by Staci Hart
Kiki’s eyelids fluttered, and she stirred.
Kat looked up at Dillon. “Someone will be here any minute. I called my father.”
Dillon frowned. “Your father? Why?”
“He’s Yakuza.”
His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, Kat. What the fuck?” His neck bent forward at her, disbelieving. “Yakuza? As in Japanese mafia?”
Kat nodded and pulled out her phone.
Dillon turned his stare on Owen. “Did you know?”
Owen looked apologetic. “I swore I wouldn’t tell you.”
Dillon raked a hand through his hair and muttered to himself. “Fucking Yakuza?”
Kat’s hands shook as she called her father.
“Katsumi, are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Papa. He knocked Kiki out, but I think she’s going to be okay. And … ”
“What do you need, Masume?”
“Eric is dead.”
He paused. “You need to leave. Call me and tell me where to find you.”
“I’ll text you the address.”
“Go. Now. I will send a doctor.”
“Okay, Papa.”
“Katsumi?”
“Yes?”
“You are sure you are all right?”
Kat’s eyes met Dillon’s, and she felt relief that she hadn’t ever felt before. It was over. “I’m all right.”
———— Olympus ————
Ares sat with his head in his hands amongst the wreckage of his room, his back against the wall, his smashed couch in pieces all around him. The elevator dinged, and when he looked up, Dita stood before him.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her face bent in pain. She wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath that shuddered in her chest.
Heff limped up behind her, his eyes blazing, lips flat, his entire body tense as he folded his big arms across his chest.
She slowly straightened out, dropping her hands, looking down at him where he sat numb on the ground.
“I just wanted to tell you that you can’t fucking stop me.” Her voice wavered, her eyes full of hate. “You’ll never stop me. You’ll never beat me. And you’ll never have me again. Ever.” She turned away and left the room, passing Heff, who lingered before crossing the space between them.
“I want you to know, Ares,” Heff said, his voice the calm of the center of a hurricane, “that if you ever lay a finger on her, I will hurt you. I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ll hurt you until you beg for Tartarus.” His blue eyes cut into Ares for a long moment before he turned and followed Dita out.
Ares let out a breath and opened his palm to look at his medallion. He turned it over in his hand and traced the knot from the mouth of one snake to the tail of the other, then closed his fist again. The muscles in his jaw flexed with his arm, his lip curling as he pulled back and threw it as hard as he could from his gaping window.
He closed his eyes and laid his head against the wall, his wrists hung on his knees, the night breeze blowing through his hair, and he knew he’d lost it all.
Day 14
DILLON SAT ON A BAR stool in his kitchen with his elbows on his knees as the soft light of dawn broke through the windows.
They had all sat in silence through the night, so shocked and stunned that no one seemed to be able to find words. The doctor had come and gone, and Kiki was shaken, but fine. Dillon glanced into the living room where she lay on the couch, wrapped in a blanket in Owen’s lap. Owen’s bloodshot eyes never left her as he stroked her black hair.
Kat walked down the stairs, running her fingers through her hair. She looked exhausted. They all did. Her eyes caught his, and she came into the kitchen to sit next to him.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her green eyes heavy on his.
Dillon was so filled with longing and loss that his ribs ached. “Not really.”
“I’ve never killed anyone, either. Having the gun and knowing how to use it are all the protection I’ve ever needed.”
“I had no choice. He was going to kill you.”
“Yes, he was.”
They sat in silence.
“Where have you been, Kat?”
She looked away, and his heart dropped. She didn’t want to be with him, he thought, and she answered, “Running away. Hiding. I’m sorry, I—”
“I understand,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you. Will you hear me out?”
She nodded.
“My father … there’s more to the story than him beating me. See, he would snap. And when he snapped, bad things happened.” Dillon took a deep breath, hating the story he was about to tell her, knowing that he had to. “Owen isn’t his son. But instead of just leaving my mom, he beat her. All the time. And one night, he found her walking to the subway after work and beat her to death.”
Kat’s hands flew to her mouth, and Dillon continued.
“Once she was gone, he only wanted to hurt Owen. But I knew. I knew how to push him, how to piss him off. When he wanted to fight, I picked one with him so that Owen would be safe. And, for the most part, he was. I almost beat him to death the last time he laid a finger on Owen. We haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Dillon ran a hand through his hair and looked into her wide, green eyes. “I’ve never cared about anyone enough to risk being in a relationship. I’m afraid of myself. I’m in anger management, and that helps a lot. I fight, and that lets most of my anger go. But I’m like my father. When I break, there’s no reasoning. The beast takes over, and nothing stops the beast until he’s had his fill.” He leaned forward. “But in the bar, Kat, when you touched me, when you said my name, you stopped me. The only other person who can stop me when I’m in that place is Owen. But you can, too. You … you brought me back.”
She slid off the stool and moved between his knees, holding his face in her hands as tears trailed down her cheeks. “Dillon, when I said I was sorry, it wasn’t because I don’t want to be with you.” His brows raised in realization as she spoke. “From the minute that you walked away from me, my heart has been broken. I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I know I can bring you back. I saw it. I’m not afraid of you, Dillon. What happened to you made you who you are. It made you the man who could save us.”
