refill his drink, sit back down, and lift his glass and take a long pull from it. He'd taken off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair, unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and rolled the sleeves up his forearms.

The dark tattoos on his skin clashed with the crisp whiteness of the button-down. And then there were the splatters of blood on the collar and still a few droplets on his neck.

I felt this wave of need move through me. It was slow, like water touching the shore before being called back to the abyss. I glanced away quickly, my face heating, my throat tightening.

I shouldn't find that violence attractive.

"And when they passed away, I felt like there was this hole inside of me. But I think it's always been there. It's just bigger now."

I ran the pad of my finger over the rim of my tumbler, once more thinking about that blanket my father gave me and how I wrapped it tightly around me. It gave me a faux sense of safety. As a child, the smallest things helped so much.

Not anymore.

The emotion took the air from my lungs. "I feel like I'm floating into a black hole. I feel like I'm nothing." That last word was whispered so softly I didn't even know if I'd actually said it out loud.

But the sound of Hades setting his glass down on the table beside him had me blinking back into focus.

"Trevor… I think you broke his hands and nose." I was stating the obvious. I'd known that before we even left the party.I glanced at Hades and said, "Will you get in trouble?" I didn't want him to. He was protecting me.

Hades slowly shook his head.

I licked my suddenly dry lips and nodded. "Good. I want nothing to happen to you." I was surprised at how much those words meant.

A long moment of silence passed as I focused on the feeling of the heat from the fire washing over me. But it still didn't take the chill away.

"I would have killed him for you."

I looked at Hades sharply, so stunned by his admission that I was speechless.

"Don't say those things," I whispered and couldn't draw my focus away from him. He didn't speak, just kept watching me with that penetrating gaze. "It's not right?—"

"What's not right?" The way he asked it was light, almost conversational. But I could feel the underlying interest laced in those words.

And when he leaned forward ever-so-slightly, I knew he expected my answer.

"Saying things that are so… permanent."

"It's true though. And I would have enjoyed ending his life just for touching you."

I swallowed roughly, heat pooling in my lower belly because I enjoyed hearing him say those things. "None of this is right." I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, and he watched the act, his eyes becoming hooded.

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. It was reminiscent of a growl. Hades picked up his glass, finishing the alcohol.

"Tell me how you feel, sweetheart. Tell me all the things you want unburdened."

How did I answer? Did I even dare say all the things that rolled around in my head? Instead, I whispered, "How I feel about you…" I swallowed roughly. "It's not how I'm supposed to feel. How I'm supposed to feel for you. It's wrong," I admitted.

I looked away sharply, embarrassed I told him that.

I felt like my skin had been stripped bare, showing my soul to everyone. It was a chink in my armor, rusty and tarnished. I thought I was stronger.

"It's the good kind of wrong, Persephone."

I closed my eyes and swayed where I sat.

I've never felt more fragile in my life.

"I feel like I'm not on solid ground." I didn't know why this exact moment propelled me forward, had everything breaking open, but here we were.

Me opening up to a man who most likely didn't care. A man whom I had feelings for.

My adoptive uncle.

We sat in silence. Me because I didn't know what to say. Him because I felt like he was trying to dissect me. I wondered what he'd find, what he'd see.

"I don't feel like I'm in control." I felt a heavy tear roll down my cheek and quickly wiped it away, hating that I was showing any kind of vulnerability in front of a man like Hades. "I don't know what I need anymore."

And the longer he stared at me, saying nothing, the more disjointed I felt.

"I know what you need."

I felt something zing through my body, as if those words were a light switch and it turned on this intense, blinding illumination inside of me.

The light from the fire licked across his enormous form as he watched me. "Stand up, Bunny, and get naked for me. It's now time for me to be in control."