I never hit the floor. Hades catches me. The place where he’s touching me hums like an electric current.
“Pay attention.” A cool command. “If you hit your head on the furniture, you won’t be of any use to me.” He wraps his other huge hand around my waist and pushes me backward. This time, the landing is a soft one—plush and overstuffed. It does nothing to calm me. His dog is between us, guarding. A growl rumbles in his throat. Wolf. He’s more like a wolf—too big and powerful to be a pet.
“Conor.” One word, and it’s like I never existed. Conor is the color of midnight and strong, not an ounce of extra fat on him. When Hades says his name, his growl stops. He crosses the train car, nails clicking on the floor, and curls up in front of the fireplace. The fireplace. A low fire burns in a grate by the train’s outer wall.
I have the distinct sensation of the sun going behind a cloud. It makes perfect sense. Hades is not the sun, and he’s not the moon. He is total darkness, a place no light can touch.
Hades moves through the train car. He stops to pat Conor’s head, which gives me time to catch my breath. At the edge of a desk, he removes one of his cufflinks. The desk has clearly been made to fit him—sturdy polished wood, gleaming in the firelight, a deep, dark color with a hint of red.
The other cufflink is next. Hades drops them both on the surface of the desk with a muffled metallic click. The desk must be bolted to the floor. Everything in here must be bolted to the floor, because it all sways with the movement of the train. It would have been a different ride in the dusty interior of the next car, sitting on that hard bench. This car must’ve been built to his specifications, so Hades, the man I’ve sworn to do anything for, moves in complete comfort. Every detail could have sprung from his bones fully formed. The rich paneling on the walls. Deep green-gray furniture, the hue of the summer grass at night. He turns from his desk and undoes the buttons of his jacket. Slips it from his shoulders. My heart stops. Stutters to a start.
Behind the desk is a door. Past the door is the corner of a bed, done up in sheets the color of his suit. My stomach clenches, and I dig one hand into the armrest on this—what is it? A small sofa.
Hades pauses by a set of built-in cabinets and touches one of the slats. It rolls up to reveal a full bar—glasses and bottles of alcohol. My mother kept wine in the house, but this is not wine. The amber liquids are in unmarked bottles. I bet he has that specially made too.
He pours himself a glass like I’m not there. Hades watches me while he sips it.
“Still paying attention?”
“Yes.” I sit up straight. It’s sick—how hard I’ve been trying to do what he says. How hard I’ve been paying attention to this man and his dog, both of whom could be the end of me right now. All it would take is one decision from him. A snap of his fingers.
I don’t want him to make me wish I was dead. I really don’t. I don’t want him to be the man I know he is. And some small part of me knows that even if I obey him flawlessly, it will never, ever change him.
It’s not up to me to change him. It’s up to me to pay what I owe.
For Decker.
Tears fill my eyes at the thought of Decker’s body dangling uselessly in the air, his feet kicking more slowly with every second.
“I’m paying attention,” I confirm.
“Good. Then we’ll begin.”
I lick at dry lips, folding my hands into my lap. Oh, God. Oh, God. I thought I talked myself down from the panic before but it comes on again, thick and suffocating. A thousand questions wither on the tip of my tongue.
Hades sits on the wider sofa across the train car, feet planted on the ground, glass cupped in the palm of his hand. He takes a sip and surveys me, eyes cold. I’m afraid of those eyes. A shiver crawls down my spine. My heart races, thrashing around inside my ribcage, screaming to get out. Just start already, please, please, please. I open my mouth to let the plea slip out into the air, but Hades speaks first.
“Come here.”
Already, the sofa has come to represent the safest place in the room. Ridiculous. I’m not safe because of the sofa. A firework explodes, sending shards of shame through every part of me, and I get to my feet. My knees start up again, going loose and useless, and I have to lock them to stay upright. Don’t faint. I unlock them, rocking them forward an inch. Just move.
I take the first step, and Hades holds up a hand.
“Not like that, sweet thing.”
I don’t know what he means. There’s no other way to get across the floor except by walking.
Unless—
I don’t know what he means, and then suddenly, awfully, I do.
“I—I’m wearing a dress.”
A glint in his eyes, and I want to clap a hand over my mouth. I’m here because of my reckless words, and now I’m going to end up without a dress. He’ll see everything. The linen tank I have a hundred of. Had. The… the white panties. Oh, God, no. And on top of this—on top of it all—I have to crawl past the dog with the scariest teeth on the planet. Conor.
“So you do understand.” He laughs, that same sound that burns my cheeks. “Come here.”
I drop to my knees onto the plush carpeting, which still carries the scent of a lightly perfumed cleaner, something like clean laundry. Before I can stop myself I dig my hands into it, eyes burning.
“Don’t hide your tears.” I look up into Hades’ face, and his intense gaze is changed, brightened. He’s enjoying this. “I want to see them all. Keep that pretty chin up while you crawl to me.”
My hands are cement blocks, my knees totally ineffectual, but I put one palm after the other, one knee after the other, while hot tears slip down to clean carpet. At the last moment, he points between his legs.
I’ll never make it. I’ll never be able to make myself do this, not with humiliation sloshing over every last inch of me.
And the most humiliating thing of all?
It’s not every last inch.
Between my legs, desire builds with every sway of my hips and every press of my palms into the carpet.
I stop between his legs and look up at him, trying to keep my breathing even. Hades reaches down and puts a hand under my chin, jerking my head up another inch, peering down at me. That filthy, hidden part of me sighs with relief even as the rest of me recoils. I have to let him do this—for Decker. But I cannot feel anything but hatred about it. I can’t.
Hades smiles, and I can’t tell which parts of me have gone cold and which parts have gone hot. All I know is I want him to let go, to let me go. Yes. That’s what I want. That’s what I need, and I don’t need anything else.
“You took too long, but you get extra points for crying. I fucking love that.” His teeth scrape at his bottom lip.
“Can I go back to the sofa now?” Another tear works its way free, my heart throbbing. This is enough for now. It has to be enough for now.
“Do you really think I’m done with you? Tell the truth.” The simple words have the same character as curses. He leans down, the scent of him surrounding me. “Tell me now.”
“No,” I choke out. “I didn’t think…. I only thought, since—”
“Shut your pretty little mouth.”
I snap my lips closed.