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“Dude,” Apollo says. “You don’t have to go to bat for your father-in-law. This is all in good fun.”
“I’m not going to bat forhim. And he’s not my father-in-law.”
“Shit. Right. Your girlfriend.”
I close my eyes and concentrate on not strangling him with the band.
“He took us to the farmhouse where they grew up.” Ares, coming in so fucking clutch with the change of topic. “Has he told you about that?”
“I didn’t want to know.”
And I couldn’t ask. I was so angry for the first six months, and it never went away, not even when the charges were dropped and my life was alife. Being angry had kept me alive for five years on the street. I couldn’t put it down because I had a bed and a bedroom and nice clothes.
The only thing that ever shut it off was Ollie dying right in front of me. It became a dead thing along with him.
“You could talk to him about it,” Ares says, like it’s simple.
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because he offered to tell me about it when I got here, and I couldn’t ask. And now it’s too fucking late.”
“The paperwork says it’s never too late,” Apollo says.
“What fucking paperwork?”
“The paperwork that says you’re in the family. Zeus adopted you, the same as us.”
“I know that.” I knew that. Didn’t I? I fucking knew that. I knew it in some part of my mind. I had to have known that. But I didn’t believe it. “I’ve never seen whatever papers you’re talking about.”
“They’re in his office.” Ares shifts his weight from foot to foot. “In the top drawer of his desk. The one on the left. In case you ever wanted to look.”
“Is there a point to all this, or are you here to drive me out of my mind?”
“Why aren’t you going to the mountain?” Apollo asks, blunt.
“Because.”
They both wait. I do ten more reps. Switch arms. Switch back. New exercise. They all blur together by now. They’re all fucking pointless, because none of them is going to save Daisy.
“Because…why?” Ares meets my eyes in the mirror. “We thought it was the family thing. You’re allowed to go there. You’ve…you’ve been there, haven’t you?”
“A couple times. Yeah.”
“So if your girlfriend is, like—” Apollo starts.
“Those were before.” I instantly regret saying this. I don’t want to talk about this with Ares and Apollo. I don’t want to talk about it with anyone, but least of all these people who might, in a legal sense, have a point about being my brothers.
It’s not a good idea to be brothers with anybody. That’s what we called each other in the Army. That’s what I called Ollie, and it did him no good in the end. It won’t do Ares and Apollo any good, either.
And Zeus—I don’t know about him. It would probably be best if he got himself out of the habit of thinking he had three sons, or pretending to have three sons, or whatever the fuck he’s doing until he starts regretting me.
“Before what?” Ares prompts.
“They werebefore. It’s different now. End of discussion.”
“Yeah, right. Before what?” He’s moved in, a glint in his dark eyes. Apollo is pretty, but Ares goes out of his way to look softer than he is. Gentler. Less dangerous. He’s stopped doing it. “Say it, Herc. It’s us.”
