Page 33 of Hades

Cash and Kytten were different. Loud, but not in volume. Loud in love. Kytten clearly let Cash lead, but he consulted her on everything. From the way he drank his coffee so she’d enjoy it, to the way he explained why he wanted her to... obey wasn’t the right word, but that was what she did.

She didn’t do it silently, though. Sometimes that volume took over, but he’d patiently wait for her to rant and rave. Then he’d speak to her softly, in a way that radiated love. With patience and devotion. The kind of relationship that made me ache with want.

God, I wanted a love like that.

Someone who would nurture both my light and my dark. Someone who could accept the darker aspects of my soul. Someone who wouldn’t run when they discovered what I really was. What I was capable of. I wasn’t sure there was anyone out there like that for me. Men didn’t want women who poisoned people. Men wanted soft, sweet, uncomplicated.

We pulled up to the clubhouse, and Kytten’s smile fell. I reached across the seat and took her hand.

“Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not sure I should even be here. I didn’t know my grandfather. I only met him a few months ago.” Her voice was small, uncertain. Vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen from her before.

I sat silently, questions filling my mind. Questions I desperately wanted to ask but wouldn’t. I’d caught snippets of conversation. Small, fleeting sentences that spoke of mystery and darkness surrounding this family. Secrets that ran deep. Wounds that hadn’t healed.

Before she could say more, Cash was at her door. One look at her face and he said, “We can go right back to Lettie’s if you don’t want to be here.”

We waited while Kytten stared at the clubhouse. Gone was the music from a few days ago. The air was somber now. A shroud hovered over the building as if nature itself knew it was a day for mourning. The sky was gray. Heavy. Oppressive.

Kytten took a deep breath and scratched at her leg. I’d noticed her doing that often. A nervous habit, maybe. A tell. Cash gently pulled her hand into his. “You’re more important. If you want to leave at any point, just tell me.”

“You won’t let me ride the bike. You planning to walk back to Lettie’s?” she asked him.

“I’m here to support all of you. Tell me you’re ready to leave and we’ll leave,” I said, squeezing her hand.

“Thank you.” Kytten smiled and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Mimic stood outside the truck, his hand holding Indie’s, but his eyes were fixed on his sister.

“Together, Rose,” Mimic said quietly.

“Together,” Kytten repeated.

I couldn’t help but wonder why everyone except Cash, Mimic, and Diana called her Kytten. Even her father used the nickname, and I wondered if he’d given it to her. Another mystery. Another secret in a family full of them.

We followed the crowd around the clubhouse to the cemetery set back from the main grounds. A single person stood by the open grave, and I knew it was Rhea. I couldn’t imagine the pain she was feeling after losing her husband of so many years. The grief that must have been crushing her. Suffocating her.

Bane and Diana met us on the way, and Bane immediately went to his daughter’s side. “You okay, baby girl?”

“I’m okay, Dad.” She smiled up at him, and he pulled her into a hug, Cash refusing to release her hand. “Are you okay, Mom?”

“I am, Rose,” Diana answered with a sniffle, but the look on her face spoke of an untold pain no one else carried. Something deeper. Something raw and bleeding.

I felt a nudge at my hand and looked down to find Diesel. I was surprised to see the dog there, and it must have shown on my face because Aspen said, “I don’t go anywhere without Diesel.”

“Anywhere?”

She shook her head. “If he can’t come with me, I don’t go.”

I thought about Cerberus. There weren’t many places I went without him, except the stores in town. I’d left him at home today, much to his and my mother’s disdain. He’d looked at me with those dark eyes, betrayed. Abandoned. And my mother had made her displeasure known in her typical fashion.

She still hadn’t left her room. Not even to say hello to our guests. She refused to even meet them, but at least she’d been quiet. The jimsonweed tea was keeping her docile. Exactly how I needed her.

I stood at the back of the group, close to the new friends I’d made. Mimic and Indie stood with me. The two of them were clearly on the outside, though I wasn’t sure why. Outcasts among family. A position I understood all too well.

Apollo sat in his chair at the front of the group. He spoke about Kronos and the life he’d led. He talked about how he’d started the club, but something in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Something hard. Something angry.

Anger was part of the mourning process, but this anger didn’t feel like it stemmed from Kronos’ death. More from his life and the way he’d lived it. Everything Apollo said celebrated what Kronos had done for his family, for the club, for the town. The words were pretty, but the tone was all wrong.