He slipped his hands into her hair, his voice coarse when he asked, “Will you forgive me?”
“I’ll always forgive you.”
He closed his eyes, and his pain fell away. When he opened them, he brushed his lips to hers, and he felt their lives click into place, felt their hearts fold together.
“Katsumi.”
Kat broke away from Dillon and turned around to her father, standing tall and tense in the middle of the room. “Papa.” Her voice broke, and she ran into his arms.
Dillon froze. The Yakuza boss stared at Dillon over Kat’s shoulder as he held her. Kiki unwound herself from Owen and ran to him, burying her head in his chest. He held his daughters and closed his eyes.
He stepped back and cupped Kiki’s face. “Are you all right, Keiko? Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, but her chin quivered. Katsu kissed her head.
“Katsumi, tell me why you came to New York.”
Kat ran through everything, from Eric beating Kiki in Vegas, through them leaving and starting out in New York, up to that moment. The tight line of his lips pulled flatter as he listened.
“You should have told me.” His words were heavy with disappointment, and Kat looked down.
Kiki spoke up. “Papa, Kat would have killed him in Vegas if I hadn’t stopped her. I didn’t think … I mean, I thought he wouldn’t follow us. I thought we would be safe here. I … I thought I had time.” She took a breath. “I was supposed to tell you, Papa. And I waited too long.”
“I see.” His face softened, and he touched her cheek. “Keiko, you are much like your mother. I am not happy that you kept this from me. You never should have asked this of Katsumi.
You put yourself and her in much danger.”
He turned to Kat. “You did well to protect her. I wish you had come to me, but you kept your word to your sister. I am proud of you, Katsumi.” He smoothed her hair. “Are you all right?” Kat nodded, but he saw through her and drew her into a hug. She buried her face in his chest, and he rocked her, whispering, “Shhhh, daijoubu. Daijoubu.”
Katsu looked over Kat’s head at Dillon, who stood.
He straightened up and dropped one arm. “You saved them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Katsu released Kat and walked to Dillon, assessing him. His eyes lingered on Dillon’s tattoo. “You are the fighter I have heard so much about.”
Dillon nodded.
“You have saved my daughters. That is something for which I can never repay you.” Katsu bowed deeper than his status required, the top of his head almost visible.
Dillon bowed in return. Kat stepped around her father and to Dillon’s side to wind her fingers through his. She looked up at him and smiled, and the weight of it all fell from their shoulders and away.
———— Olympus ————
The gods sat in the theater room, watching the exchange. The alarm went off, but instead of the usual ruckus, the room was quiet. Dita sat, looking small in her oversized sweater, next to Perry.
Ares leaned against the wall in the shadows at the back of the room. He uncrossed his ankles and pushed himself up, walked over to Dita, and dropped the token in her lap, looking down at her long before he turned and left the room in silence. A tear slipped down her cheek as her hand closed around the orb, full of deep, red blood, pulsing in her hand like a heartbeat.
The room was heavy from the awkward silence, and the gods began to disperse quietly. Perry slipped her arm around Dita, who laid her head on her friend’s shoulder.
“Well,” Perry said lightly, “we have two whole weeks before your next competition. I say we go back to Greece before you compete with Artemis. You’re looking pale. And skinny.”
Dita chuckled, the sound muffled through her stuffy nose. She nodded. “But first, I have to tell Adonis. Will you make sure he’s there?”
Perry pulled her closer. “I will.”
———— New York ————
It wasn’t long after Katsu had gone that Owen peered down at Kiki’s weary face. He cupped her cheeks and asked, “Do you think you can sleep?”
She nodded and curled into his chest, and he gathered her into his arms, pressing his cheek into her hair as he carried her to his bedroom and closed the door behind them.
Kat turned her face up to Dillon’s and threaded her fingers through his. She stood, and he followed as she led him up the stairs and into his bedroom.
She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to him, her eyes wide, her face open to him. She stepped back and reached down to grab the hem of her shirt, pulling it off as her black hair tumbled over her naked shoulders. She unbuttoned her pants and dropped them to the ground. It took all of his willpower not to reach for her.
Her eyes burned into him as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra and slide it down her long arms, dropping it to the floor. She hooked her fingers under the hem of her panties and pushed them down her thighs.
She stood before him, letting him take her in, and his breath caught in his chest as he did. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he had no words. She had given herself to him.
She stepped to him and placed her hand over his heart. He covered it with his own, and she smiled, her eyes brimming with tears. Her hands slipped under his shirt, and he pulled it over his head. She undressed him tenderly, then ran her hands up his chest and around his neck, stretching to meet his open mouth with her own.
Their bodies pressed together, and he ran his hands down her smooth back, her soft skin like silk under his fingers. She broke from him after a moment and led him into the bathroom, into the shower. He turned the faucet, and she reached for the soap. She worked it between her palms, the water steaming as she ran her hands over his chest, his arms, his stomach. Her hands on his body had been on his mind since they had last touched, and that moment was more than he could have imagined.
