“Care to enlighten me?”
I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell anyone. “No…I can’t talk about it right now.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “You should go. He’s gonna be here any…”
Hades appeared in the doorway, ice-cold at the sight of his former friend. He entered the room with a defensive posture and looked down at the man he’d marked as an enemy. His eyes were filled with loathing. Silently, he stood there.
Damien stayed in the seat and met Hades’s gaze. He was apologetic, but he continued to hold his unbreakable attitude. The two men were wolves, not attacking, but always watching.
Hades was still as a statue. “Don’t bother my wife.”
Damien slowly got to his feet.
Even though I was overwhelmed by my news, I still fought for Damien. “He’s not bothering me.”
Hades didn’t look at me. “Well, he’s bothering me.”
Damien held his gaze for a second longer, his hands resting in his pockets. “Look, I said I was sorry, and I meant it…”
Hades lost his shit right on the spot. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sorry. My wife was raped, and I almost died to save her. All because you don’t know how to fucking listen. I almost lost the most important thing in the world because you’re like a child. I had to keep one eye on you at all times. You think an apology is gonna make Sofia forget what happened to her? What happened to me?” He started to move toward Damien, as if he was going to punch him in the mouth.
I grabbed Hades by the arm and kept him against me. “I don’t blame Damien.”
He yanked his arm out of my grasp. “I do. And if he doesn’t get the hell out of here, I’m gonna beat him to within an inch of his life and leave him in the field where he found me.”
Damien looked at Hades, watching his nostrils flare with rage. He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t try to smooth things over. He didn’t even look mad at the threats. Instead, he looked heartbroken, like he was about to cry just the way Hades had cried the other night. He bowed his head and headed to the door. “I’m sorry.” He stopped in the doorway and didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry for everything.”
15
Hades
I knew Damien was sorry.
But I didn’t give a shit.
Every time I looked at him, all I could think about was what happened to my wife. What happened to me. My world crashed down around me, and instead of breaking the curse, I prolonged it.
I would suffer in this hell forever.
Damien needed to remain in my life because we needed to dispose of Maddox together. We would have to cooperate and collaborate if we hoped to achieve that. Putting aside our differences seemed easy in theory. But in real life, it was impossible.
I took Sofia home, and we sat in silence in the back seat. She had been calmer around me before, and we’d even shared a spectacular kiss in her office. But all that magic had been wiped away after Damien emerged. I tried not to let his presence spoil that small victory, but it was difficult.
Normally, Sofia would tell me that I was being too harsh with Damien, that I needed to calm down and forgive him. But now, she looked out the window, so quiet it was like I wasn’t even there. Like that kiss never happened…or at least, it seemed that way.
We returned to the house and entered our bedroom. Sofia immediately walked into the bathroom, and a moment later, I heard the water running to fill that bath. The door remained closed, and she didn’t come out for several hours.
I sat on the balcony in the freezing cold air, my expensive suit still on, and I thought about how Sofia’s attitude had completely flipped. She judged me for my cruelty, but she had no idea how hurt I was. My best friend fucking betrayed me. It wasn’t intentional, but it was still a betrayal nonetheless.
How could she think less of me?
My relationship with Damien was none of her business. Just as her relationship with her mother was none of mine.
I stewed in my anger for hours, unaffected by the cold air. I never got sick, so that wasn’t a concern. I needed the cold temperature to freeze the rage in my temples. Sometimes I wondered if I put the blame on Damien so I wouldn’t have to feel the burden myself. She was my wife, so I was responsible too.
But I was too traumatized to accept that fact.
It was easier to blame him.
I wanted to storm into the bathroom and demand her affection, like she could just turn it on with the press of a button. I was frustrated because I wanted her so much—not just physically, but emotionally. I’d gotten a taste of it when she grabbed the front of my suit and pulled me in for a kiss.