Junkyard Dog

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Junkyard Dog Page 26

by Katja Desjarlais

“I’m going to go clock out,” she said, giving him a quick pat before she sat up. “If I call you after I get home, and that’s a big if, will you be home?”

  She sighed as the dog took off across the sand, disappearing over the ridge. Swinging her legs over the edge of the hood, she hopped down and turned toward the driver’s-side door.

  “Such a pretty creature on four legs or two, isn’t he?”

  She spun around, her hand flying to the weapon on her hip as she took in the vaguely familiar woman gazing in the direction Alex had gone. She grazed her fingers over the snaps holding her gun in place and adjusted her stance.

  “Persephone,” the woman said, extending her hand in Charlotte’s direction. “I don’t believe we’ve been officially introduced.” She took a step closer and shook her head. “I really need to work on those boys’ manners.”

  She tentatively met the offered hand. “Charlotte.”

  Persephone smiled. “I know.” She glanced back at the ridge for a moment before turning to face her. “He’s a good boy. Well, he tries to be. He does have that snake gene running through his veins, after all.” She flashed a brilliant smile. “But don’t all men?”

  Watching the woman warily, she released her hold on her weapon. “You’re talking about Alex. You, uh, know him?”

  “Know him? Oh, honey.” Persephone laughed. “I own him.”

  She bristled at the flippant remark. “So you’ve come to, what, take him?”

  Striding past her, Persephone opened the truck door. “I love the motion of these things. Take me for a drive and we’ll talk, my dear.”

  Memories of high school history flew through her head. Mythological gods and goddesses and the callous games they played with humans for their amusement. “I—”

  “I didn’t ask,” Persephone stated, buckling herself in and crossing her legs as she draped her long skirt over her thighs. “Come, Charlotte. I have to head home soon and I’d like to have a little chat with you.” When her demand was met with stillness, she sighed heavily and gestured at the holster on Charlotte’s hip. “If it would make you feel better, you can point that thing at me while we discuss my boy.”

  *

  Persephone was quiet for the first few minutes of their drive, her eyes flicking over the dark desert until she settled back in her seat, apparently unbothered by the gun resting in Charlotte’s hand. “He’s forbidden from seeking you out.”

  She remained silent, her attention bouncing between the road and her passenger.

  “Hades fears you may be enough of a draw to keep Alexandros topside. And seeing as he lasted a week before coming to you, I believe my husband’s fears may be justified.”

  “I tracked him down first,” she muttered, turning off the main road onto a well-traveled loop.

  Persephone played with the buttons on her door before finding the one that operated the window. “Hades won’t be concerned about the details,” she said, unrolling her window and sitting back in triumph. “Your mere presence places Alex in a precarious position. He, along with Orion and Boreus, do not have the freedoms of higher deities. Their choices are limited through both their station and their connection to each other.”

  Orion and Boreus.

  Charlotte frowned. “Ryan and Bo?”

  “Who else?” Persephone asked, playing with the reclining mechanism on her seat. “Alex is loyal to his brothers first, his master second. And his mistress third.” She preened. “That’s me.”

  “I figured as much.”

  Persephone faced her, her stunning features solemn. “He sought you out tonight. Knowing he was in direct violation of his master’s decree, Alex came to you. Was drawn to you.”

  She slowed the truck to a stop. “This is insane,” she muttered, sliding her gun back into the holster and snapping it in. “Look, Persephon—”

  “Call me Seph, honey.”

  “Seph,” Charlotte echoed in exasperation. “Whether you are who you say you are, or you’re one of Alex’s hookups that he convinced to back up his story, doesn’t change the fact he and I knew we were short-term, whether we like it or not. Liked it or not.”

  The woman collected her long hair into her hands and draped it over her shoulder, patting it smooth as she opened her door. “Well, let’s eliminate one of those uncertainties now, shall we? Come.”

  Rolling her eyes, she turned off the truck and followed her passenger, shining her flashlight on the sand as the woman ran her hand over it.

