Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
But different in a good way.
Hopefully.
CHAPTER 7
Now, that is what I call anxiety.
-Text from Hades to Hannibal
HANNIBAL
I watched her from across the hotel pool.
She was sitting on the pool lounge by herself, with no one else around, writing furiously in a book in her lap.
It’d gotten colder.
It was now mid-way through October, and the weather had taken a turn for the worse.
The weatherman said that we were predicted to get snow in a few weeks—though, hopefully I’d be gone by then. Missouri wasn’t my favorite place to be in the world, though it was fucking beautiful.
I’d planned to go on a few hikes while I was here, but if it was snowing, I’d pass.
My old bones needed heat to work properly, and Missouri definitely wasn’t making that happen.
The wind blew, and a few stray hairs flew across Hades’ face as she continued to write. The pages of her book, held down by her hand now, continued to flap in the wind.
“Sir.”
I looked up to see the maid I’d tracked down holding the blanket I asked for out to me.
“Thank you, darlin’.” I winked.
The maid, probably all of eighteen at most, blushed profusely and said, “No problem at all, sir. Let me know if I can help with anything else.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at her words.
So eager to please.
One day she’d lose that innocence, and then the real world would slap her in the face.
She was cute, though, so maybe that would never happen for her.
But I doubted it. The world had a way of sneaking up on you and grabbing your attention no matter how hard you tried to hold it at bay.
Pushing through the door that led outside to the pool, I studied her as I walked up.
She’d changed, putting on black leggings, a black long-sleeved t-shirt, and a flannel that looked like it’d been washed to perfection.
It also fit her like a sheet.
She had it wrapped around her tight, and a tight knit cap pulled down over her hair to keep her head warm.
She heard me coming and glanced up, doing a double take.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I was coming out here so I’m not stuck in my room,” I told her. “I wasn’t aware that you owned the area, though.”
I tossed the blanket at her face, and she let out an ‘ooooph.’
Grinning, I plopped down in the chair next to her and said, “Whatcha writing?”
She took the blanket off of her lap where it’d fallen, then unfolded it and threw it around her shoulders.
“I write in my journal,” she said. “My therapist thinks that if I write in here and express my feelings, that maybe some of my frustration and anger at others might be controlled.”
“Is it?” I asked.
I’d never understood the point of therapists. I mean, logically I knew that they were needed. That some people just couldn’t function without one. But for me, that would never work.
I was too withdrawn from life to share my feelings with anyone. Sharing meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant putting my life in someone else’s hands. Something I didn’t do, not even for family members.
“Well,” Hades closed the book and said, “Hennessey Casey, my therapist, thinks that I’m doing better. She thinks I’m writing my frustrations out, but I’m more treating this like a memoir. Telling my entire life story as I remember it.”
My stomach clenched at that.
I wanted to read it.
But I’d wait to ask until she trusted me more.
“So I have something to ask you,” I said, watching her place her journal on the edge of the pool lounger and turn to me.
I waited until she’d situated herself underneath the blanket, pulling her knees up high to her chest and wrapping her arms around her upraised knees, before I said anything.
“Hit me,” she said.
Just the thought of ‘hitting her’ made my stomach lurch after her earlier words about her father abusing her.
If her father weren’t already dead, he would be dying at my hands.
I hated abusers.
After our talk at the diner, I’d taken her to the same hotel that I was staying at for the few days while I figured out what the hell I was doing.
I was fairly sure that I was taking the job.
But with the arrival of Hades, my plans had sort of changed.
They’d gone from doing this alone—which I usually did since I only ever worked by myself even though I had a company with employees that would be willing to help me given the chance—to seeing how I could work Hades into my plans.
Mostly it was because I hated seeing that look on her face. The blank one that clearly showed that she expected everyone to let her down, even me.
And I didn’t like that look.
Not even a little bit.
“I’m going to need you close for a while when I start working on whomever is trying to stalk your sister. And it would be best if I get that done while also working my other job that I agreed to take on with Vegas Royale Circus,” I started.