Hades (The God Chronicles #3)

by Kamery Solomon

  There wasn’t much laughter around these parts lately.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Did you and Stacy have a good time?” he asked, his low, soothing voice always a comfort to me.

  “Of course. It was nice to get my mind off of . . . Josh.”

  He nodded, a knowing look on his face. I’d never really been able to lie to him.

  “I’m making stew for dinner,” he continued, picking up another spud and placing it under the running water. “You get those guns cleaned and then wash up for dinner.”

  “I thought we were bringing the cows in tonight?”

  “I changed my mind,” he said, shaking his head. “There’s a coyote that’s been attacking the heard. Maybe more than one. I set some traps to catch them. We’ll leave the cows out for one more night and see if it brings them in. If not, we’ll think of something else tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll be ready in a few minutes then.”

  “No rush,” he chuckled, looking up at me. “Make sure those guns are cleaned well. And lock them back in the cabinet when you’re done.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  He started whistling a sad tune and I smiled weakly, trying not to let his heartache affect my own emotions.

  A couple of hours later, the guns were all safely locked away and I’d showered for dinner, happy to wash the dirt of the day away. I examined myself in the mirror before heading downstairs, dwelling on how so many things could be different and I still looked the same—brown eyes, in shape, and tall.

  With a sigh, I turned and left my room, hearing talking coming from the dining room.

  “It smells delicious,” I said with a big smile as I entered and took a seat at the table.

  “Yes, thank you Mr. Saul, Sir,” Andrew, the new ranch hand, said from across the table.

  “It’s my pleasure,” Daddy said, taking his seat at the head. “I like to feed the new hands on their first day. It’s my way of saying welcome to the team.”

  “If he likes you, you’ll get invited back more than once,” I laughed.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Andrew said, blushing.

  I felt a tinge of annoyance as he looked at me again, a hopeful expression on his face. It was clear I was going to have to put another man in his place. Not that I could blame him; Daddy always wanted me dressed up for dinner instead of in my jeans and boots.

  Tonight I’d worn a blue sundress, my blonde hair curled around my face. Unbeknownst to Daddy though, I’d also managed to slip on another pair of cut off shorts. I hated walking around without pants on.

  Mom used to say that it was such a waste, me being pretty. All I ever wanted to do was go out and roll in the mud, according to her. Sometimes I’d done just that so I could see the look on her face when I came home.

  Polite conversation mingled throughout dinner as Daddy asked Andrew to tell him more about his time in Arizona. It sounded a lot like here.

  As we came to the end of the meal, a yipping sound suddenly came through the windows, soft enough to not really be a bother. We all knew what it was, though.

  “Sounds like we caught ourselves a coyote,” Daddy said, wiping his mouth and standing.

  “Do you want me to go get it, Sir?” Andrew said, standing as well.

  “Sure, sure. You can come along,” he said, walking towards the front door.

  I rose from the table as well at Daddy’s look, heading up the stairs to his room and the gun case. When I met them outside, the two of them were already on their horses, a third waiting for me.

  “Are you sure you want to come, Miss Katrina?” Andrew asked uncertainly, eying the rifle in my hands.

  “Oh, Andrew,” Daddy laughed. “You have a lot to learn about Katrina here.”

  “You can start by not calling me Miss,” I said gruffly, keeping the firearm with me as I mounted my chestnut colored mare.

  “Katrina, I told you to stop wearing those shorts to the dinner table,” Daddy said disapprovingly as we headed towards the wounded sounds.

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  Chapter Two

  “Order up!”

  The cook rang the tiny hand bell on the counter, a plate of hamburgers and fries steaming beside it.

  “Thanks, Johnny,” I said quickly, picking the order up and maneuvering my way back out from behind the bar.

  Barry’s was unusually busy tonight. We’d already called in a couple extra people, including Stacy, and it still wasn’t getting the job done. Every time a table emptied, someone filled it within minutes. While it made for good tips, I didn’t care much for the high level of noise, especially from the bar section of the restaurant.

  I walked through the family friendly section, the half up by the front door, checking on my customers and filling any drinks that came up empty. When I was satisfied that everyone was well taken care of at the moment, I started weaving back through the tables and into the bar section, taking note of a few people who looked like they were ready to order.

  Ducking back behind the counter, I took a sip of my own water and grabbed a pad of paper to write on.

  “Watch out for table three,” Stacy said quietly from her waiting spot at the kitchen window as I passed by her.

  I gave her a questioning look, sneaking a quick peek in the direction she spoke of. The customers she spoke of were two men with a dangerous air about them. I didn’t know if they’d said anything to her or if she just had a bad feeling, but I didn’t have time to ask.

  The bell dinged on the counter and Johnny nodded at me as he slid a full tray forward.

  “Thanks,” I said with a sigh, picking it up and resting it on my shoulder. The bar customers would have to wait until my other order was filled.

  I hurried back into the front of the building, smiling kindly at everyone I made eye contact with. Doing the best I could was always a must for me at work, but I was having to work extra hard tonight with all the added stress.

  “Here you go,” I said kindly as I unloaded my tray at an older couple’s table. “You let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

  “Will do,” the gentleman smiled, unrolling his silverware as he spoke.

