I suppressed it all when I was serving in the military. In those days, I could focus on everything but the crazy desire I had to indulge in my art. My dad used to tell me that scribbling on a page would never work as a career. I wasn't talented enough or confident enough. He pushed me into signing up because he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. Now I'm left with memories that I can never wipe away, and the urge to be creative is still in me. But how can I be when I'm part of this group? They need me to be part of Steel 7, and I wouldn't want to be apart from them. Returning home for anything other than the holidays would push me over the edge. My dad is still the same cantankerous asshole that he was when I was growing up. Drying my hands and face on a paper towel, I take a deep breath, readying myself to face the music.
When I finally return to the table, the drawing is no longer visible, the plates have been cleared, and it seems that the check has been paid. Everyone rises, ready to move on to the next part of the day, and I follow, grateful not to return to questioning looks or worse.
It's as though everyone knows that mentioning what happened could push me over the edge.
The cars take us to a steep road that runs next to the Acropolis, and all the way, I'm taking mental pictures of a city I would love to return to at another time when I can meander and drift through the mix of ancient and modern. Where I can sit and find ways to capture the sights through my own fingers. The sun's intensity has reduced as we make the slow climb to one of the world's wonders, a magnificent ancient temple set atop the highest point of Athens.
It's spectacular.
Luna stays close, always making sure to position herself between us, never leaving, or allowing herself to become exposed. It makes it easier for us to keep her safe, but something about the timid way she walks and her slightly curved shoulders fills me with unease. For all her anger yesterday, Luna's been changed by the incident in Berlin.
The tour guide talks to us with great speed and animation about the people who built the temple, the artistry, and the craftsmanship. We stand before sculptures that I wish I could sit and sketch, and take in views of the city that blow my mind.
"This is so beautiful," Luna says, pointing to the statues that form pillars to a building. Her eyes meet mine in a silent acknowledgment of my interest in art. "I bet you could draw an amazing picture of these."
Shrugging, I try to brush off her comment, not wanting her to think about the drawing again. "I'm a bodyguard, not an artist."
"You can be both," she tells me. "I'm a dancer and a singer."
"And a woman," Mo says. "A sister and a daughter."
"I'm better at being a singer and a dancer," she says, stepping closer to stare up at the carved women's faces. "Do you think these are based on real women?"
"Who knows." Mo rubs his beard thoughtfully.
"Maybe they were. Maybe they were entertainers just like me."
"Maybe they were the wives of the sculptors?" I say.
"More likely to be their mistresses." Jax grins, and the Greek tour guide laughs.
"I'm so happy we came to see this today," Luna says, pivoting gracefully on one foot to take in the whole sight in a turn that feels as though it's part of a dance. "It's made me want to properly travel the world one day and take in all the sights. When this tour is over, there is no way I'm just going back home. I want to spread my wings." She holds her arms in the air, the warm breeze that drifts across us disturbing the strands of hair around her face.
"You look like a goddess," the guide says. "Like Nike herself."
"Aphrodite," Mo mumbles.
The guide pats him on the shoulder, nodding knowingly. "The goddess of love, huh?"
Luna rolls her eyes. "There's not much in the way of love in my life."
Making a tutting noise in his throat, the tour guide steps closer, pressing his hands to Luna's cheeks like you would a child. "My darling, you are so young. Love comes to all of us. Maybe it doesn't stay forever, but it comes. Don't you worry about that."
When he lets go, there's a glassiness to Luna's eyes that hurts my heart.
The tour continues, but even when we're home, and Luna is asleep, I can't help but remember how sad she looked at the discussion of love.
10
LUNA
The layout of the hotel in Athens is different from Berlin. Here, I have my own room that is flanked by adjoining rooms for my bodyguards. I don't feel as safe with this setup, even though they're close by, so I ask Connor if whoever is taking the nightshift can stand outside my door in the hallway.