“Hey. Over here.” The voice sounded closer, and I looked to my right just as Trevor lifted his hand and waved me over.

  Even if I wanted to move closer to him, there were too many people crammed close to me.

  “Hey, move out of the fucking way,” Trevor shouted but was laughing as he lifted the bottle of vodka he held. The surrounding people yelled, clapping him on the back.

  I couldn’t even hear myself think over how loud the music was. The heat was oppressive, and I couldn’t breathe. I wanted out of here. I wanted to leave and curl on my bed and bask in the stillness, the silence.

  How crazy was it that I now craved the quiet?

  Trevor was right beside me a second after, his bigger body up in my space as he pressed his shoulder to mine.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.” He shouted to be heard over the music. A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead, and his eyes were red-rimmed and glossy.

  I smiled and shrugged, not sure what to say in response.

  He brought the vodka bottle to his mouth and took a long drink. When he pulled it away, there was only about a fourth left. Trevor tipped it in my direction, and I shook my head, declining.

  Trevor finished it, and I lifted my eyebrows. It felt like they were all the way to my hairline.

  He showed me the empty bottle and grinned, his cheeks red, the stench of all the booze he’d consumed wafting around him. I was pretty sure at this point he was sweating vodka.

  A few guys came up and started talking to him, and I looked for Sophia, but she’d moved more toward the center of the room with Jacqueline and Ariel.

  Before I knew what was happening, Trevor grabbed my wrist and was pulling me away from the wall.

  “W-what? Hey. Wait,” I shouted, hoping he heard me, but he either didn’t or didn’t care.

  Trevor glanced over his shoulder and grinned, his eyes taking on this heavy-lidded look as he eyed me up and down. My skin tightened and prickled. I didn’t care for the way he kept hold of my hand, and I tried to pull away.

  “Just trying to get away from the crowd so it’s quieter. I can’t even fucking think in here.” He kept walking, his fingers gripping my wrist so tightly it was bordering on painful.

  “Trevor, let go.”

  He rounded a corner, then another before we made it to a more secluded back hall where he finally let me go. I stepped back several feet and rubbed my skin, glaring at him.

  “What the hell? I asked you to let me go.”

  He ran a hand over his face. His gaze swept over my breasts, my belly, and lower still before he dragged them back up to my face.

  “I’m sorry,” he slurred. “I drank way too much of my father’s vodka.” He started laughing and came closer. “I’m so glad you’re here. We don’t really have time to talk at school.”

  I kept rubbing my wrist and watching him, but he just stood there staring at me with this almost goofy smile on his face.

  “I should probably get home. This isn’t really my scene, if I’m being honest.”

  “Nah, stay. Please?” He gave me this faux pathetic look as he came closer.

  “No, I think I should probably go. I’ll call a Ride Share cause Sophia brought me, but she’s getting trashed.” Before I could even get that last word out, Trevor was in front of me, boxing me in.

  With my back to the wall and him in front of me, I suddenly felt trapped and suffocated.

  “You’re drunk,” I said and tried to push him away.

  He leaned in closer, pressing his body hard against mine so I was wedged between him and the wall. “You smell so good. Sweet. Like candy.” He moaned, and panic seized me.

  “Please stop.” He wasn’t listening.

  “I want you, Persephone. The fact you act so indifferent toward me makes me want you more.”

  I turned my head. “For real, Trevor. Back up. Give me some breathing room.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed with all my strength.

  He only moved an inch before sinking back against me, his hands braced on the wall on either side of my head.

  The party was right around the corner. So close but far enough away we were secluded in this corner of the house. It didn’t matter, anyway. Everyone was trashed. They didn’t give a shit about what was happening around them.

  “No one ever plays hard to get.” His hand crept along my waist, and I pushed at him. “They give in, like I impress them because of who my father is and how much money I have.” His voice sounded even more slurred now. “But not you.” He was breathing so hard now. “You act like you couldn’t give two shits if I paid attention to you or not.”

  Because I don’t.

  I was suffocating, unable to breathe. All I smelled was alcohol and sweat. I felt disgusted with his sticky body pressed to mine.

  The heat was oppressive, and I gave another shove against him.