  “Hurricane!” Barry’s voice barked from behind the bar.

  “Calm down, Barry. I’m going as fast as I can.” I did my best not to put an edge on my voice, but wasn’t quite successful.

  “It’s not that,” he said with a frown. “Stacy was telling me—”

  “About table three,” I said as I grabbed my next order. “Yeah, she already told me.”

  “Not that either,” he said impatiently. “Listen for a second! A man just came in. She said he smells like vodka real bad but she was too nervous to tell him we won’t serve him any more alcohol. Can you take care of that for me?”

  “Sure. Where’s he at?”

  “He’s sitting in the back corner, by the door to the alley.”

  “Got it,” I said, slipping around him and returning my serving tray to the kitchen.

  We had people who’d been kicked out of other bars come in every now and then. Barry refused to sell to anyone who was obviously already intoxicated. Most of the time they left without a hassle, but once in a while we got a fighter who would refuse to go. The last one had been giving Veronica a really hard time and tried to hit her, he was so inebriated. So I punched him in the kidney. Ever since then, I was the one Barry turned to when someone needed to leave.

  I checked to make sure my other orders weren’t ready yet and then headed over to the corner like I’d been asked. The man wore a pair of jeans and a hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head, all black, his body slumped over on the table. Even from a few steps away, I could smell what Stacy had complained about.

  “Hey buddy,” I said, wanting to get it over with.

  I closed the distance between us, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking it hard.

  “Mister,” I said, a little louder, trying not to draw too much attention.

  Suddenly, the
man sat right up, slapping my hand away as his hood fell back onto his shoulders, revealing sandy brown hair. His face was gray and sick looking, some of the vessels under his green eyes bulging out and discolored.

  “We can’t serve you,” I said so only he would hear.

  He rubbed his forehead with his hand, a confused look on his face.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re at Barry’s Bar and Grill.”

  He stared at me blankly, looking like he was about to pass out again.

  “We can’t serve you anything,” I said again, not sure he knew what was going on. “You’re going to have to go somewhere else if you want a drink.”

  “Come on,” he said, his words slurring together. “I’m not that drunk.”

  “Uh, yeah right,” I said, grabbing his shoulder and hefting him to his feet. “You can’t even stand up on your own.”

  “Let go of me,” he said angrily, shoving me away and falling into the table, unable to stand on his own as I’d guessed.

  “Let me help you out,” I said through gritted teeth. I didn’t like being pushed around, especially when I was at work and couldn’t give a piece of my own mind.

  “You could help me out,” he laughed, his eyes drinking in my body. “But not with standing. I think we could lay down somewhere.”

  He laughed and I rolled my eyes at his drunken state. Horny Drunk was my least favorite kind, right after Mom Drunk.

  Other patrons were starting to watch uncomfortably and I saw Barry behind the counter, looking to see if I needed any help. I didn’t want to make any more of a scene.

  “Let’s go,” I said again, reaching down and pulling him to his feet, determined to get him out on my own.

  “Hey now,” he said, his breath making me gag. “I thought we were making arrangements.”

  The grip of the hand I’d grabbed tightened and he yanked me against him, cupping one of my breasts in the other hand.

  Barry was going to have to forgive me for this one.

  “You have exactly two seconds to let go of me before I break your nose,” I snarled, drawing the attention of the rest of the bar and some of the restaurant crowd.

  “Come on now, sweetheart,” he said, the odor from his breath making my vision blur. “All I want is a little kiss.”

  He squeezed my chest slightly and I exploded with rage. Throwing my head forward, I smashed into his face and heard a satisfying crunch. The guy howled in pain, releasing me to cradle his injury. Stepping back, I pulled my fist back to strike again.

  Barry grabbed me just in time, picking me up and setting me behind him, right into Johnny’s grasp.

  “She broke my nose!” the man yelled.

  “Yeah? You’re lucky it wasn’t your—”

  “Time to go,” Barry said, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him towards the side door to the alley.

  “You’ll pay!” the man said as blood ran down his face.

  “Out, now!” Barry yelled. “And don’t come back!”

  He stumbled out of the door, still cursing, as Barry apologized to the rest of the customers. Finally, Johnny released me so I could follow Barry back behind the counter.

  “Hurricane,” he sighed. “You’re going to scare the customers away.”

  “I don’t let anyone touch me that way and get away with it,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “I know, I was already on my way over. I saw everything and you had every right to retaliate. Next time try not to be so violent about it so quickly, though, okay?”

  “Fine,” I huffed, pushing past him to the plate waiting for me on the counter.

  He only gave me another warning look as I passed again.

  “I need a little break,” I said shortly.

  “Stacy, cover Hurricane’s tables while she’s on break,” he called across the noisy room.

  I delivered the food to a family table, apologizing for disturbing them earlier when I saw the horrified and worried looks on their faces. After that, I made a short trip to the bathroom to gather myself again as I washed the drunk’s stench from myself the best I could.

  I decided to spend the rest of my break in the kitchen, preferring to not have people staring at me any longer. You could only do so much when you’d just broken a man’s nose in front of them, though.

