I was sitting in bed when I called Hades.
Hades picked up on the first ring. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m doing okay. But I’m getting really uncomfortable…”
His deep voice was slightly raspy, like he’d spent all day working. “I can imagine.”
“I really think he could be here any day…so maybe you should come to Rome.” I wasn’t afraid to give birth even though it was incredibly painful, but I was afraid to do it without him. I wanted Hades with me every step of the way. Not to mention, I just wanted him here. Sleeping with him had made me forget all the fights we had. Now I just missed him.
“You have a week to go.”
“I know, but I could use the help.”
Hades was quiet. He didn’t give me what I wanted or explain his trepidation.
I tried not to take offense to it, but that was difficult. “Unless you don’t want to…”
“It’s not that. I just have a lot of shit with work right now.”
“Oh…” Sometimes I forgot that he worked with Maddox every day. I lived in a different city, so I didn’t have to think about it on a daily basis. Sometimes it was easy to forget Maddox existed at all.
“But I’ll make it work. I’ll stay at the hotel down the street.”
I didn’t want him down the street. It was probably a bad idea for him to stay with me. I didn’t want him in a different room on a different street. I wanted him right beside me, especially through times like this. “I assumed you would stay with me…”
A long, awkward silence extended over the line. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sofia.”
His words cut me like a knife. “Why?”
“You know why.”
The lull in our conversation stretched because there was nothing else to say. I wanted to get my way, but arguing over the phone wasn’t the way to accomplish that. So I just let it be. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
His deep voice was reassuring. “Yeah…I’ll be there.”
9
Hades
I entered the hotel bar and saw Maddox sitting alone. It was a strange image, a very powerful man sitting alone by the window with a glass of water in front of him. The man never drank…at least not in public.
I walked through the sea of empty tables until I reached the small table up against the window. The Tuscan Rose was more overrun with shady characters than it had ever been, and if Sofia could see it, she would turn pale as milk.
I sat across from him and watched him look out the window. He seemed to be observing a group of girls walking by, holding bags of designer clothes as they ambled off together. His eyes studied them closely, like a cat stalking prey. His intentions didn’t seem sexual…they didn’t seem anything.
We hadn’t spoken since the night he’d saved my life. After that happened, I worked on my own projects and took care of business from a distance. His kindness pushed me further away than his evilness ever did.
The waitress came over and brought me a glass of scotch before she disappeared.
Maddox slowly turned his gaze on me, his expression deflated. His shoulders slumped with fatigue, and he seemed to be in a solemn mood. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and his emotions were very theatrical. When he was mad, he was really mad. When he was happy, he practically giggled. And right now, he seemed down.
I refused to ask him about his feelings. That implied I cared…and I didn’t. “I need to leave for a few weeks.”
After I spoke the words, Maddox gave me his full attention. He looked at me with crystal-blue eyes, eyes so bright they made the sky look black. Whenever he stared at me, he always seemed mesmerized, like he’d never really looked at me before. “Where?”
I hated answering to anyone. I wasn’t going to start now. “Doesn’t matter.”
Maddox grabbed his water and took a drink. Instead of taking a sip like most people, he chugged half of it, like he’d just run a marathon. He set it down again with a heavy thud. “It matters to me.”
“Personal reasons. Leave it at that.”
“If it’s personal, then you confide it to me. That’s what friends do, right?”
If only I had the audacity to grab a butter knife and shank it up his rib cage. “I’ll confide in you when you confide in me.” He never shared anything with me, not that I ever asked. I’d made the statement just to prove a point and get him to leave it alone.
“Alright.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, regarding me like a lover instead of a partner. “You killed your father, right?”
The blood slowly drained from my face.
“I killed my mother.”
I didn’t ask for the details because I assumed they were disturbing. There was an innate creepiness in the air around us, like his mother’s wounded spirit had entered the room to haunt him. But evil couldn’t be haunted.