28. Persephone

Chapter 28

Persephone

I t had been two weeks since the incident at the party.

It had only been two days since the blow-up with Hades where I'd walked away from him. But I still heard those cruel words echoing in my head.

I knew he hadn't meant them, but that didn't mean they hadn't cut me deep.

The next day, when I'd been sure he'd left for work, I went into his room to get my things. I'd come across a war zone of tossed-over furniture, broken glass, and clothes scattered everywhere.

The state of the room told me how volatile he was. It told me how much he hurt.

I figured both of us needed a little cooling down period. I couldn't even imagine how much pain he was in after baring himself to me that way.

Those who hurt seek to hurt others in defense.

And as much as I wanted to give him space, no matter the horrible things he'd admitted to me and said in retaliation because of his pain, I missed him.

He hadn't texted me or called. And I hadn't seen him in passing in that entire time.

But I wouldn't let him shut me out, wouldn't let him keep that wall up he'd perfected his entire life. Not with me.

We need to talk.

I believe you.

I want to help you.

I miss you.

My texts had gone unanswered, which I wasn't surprised about, but it didn't sting any less.

I hadn't been able to stop thinking about the story Hades told me, and I couldn't get rid of the horrible images of what my father and grandfather had done to him as a child.

I couldn't sleep, couldn't think of anything else but my father leaving those scars all over his back and chest.

The abuse he endured, and for what? To make money? To just have an excuse to dish out psychotic behavior to those who should have been protected and loved?

It was so abhorrent I couldn't even think straight and hadn't been able to focus on anything else. I went through my days like I had this fog around me.

How could one man I thought I'd known so well my entire life turn out to be the very monster I always assumed Hades was?

Of course, Hades wasn't innocent by any means. He had skeletons in his closet, guns at his side, and violence as his shield. But he'd been shaped to be the creature that he was, the killer that embraced all that he'd endured.

And I hadn't realized that until after he'd told me about his trauma. One. Fucking. Instance. God, what he must have been through. All the countless times he was beat down until he was nearly buried alive.

Hades used that weakness to build his strength.

I wanted to ask my father why. I wanted to hit him, scream at him. I wanted to know why he'd been so corrupt, why he'd hurt the person he should have protected.

Had my mother known? And if she did, had she even cared?

A scream of anger and frustration rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

I stepped into school, my thoughts clearing as I was brought back to the cesspool.

Things had been settling down… somewhat. There weren't as many whispers, not as many stares or insults thrown my way.

I assumed a new drama had popped up, which deviated the attention from me. But as soon as I got inside, I knew something was different.

There was an electric energy in the air. A hush fell over everyone as I moved down the hall. It was when I rounded the corner to go to my locker that I spotted Trevor.

I came to a screeching halt, shocked to see him.

For as much damage as Hades had done, I hadn't expected to see him at school for quite a while, if ever.

He had a bandage taped across the bridge of his nose, and angry bruising under his eyes that spread across his cheeks.

He had one arm in a sling pressed across his chest and two of his fingers in splints.

Because I'd come to a sudden stop, it caused the person behind me to slam into my back. They gave me a juicy curse before walking around me.

But the commotion had been loud enough that Trevor and his cronies took notice, and he glanced in my direction.

He didn't show any expression, or maybe he couldn't because of the state of his face, but he held my gaze for so long that I felt this icy chill skate down my spine.

And when he looked away, I exhaled, realizing I'd been holding my breath. There was this weird sensation that spoke volumes in the look he gave me.

It was one that said, "you're going to pay for this".

He glanced at me once more, and I narrowed my eyes.

All I could think about was how afraid I'd been when he pressed me against that wall, and how I'd been so helpless. I didn't want to feel that way again.

The knife Hades had given me was tucked in the pocket of my cardigan, feeling hot and heavy. Feeling like protection.

I thought about the girl in the bathroom. How he'd attacked her, but she didn't have anyone to talk to.

I could only imagine the horrors that Trevor had done to her. How hopeless she must have felt when he taunted that no one would ever believe her.

I hoped he could see the anger burning in my eyes and directed solely on him. I hoped he could feel how much my hatred for him burned within me.