  But before I knew what was happening, he gripped my wrists and pressed them hard against the wall.

  I was so shocked by the sudden act of violence, by the snarl on his face, that all I could do was stare up at him in shock and disbelief.

  “You’re scaring me,” I whispered, hating that I allowed fear to take hold instead of anger.

  And just like that, his anger vanished. That was when I knew without a doubt Trevor wasn’t who I thought he was.

  Although I didn’t need to see his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act to know he wasn’t the easygoing—maybe even a little shy at times—guy I’d first met.

  He clearly didn’t give a shit about my consent.

  “Let me go. You’re hurting me, Trevor.” I tried a different tactic. Placating. Soft demeanor. His grip was unforgiving, and I knew there’d be bruises on my flesh.

  “Just let me taste you,” he said as he started leaning in. But I had nowhere to go, not with the heavy weight of his body pressing into me.

  “Get the fuck off,” I yelled, but the sound was drowned out by the heavy bass of music. I tried lifting my knee to kick him in the crotch, but I couldn’t get enough room to bring my leg up.

  And then I heard this sudden commotion. Shouting and yelling. A deep, muffled voice, followed by vulgar swearing.

  “Where is she, you little motherfuckers?”

  My heart pounded, as the deep voice that roared out was familiar. I instantly felt relief.

  There was a crash and a bang, which drew Trevor’s attention enough that he looked over his shoulder.

  But he still kept his body pressed to mine, locking me in.

  I turned my head, and just when I thought he’d kiss me, lick me, or do some other disgusting, forcible act, his body was suddenly wrenched away from me.

  Hades had his hand around Trevor’s throat and had him pressed against the wall across from us. He towered over Trevor, like a massive redwood. All hard angles and roughness.

  Hades was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling, the violence and aggression barely contained. I could feel it swirling around him, slowly filling the hallway like poisonous gas.

  “What did I tell you?” Hades’ voice was controlled. Contained. But I could hear the rage seething in the undertones. “I said if you touch her again, I’d break your hands.”

  Faster than I expected, Hades slammed the back of Trevor’s hand against the wall. He howled in pain, but Hades didn’t care and clearly wasn’t done.

  He reared his arm back, all that unleashed animal strength bubbling forth, and brought his knuckles to the center of Trevor’s face. The sound of bone crunching was so sickening that bile rose in my throat.

  Trevor’s head whipped to the side so violently I couldn’t contain my gasp. There were a couple of people who congregated in the hallway’s opening, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide.

  I knew I wore the same expression.

  But no one stopped Hades. No one dared.

  The visual of blood spraying from Trevor’s mouth and nose was as beautiful as it was brutal.

  And then Hades grabbed Trevor’s other hand, and no amount of struggling compared to the power and strength that Hades wielded.

  Hades did the same with the other one, smashing it against the wall and causing a few pictures to get knocked down. They crashed to the ground, glass breaking.

  He moved back and Trevor sank to the ground, sobbing incoherently as he cradled his hands to his chest, blood pouring from his nose and down his chin.

  The knuckles were cut and bleeding, and it was very clear a few of his fingers were broken, given the unnatural angle of them.

  “Piece of shit,” Hades growled. “Just like your fucking father.”

  I was standing there panting, eyes wide, mouth slack-jawed when he turned around. Hades smoothed his hands down the front of his suit, the blood on his knuckles a stark contrast, but looking like it belonged with all those tattoos.

  He was so… ominous at that moment. I slowly slid my gaze up to his neck, seeing red splatters of Trevor’s blood on the collar of his shirt and marking the column of his tanned throat.

  He’d just broken someone’s hands and, most likely, Trevor’s nose, yet he stood there wearing an expression like it was just another day at the office.

  Hades appeared like he hadn’t just become a savage. He stepped up close, and I was frozen in place. He dipped his gaze to my wrists, and I followed his line of vision.

  The skin was red and angry, and I knew they’d show finger-sized bruises come morning.

  Hades bared his teeth before breathing out slowly, as if trying to control himself.

  “Come on, Bunny. Let me take you home before I kill the motherfucker.”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me snugly against his side, and together, we left the party with everyone staring at us with enormous eyes, slack jaws, and inaudible whispers following us.

  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.”