Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

ATHENA

Pacing around my room, I am fuming. I don’t know who I can trust, who just tried to kill me or if it was an accident. There is no way for me to know. My heart is racing with a mixture of rage and terror. Part of me thinks Heph sabotaged my car. He is the type, but he looked genuinely shocked. Maybe he was shocked that I was still alive? But if he did it, it’s because Perseus told him to. But I don’t think Perseus is the type to have someone else do his dirty work. I’ll have my answers soon enough, once the mechanic gets back to me, and there will be hell to pay.

In the meantime, I have another mystery that needs to be solved. I sent my PI some information from my mother’s diaries and asked him to keep looking into her death. Her later entries sound paranoid, saying things like her pills were poisoned. Someone was watching her, and she was afraid for her life. Could banishing her not have been enough for my father, or did he know I was looking for dirt on her death and took care of her before I found her?

I throw my phone across the room and let out a frustrated scream. It’s too much. It’s all too much, and I need to talk to someone about all of this. Someone I can trust. I trust my brothers, but no way can I get them involved in all this. They hated the idea of me staying here and getting involved, and I sure as hell don’t want to admit that they may have been right. My father would just have everyone killed for daring to hurt his precious Godwin daughter and then order me back to Medusa as if nothing ever happened. No… my family is off the table.

Paris, he is the first name that pops in my head. He is sweet, kind, and chivalrous. I don’t think Eros tried to kill me either, if I’m being honest, but it’s Paris whom I need right now, so I find him.

He is sitting on the back patio with his laptop open on the table, typing away.

“Hey, you got a minute?” I run my fingers through his short hair.

“For you, of course.” He closes his computer and pulls me down onto his lap. “How are you?”

“Scared,” I answer honestly, leaning into him, letting his body heat soothe my nerves.

“I bet that was… intense.”

I don’t really reply to that. There is nothing to say.

“How do I make you feel better?” he asks, kissing my shoulder and holding me tighter.

“I don’t know. I’m thinking about hiring a bodyguard.” I’m not considering this. The words just fell from my lips, but it is a good idea. I have to stay here, but I don’t know if I can if I don’t feel safe.

“No one is going to hurt you while you are in this house. I don’t think any of the guys messed with your car, but if it will make you feel better, whenever you go out, I’ll be your bodyguard.” He kisses my cheek then whispers in my ear, “I will keep you safe.”

“Really? You would do that?” I move out of his arms so I can look him in the eye. “What if it means going against your friends?”

“Without hesitation.” There isn’t a hint of a lie on his face. He means every word.

“Why? What changed between the day you met me when you instantly hated me, to now?”

Paris rubs his jaw while he thinks about his answer. I wait patiently, wanting him to think about this. I want the truth, but I know it can take a moment to put such a sudden, complex shift into words.

“I got to know you,” he eventually says. “When you came here, we all assumed you were just here to steal the money Freya left to Perseus. Now that we have really talked and gotten to know each other, I know that isn’t you. I know you came looking for your mother because you needed answers. I also know you are stubborn as fuck, much like your mother. If Perseus hadn’t challenged you when you first met, and instead talked to you like a person, I think you would have let him have it all. Except for maybe your mom’s personal diaries and a few mementoes. Thankfully, Perseus is as stubborn as you are.”

“Thankfully?”

Paris gives me a slow smile and nods. “I guess I am a little thankful for all this bullshit and drama. If civility had won out over hot heads, then you wouldn’t be living here, and I might not have gotten the chance to know how amazing you are.” He looks at me with his bright eyes shining through his glasses. “And I have enjoyed getting to know everything about you. So let me protect you. Let me keep you safe from the monsters under your bed.”

He pulls me in for a slow feverish kiss that leaves me gasping for more. I don’t know what happened with the others, but Paris doesn’t seem worried about his friends walking in on us making out. Part of me wonders if this is his way of staking a claim on me in front of the others, or just showing that he doesn’t see me as the enemy anymore.

After a while, Paris tells me he must go home to check on his mother. She’s been sick lately. But he won’t leave until I promise him I will stay inside the mansion for the rest of the night. There is another party tomorrow, so I swear to him I’m going to stay in to make sure everything is ready. He kisses me again at the front door before leaving for the night with his computer tucked under his arm.

“Well, that was a hot kiss. Where’s mine?” Eros’s voice comes from behind me, making me jump.

“You don’t get one.” I push past him and start heading for my room.

“Hey”—he grabs my arm to stop me from going upstairs—“stop for a second. I just want to talk to you.”

I pull my arm from his hand. I don’t think he’s the one that messed with my car, but I can’t be sure. “So, talk.” My words come out harsher than I mean them, but with Paris leaving me here with the rest of the men who may all want me dead, I’m on edge.

“I just wanted to see if you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. Is that it?”

“You’re fine? Then you have bigger balls than I do. I would be terrified if I thought someone was trying to kill me.”

“Are you?” I ask.

“Am I what?”

“Trying to kill me?”

Something almost like hurt flashes across his eyes.

“No, I’m not.” His voice is hard now. “I wouldn’t hurt you. I thought you knew that.”

“I know nothing about you other than how you sext.” I shrug. “To you, I’m nothing but a distraction while you bide your time for this shit show to be over.”

He says nothing and clenches his jaw as he turns away.

Guilt twists in my stomach as I watch him walk away from me. But it’s the truth. I don’t really know him. Yeah, we stay up most nights sending each other dirty messages, but that’s it. We haven’t talked about our personal lives, where we come from, what we want. It’s all sex. So how can I know if he cares about me or it’s an act to let my guard down?

I go back to my room and think about it. Do I trust Eros? I want to. I really do, but all I know about him is he is dominant and sexy as sin. And, apparently, he has several fetishes he likes to explore mostly on the darker side. His words make my body ache for the things his texts promise. That is all surface level for him. I know so many men like that who hide their true motivations under charm and sex. I can’t afford to let him do that to me.

The rest of the night, I spend going through more of my mother’s journals. Once she says how she misses the lavish parties she used to throw for my father’s business. For her, it was an escape from the dull, colorless drudgery of the day to day. You got to dress up, pretend to be a better version of yourself with people being the bright-shiny versions of themselves. For her, a party was an explosion of color and wonder, with people there to mingle, laugh, gossip, eat, and celebrate everything life is.

For me, the parties are nothing but a chore. A task. A means to the end.

I’m not sure if I agree with her sentiment, but from now on, I’m going to try to see these parties through her eyes. Maybe it will help me understand the woman who was taken from me.