I didn't want to be afraid anymore. I wouldn't.

I refused to.

I walked right by him and to my locker, my head held high, my shoulders back. Fuck him. Fuck hisfather. And fuck this entire school.

I went about the rest of the day feeling a surge of confidence I hadn't experienced in far too long.

There was just so much on my mind, things that I couldn't control, and a situation that seemed hopeless.

But throughout all of this internal turmoil, only one man kept a constant presence within me.

Hades.

The face of the man I thought I'd hated for so long, yet had fallen so hard for. I didn't know when it had happened, but I was glad it had.

I loved him.

It was right before lunch, as I was walking to the cafeteria, that everyone seemed more animated. Their attention was on their phones as they congregated in the halls.

And when they saw me, they stopped, covering their mouths with their hands as they whispered. Others were outright pointing right at me.

"Oh my God, not only did she get Trevor hurt, she also went after his father."

I glanced at the girl who said the words, and she took a step back from me, as if she thought I'd hurt her.

I found a secluded corner away from everyone else, pulled out my phone, and started searching news reports. Of course, I knew what Hades had done.

Several news reports were very vague about what had happened to Martin Wilcox, but they all said he was beaten brutally and found in the back alley behind an abandoned slaughterhouse known as Butcher and Sons.

There also had been several anonymous tips that Judge Wilcox was involved in illegal activities. Racketeering, blackmail, and bribery were the "lesser" named allegations.

There was a slew of sexual assault reports that were revealed, ones that were wiped off record—or so he thought. I read only a couple of the reports before I was sick to my stomach and had to exit off the websites.

I turned off my phone and shoved it in my bag. I didn't want notifications. I didn't want messages filling my phone up because everyone was playing the blame game and it was all pointed at me.

But isn't it my fault? That little, insidious voice in the back of my mind whispered. Hades might have followed through with it all, but it was because of me. For me.

I pushed that bitch of a voice away. The judge had it coming. He deserved so much more.

I stood there and just stared at the ground for long moments, before the bell and I was pulled out of my musings. I needed to get my fucking life together.

I spent the rest of the day in this haze until the last period finally came. I was looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until we were let out. And when it finally came, I grabbed my stuff, feeling like a zombie as I made my way out.

I'd grown numb to the whispers and glares all day. If they only knew. It wouldn't have mattered , I thought. These people… it wouldn't have mattered.

I had to make a detour to one of my previous classes to drop off an assignment. I'd been in such a daze all day. I was pretty sure I'd forgotten to turn in a lot of shit.

Did any of this matter, though? Missing homework, being late to class… any of the mundane things we did daily that didn't make one difference in your life. Not when people were being assaulted, maimed, and killed.

When I left the classroom, I was getting my phone out. I wanted to talk to Hades. I'd keep calling and texting until he realized I wasn't going anywhere.

I rounded a corner just as I felt this weird sensation move down my spine.

"The shit you've started, you little fucking bitch."

I snapped my head up and froze as I saw Trevor standing at the end of the hall. He was seething as he stared at me.

After glancing around, I realized this part of the school had already been cleared out, and the chance of a student or teacher coming through was probably slim. I glanced over my shoulder from where I'd come. I could run back to the classroom I'd just been at, tell the teacher, but then Trevor tsked.

"You can try to leave, but I'll just keep coming for you, cunt."

I now had my hand in my cardigan pocket as I faced him again. No more running.

"The damage you've done." His face was red, and he took a step closer. "What your fucking watchdog did to my father." Spittle flew out of his mouth as he stalked closer.

I moved back then, but he was corralling me, moving me to where he wanted, and that was with the wall at my back and the only way out through him.

I wouldn't show him I was afraid. "If you mean you and your corrupt asshole father got what you deserved and you can't hurt people anymore because the spotlight is on you…" I shrugged, my fingers curling around the sheath of the knife. I had to maneuver it so I could grab the hilt and get to the weapon.

His nostrils flared, and I could see how tightly his hands were clenched into fists. I hoped my words hurt. I hoped they cut deep.