  “Hey, Hurricane,” Johnny said warmly as I entered the room. “Your head okay?”

  “It’s fine,” I chuckled. “Thanks for asking.”

  “It’s not every day you get to head-butt someone,” he said knowingly, his gray eyebrows rising humorously.

  “Isn’t that the truth,” I giggled. “How’s your wife doing? Is she handling the chemo better this time around?”

  “I think so,” he said with a nod. “You always ask. Everyone else thinks you’re a tough cowgirl who does whatever she wants, but I know better.”

  He winked at me again, flipping the patties in front of him with ease.

  “Would you take the trash out, Hurricane?” Barry asked from the other side of the counter. “Your break’s over, right?”

  “Yeah, I can get it,” I said, walking over to where the bags sat, ready to go.

  “Be safe, Katrina,” Stacy said from the other side of the counter as well. “That guy could still be out there. Maybe you shouldn’t do it.”

  “Who else is going to? You?” I laughed. “He doesn’t scare me. He could hardly stand up. I’ll be fine, promise.” I smiled warmly at her before picking a bag up with each hand and carrying it out of the kitchen.

  “Be careful,” she warned again, obviously happy I was going out there and not her.

  It only took a few seconds for me to get through the bar and out the side exit. The door slammed shut behind me and I crossed the alley, tossing the bags into the bin easily. The night air felt good against my skin after the hot inside of the bar. Closing my eyes for a second, I took a deep breath and released my tension. Once I was satisfied I could spend the rest of my shift happy and relaxed, I opened my eyes and turned around, ready to get back to work. If I was lucky, most of the families would be leaving soon and then it wouldn’t be so loud.

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  The drunk had snuck up behind me while my eyes were closed, causing me to almost run into him when I turned around.

  “Did you need me to break something else for you,” I fumed, folding my arms across my chest.

  “Not exactly,” he said, spitting out a mouthful of blood angrily.

  I heard a click and suddenly became aware that he was holding a spring loaded knife.

  My heart automatically started beating faster. I knew if I yelled for help no one inside would be able to hear me. It was unlikely that there was anyone close by who would hear me either. I only had one choice.

  I stomped on his foot and tried to grab the knife when he jerked back. I wasn’t so lucky, though, and missed, only succeeding in knocking it from his grasp and onto the ground a few feet away. Knowing I didn’t have many other forms of defense, I kicked him right where I knew it would hurt the worst, dropping him to the ground. Unfortunately, he fell right next to his weapon and grabbed it back up.

  I moved around nervously, trying to look for a way around him that wouldn’t end in some part of me getting slashed to ribbons.

  For a drunk, he was much quicker than I anticipated, getting to his feet and charging me.

  It was at that exact moment that my boots decided to slip. I fell to the ground hard, realizing that I’d lost any advantage I’d had before.

  He crawled on top of me, pinning my legs under his hips and grabbing my arms. Pulling my hands together above my head, painfully grasping them both in one hand, the blade of his knife scratched against my wrists.

  “Stop it!” he barked at me as I tried to get out from underneath him.

  It was no use, though. He was too heavy for me to shove over without my legs or hands and the grip he had on me was too strong to break.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got
, shall we?” he laughed sickly, his one free hand pulling at the tie on my shirt.

  I was doing my best to remain calm, but panic was quickly filling every part of my body. I knew very well what was about to happen, though thankfully having never experienced it before.

  “I’ll scream,” I said, trying to keep the shakiness in my voice unheard.

  “I’ll take it as a compliment,” he said snidely, successfully pulling my shirt open.

  His hand slid over my bra, fingers slipping over the edges and pressing into my skin. Leaning forward, his breath washed over me there, causing a sickening shudder in myself that lasted through his lips pressing into my cleavage.

  I started trying to break free with more force and was rewarded with a slap across my face that made my eyes water and a pained cry to escape my mouth. He was unrelenting, his fingers now fumbling with the button on my shorts.

  Surely, someone would wonder why I was taking so long with the trash. Barry or Johnny would be out here any minute to check on me and I would be saved.

  It was so busy inside though . . . What if they didn’t notice in time?

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, squeezing my eyes shut as he tugged at my pants, praying that someone would intervene in time.

  Suddenly, there was a sickening crunch and something of a grunt came from my attacker. My eyes flew open, not knowing what had happened in the few seconds I couldn’t look any more.

  The air around us was heavy and dark, almost like it was filled with smothering smoke, but there was no fire to be seen.

  That wasn’t what elicited the scream tearing from my throat, though.

  The drunk had been stabbed clean through, blood dripping from his chest and gaping mouth onto my bare skin and bra.

  Chapter Three

  The curved blade yanked back, cutting more flesh that sprayed blood on me as it left the now dead man’s body.

  As if in slow motion, he fell forward, his hand finally releasing my bruised wrists and the knife he’d been holding falling to the ground.

  In a panic, I shoved him off of me, rolling to the side and wiping my face off, feeling as if his sticky gore covered every inch of me. My shaky limbs could hardly hold me up as I got to my hands and knees, bile rising in my throat as I relived the sight of the murder over and over again, like a disk that had been scratched and couldn’t move past a certain point.