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Helios forced his head to move even though pain had his vision weaving around him. Trying to focus, he saw that it was Christos who had spoken, the aloof twenty-year-old who Kellion liked to leave in command in the event that all the officers were out. Kellion said that Christos seemed to be following in Helios’ footsteps, with the way he hated having anything to do with people outside the club.
Knowing that he was being asked to issue a command, Helios fought to keep himself conscious before slowly shaking his head. He would figure some way out of this. One way or another, he would get himself out of this while staying normal.
But goddammit, why had no one told him how much it sucked to be a normal man?
When the Sfagi realized that none of the Afxisi was going to lift a finger to help their ex-President, their arrogance returned in full force.
“You’re not going to ask for help, is that it? You’re the big bad President and you don’t think you need anyone’s help to get out of this alive?” The leader of the Sfagi laughed. “Be a martyr if you want. We’ll help with you it.” He looked at his men. “Won’t we, boys?”
And the beatings started again.
As the hits became impossible to count, he realized that it was indeed possible to die just by being hit with belts and belt buckles. He also realized that his family had probably paid the police to look the other way just for tonight, and the Sfagi was too stupid to realize that.
Several times, his Afxisi wanted to help him, but he forced himself to shake his head. No. No fucking way. He was going to stay normal because this was what MJ wanted—
“He’s not going to break,” one of the pudgier members of the Sfagi muttered. “I think we should just shoot him. Hit him so he won’t ever ride a bike again.”
Helios’ blood ran cold when he heard the words. No. He didn’t want that. He could stand the idea of never riding the bike by choice. But never riding because he had lost the ability to? That was hell on earth.
As the Sfagi closed in around him, Helios wondered in a painful haze if this was truly the end.All for the love of an eighteen-year-old girl, he thought, and he would have laughed if he had the strength to do so. He was Helios Andreadis, and he had allowed himself to be beaten to death because he had chosen to be—
A sound reached them, and it got louder and louder. The circle of Afxisi around them broke apart just as a bike soared into view—
Helios’ eyes widened.
Did he dare believe his eyes?
Was that really MJ he was seeing on the bike?
The Ducati landed right in front of him.
And then she was there.
MJ.
She was on her knees, tears running down her face, without a care for her life as she crawled to him. The Sfagi tried to get close to her but with every step they took, the Afxisi moved closer to them, forcing them to keep still. Some of them sensed the tide turning against their favor and tried to get out, but it was too late. The Afxisi had them surrounded.
“Helios?” she whispered.
She had used his name. He forced himself to smile, not wanting her to worry. But the effort cost him so, and he swallowed back a groan.
The pain etched on his face was something she knew a lot about. She, too, had suffered through such bouts. She didn’t know where to touch him, afraid to cause him more hurt. “Why did you let them do this to you?”
He didn’t answer.
And because he didn’t, it was an answer in itself, and more tears fell down her face. “Helios, I was wrong.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice from shaking too much that she’d end up incoherent. “I thought I wanted someone normal, but that was just my fear talking. I can’t be with someone normal when I’m not...when I’m not normal myself.”
He rasped out, “Whoever told you you’re not normal...I’ll kill them.”
Another choked laugh spilled out of her. “If you were n-normal, you would n-never have been able to save me. And if I w-were normal, I w-wouldn’t have been able to c-conquer my fear, wouldn’t have been able to come s-save you now.”
MJ wiped the tears from her eyes. “S-screw normal, Helios. I don’t want it. I’m s-sorry I forced you to change. I w-want you back. The real you. The one who started A-Afxisi. The P-President.”
Silence.
A painful groan escaped him. “Why couldn’t you have realized this before I got beaten up for you, brat?”
She laughed and cried.