I still had my hand tightly around the hilt of the knife. I didn't want to use it. But I would. I would not be a victim again. I wouldn't allow someone to overpower me.

"You fucked everything up. My father nearly died. And you shit on my fucking reputation, and I've had a lot of time to think about this, you bitch."

Faster than I could anticipate, he was charging at me. I opened my mouth to scream, but he slapped his hand over my lips viciously, his body pressing me forcibly to the wall.

My head cracked back against the cinderblock, and I groaned as the pain sliced through my skull. The sound was muffled as stars danced in front of my vision.

My bag slipped off my shoulder, but he shifted, pressing further into me, securing the strap between our bodies.

His mouth was right by my ear as he hissed, "I'm going to fuck you up the same way you fucked up my life. I'm gonna make you bleed in the worst way possible, rip away all that fucking innocence that you cling to. And when I'm done with you, you'll be crying and shivering in the corner, wanting the fucking psychopath you live with." He bit my earlobe hard enough I screamed behind his hand. "And then I'm going after him. No amount of time will heal the wounds I give you."

As my vision cleared and the sting in my head faded, his words sank in. I could see myself exactly how he described, pictured the destruction caused within me.

I wasn't weak. I was strong. He was about to find out just how much.

He leaned back and snapped his teeth at me, the bruising on his face seeming far more intense the closer he was.

"First, I'm gonna break your nose like that fucking prick did to me. Then I'm going to snap every one of your fingers." He dropped his voice low. "And when you've finally had enough—or thought you had—I'm going to gorge myself between your thighs until the blood runs down your legs."

He didn't even get that last word out before I was pulling out the knife. I had the blade pressed to his throat, and felt sadistic satisfaction as his eyes slowly widened. And I let my grin spread as I leaned into him, the blade so sharp and precise, it cut into his flesh smoothly.

"It looks like the only one who's going to have their blood spilled is you, you son of a bitch. Now get your fucking hands off me." He loosened his hold on me, but I kept pushing forward, digging that knife further into his neck.

It wouldn't take much more for me to cut into his jugular. I'd be covered in his blood. It would be messy and inconvenient, but a very dark feeling surged through me.

"Here's what's going to happen." I moved forward, and he took one step back, trying to take the pressure off of where the knife was pressed to his neck, but I wasn't going to let him.

I was too high on the power right now, too drunk off the control I had.

"All your secrets are going to burst open. You're nothing but an infection. Every single one of those girls you assaulted is going to look you in the face and tell the world what a piece of shit you are."

His eyes narrowed and his hands lifted.

"Now, now. Don't even think about it." More blood dripped down his neck, and I was riveted to the sight. "You're gonna be my bitch now, Trevor." I dug the knife in harder and he gasped, his skin opening up. I didn't cut him deep enough to nick anything vital, but it would leave a scar.

"You fucking crazy bitch."

I felt a grin spread across my face as a hysterical laugh spilled out. "I'm not crazy and I'm not a bitch. I'm tired of taking people's shit, especially yours."

With that, I pushed him away with the blade and he stumbled back, his hand flying to the side of his neck.

"If you come near me again, if I hear you went near another girl again without her consent…" I stepped forward and held up the bloody blade. "I'll cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat."

He muttered, "Crazy bitch," under his breath before turning and leaving. I stood there for a long time. I felt myself starting to slowly unravel. And this heaviness settled over me.

I shoved the knife in my bag and braced a hand on the wall, stumbling into the bathroom, thankful no one was around. I was about to freak out, scream, tear at my clothes to get the stench of Trevor's blood off me.

Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, and I went to the sink and stared at my hands. They had his blood on them, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

I washed for so long and so hard. By the time I shut the water off, my hands were raw and red but blissfully clean.

I took a steadying breath and then exhaled, knowing I had to get outside because Bruno would be waiting for me. I didn't want him to have an excuse to come inside and look for me.

That wasn't the kind of attention I wanted.

I dried my hands, adjusted my bag, and gave myself one more lingering look in the mirror.

I told myself to find that inner strength and hold on to it.

And so I gripped the hell out of it until there was no way it would leave.

Never again.