He took the soap and lathered it, then reached for her. His hands ran slowly down her neck, over her shoulders, down her arms. He kissed her deep as his hands found her breasts, his thumbs stroking her nipples, then moved down her stomach and between her legs. She pulled him against her and leaned back, bracing herself on the shower wall as he touched her, slipping his finger in again and again as he circled his thumb around her.
Her mouth broke from his and hung open, and he buried his nose in her neck as she ground her hips around his hand. She trailed one hand down his chest and wrapped it around his length, and a small moan escaped his lips. His palm pushed into the wall behind her, their foreheads touching, their lips parted, just inches from each other.
He couldn’t wait for her. He moved his hands around to her back, wrapping his arms around her waist, and she twined her hands around his neck again, the space between them gone as he lifted her up and carried her to his bed. He laid her down, her hair wet and dripping, and reached into his nightstand for a condom. He leaned over her, kissing her deep, winding his fingers into her hair, their wet bodies skimming against each other. He ripped the package open behind her head, never letting her mouth go, then placed it on his crown, and she wrapped her hand around his as they slid it on together.
She rolled him over, her hand on his chest as she raised her body over him, reaching back to hold his base as she slowly lowered her hips. Her head hung back, her wet hair stuck to her face, her eyes closed as she slowly took him into her. His hands held her thighs, and when she opened her eyes, they were on fire.
She rolled her hips around, and he watched her, his heart banging in his chest, his mind unable to comprehend that the breathtaking woman before him was his. The woman who owned him.
He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her breasts as she rode him on and on. He looked up at her as he held her hips, and she came to him, and he came to her, their eyes locked on each other as they let it all go.
Dillon woke hours later at dusk. He reached for her, but she was gone. He panicked as he looked around the room. When he saw her things were still there, he relaxed, exhaling as he slipped out of bed to find her. He pulled on gray sweatpants and padded into the living room.
Kiki and Owen lay on the couch watching television, Owen behind her with his head propped on his hand. Kiki looked like a doll, fast asleep in front of him. Owen smiled and pointed up.
Dillon walked onto the patio where she leaned on the rail, looking out at the city across the river. She wore his sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, her long legs naked. The sun was setting, and the sky was on fire as he slipped behind her, placing his hands on the rail on either side of her.
She nuzzled into him. “Hey,” she said.
He kissed her ear. “Hey. I thought for a second you’d left me again.”
She turned around in his arms and laid her fingers on his cheek, her eyes full of love and hope. “I’m not going anywhere, Dillon.”
“Promise?”
She lifted her mouth to his and kissed him long before breaking away. “I’m yours.”
Day 15
PERRY HANDED DITA A PLATE with the tallest BLT that she had ever seen on it. She sat up on her couch and laughed when she took it. “Good gods, Perry. How am I gonna eat that?”
Perry shrugged. “Just give it a good smush.”
Dita took the plate and pressed her hand on the toasted top layer, hearing the crunch of bacon and lettuce as the sandwich compressed to a more manageable size. She picked up a triangle and took a rudely large bite, closing her eyes. “Mmmmmmm. Das sho goo.”
Perry sat back, looking pleased with herself. Bisoux hopped up into her lap. “Bonjour, petit chien,” she muttered to him and patted his little head. He wiggled to get away, looking at Dita�
�s sandwich with crazy eyes.
“So,” Perry began, delicately, “are you ready to talk about Ares?”
The mouthful of sandwich felt like dirt in her mouth. She took a hard swallow and picked up her glass of water. “I don’t know that I even need to discuss it. It’s over.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Right now, yes. I want to get away from here. I need to get away.”
“I know,” Perry said, and pointed at Dita. “Finish your sandwich.”
“Okay, mom.” She took another bite.
“We can talk about it in Greece. When you’re ready. If you’re ready.”
Dita nodded. It would be cathartic to be alone with Perry, out of Olympus, away from Ares. She would get it all out. But until the whole ordeal was a little farther behind her, she didn’t want to deal.
She ate the middle out of the sandwich, leaving the crusts on the plate, and sat back with her hand on her stomach. “Gods, Perry. That was delicious.”
“You’re welcome.”
They sat in silence for a moment before Perry said, cautiously, “Adonis said he would meet you.”
Dita’s heart skipped. She had no idea how the conversation would go. She watched longingly as Perry stood to leave. “Your belly is full, and I think you could use a nap.” Perry bent down to kiss Dita’s cheek before whispering in her ear, “Good luck.”
Dita sighed when the elevator door closed. She sank down into the couch and pulled her blanket up to her chin. Bisoux nestled into her chest, and she watched a candle flicker on her coffee table as she drifted off to sleep.
Dita stood in the clearing in Elysium, the sun shining on her face, warming her hair. Adonis waited for her under the tree but stood when she appeared, his eyes full of uncertainty.
She didn’t even know how to begin, so she just said it.
“Apollo did not kill you.” She waited, watching him.
His face went blank, then bent in confusion. “What?”
