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When I wake, the sun is dying, and long shadows fill my bedroom. In the distance, storm clouds bruise the sky. There’s a blanket over my legs and a glass of water on the bedside table.
I’m alone.
My apartment is still.
He’s gone.
My heart drops to my stomach.
Has he left for good?
I sit up. “Ares?”
He appears in the doorway, and a wave of relief washes through me.
“I thought you had gone,” I say softly.
In the dusky light, he looks big and powerful, but he’s stiff and quiet, his jaw tight.
As he moves toward the bed, I can feel his pain.
Guilt washes over me.
Oh God, what have I done?
He sits on the edge of the bed, and I ache to touch him. But he sits far enough away to tell me he doesn’t want that.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
He’s talking about Joey.
“Like my world has crashed around my ankles, and I only just realized.”
It’s a bitter pill to swallow to realize you’ve been played by your mom.
There was no hit.
She knew why Ares did what he did.
She just didn’t want to admit what her son had done all those years ago, and because of the cover-up, she would never have to. But by God, she was going to have her vengeance for her son being taken from her.
And I was her perfect little pawn.
She never got over what I did to Donnie. She never forgave me for taking her husband from her. Just like she couldn’t forgive Ares for taking her son from her. So she set me up. She used my emotions against me and rolled the dice in her new game by begging me to take vengeance on the man responsible. And what better time to draw me into her web than after watching my brother’s coffin lower into the ground? Emotional, I was ripe for the picking and stood no chance against her manipulations.
“I didn’t know he had become something dark before he died.” I lift my gaze to his. “Was it quick? Did he know?”
His jaw clenches. “It wasn’t quick.”
“Was he scared?”
“Yes.” His voice is cold and clipped. Detached. “I told him why, and then I killed him.”
Despite knowing what Joey had become, it’s still fresh, and Ares’ words hurt.
His lifts his gaze to me. “Was any of it real? The things we did?”
“What do you mean?”