  “Nothing grows in the darkness of Hades,” Persephone said, digging her fingers into the ground. “Cerberus is a beast of darkness, an unchanging constant in the underworld. But in human form, my boys bring beauty into a place where beauty is hard to find, and even harder to hold.” She tilted her head and looked up at Charlotte. “And sometimes we hold on to that beauty so tightly it loses that which we desire.”

  Charlotte kept one eye on Persephone’s hands as they flitted through the sand.

  “We lost Bo to Dionysus’s call,” she continued, lifting her fingers and watching the grains fall. “Orion’s remained a loyal, unchanging force, but his eyes hold no spark. He lives to serve, and accepts his happiness through Hades’s hand. And then there’s Alex.” She smiled. “I’ve always found his form of defiance fascinating. Total compliance, but on his own internal terms. And those terms have shifted recently, haven’t they?”

  Charlotte took a step back, steadying her light as Seph lifted one hand from the ground, a fragile vine wrapped around her fingers and inched its way along her delicate wrist.

  Watching the vine while tiny buds began to form, Persephone eased more of it from the sand. “There was no spark in his eyes when he was home,” she mused, flicking one bud open. “Complete detachment. Except for the brief moment he thought he saw you down there.” Tiny pink flowers emerged along the growing vine and Persephone stood. “You’re the only thing Alex has ever deemed worthy of raising above all else. Above my wishes. Above Hades’s commands. Above his brothers.”

  “We were nothing more than tem—”

  “Temporary? A fling?” Seph laughed, holding the vine out for Charlotte’s inspection. “Honey, I’m the daughter of Zeus. I know a fling when I see one.” She steadied her hand as Charlotte reached out to touch the delicate flowers. “That boy has had flings with more goddesses and women than even I care to think about. And I’m the goddess of fertility. But this? Honey, he’s risking everything he is and everything he’s known for nothing more than a kind word from you.”

  The vine continued to pile at their feet, stretching out across the sand. “Why are you here?”

  Persephone knelt down, grasping the vine from the base and crushing it in her fist, staring at it as it browned and shriveled. “This is what we’re doing to Alex. He’ll be tied to us forever through his birthright, but it’s time we lengthen his leash. And I can think of no better woman to pass him to than one who held her own against a feral Pirithous.” She passed Charlotte the dead plant and brushed her hands on her skirt.

  “Tell him I’ll take care of Hades, but I expect frequent visits.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “We’re all that’s holding him back. What’s holding you?”

  Charlotte’s mouth opened to respond, snapping shut when the woman vanished, leaving her alone in the desert with a dead plant.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Alex skidded to a stop when he hit the top of the ridge, dust kicking up around him as he scanned the area for midnight hikers. Satisfied he was alone, he padded to his SUV, panting heavily from the exertion of his run but determined to make it home before Charlotte called.

  If she called.

  He hadn’t intended to find her when he’d left the tavern. His plan had been simple—avoid thinking about her for a few hours by indulging in a little freedom. A quick run, a bit of exploring, maybe a rabbit for dessert.

  The fact his preferred hunting grounds happened to coincide with Charlotte’s preferred route was purely coincidental.


  He took another look around before he transformed, yanking the hatch of the SUV open and grabbing his clothes from his backpack.

  As long as she was willing to talk to him, he had a shot.

  His stomach rumbled as he drove through the park, a reminder of his failed mission to secure a bite to eat. Double-checking that his phone was charging, he tore onto the highway, watching for signs of a small coupe making its way back to town until he found a fast food drive-through on the main strip.

  It wasn’t rabbit, but the burger would have to do.

  Tossing the food wrappers onto the floor, he punched in the gate code and inched through the trailer park to his site, one eye on his cell until he was inside.

  Inside and staring at his silent phone.

  Minutes passed, the first hour creeping by at a snail’s pace.

  Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep as long as the possibility of her call hung over him, he stripped down and hopped into the shower, keeping his phone within reach.

  The shampoo was circling the drain when it rang. Scrambling to dry his hands off, he tapped the green icon. “Hey,” he called out over the din of the shower water.

  The line was quiet for a moment before her voice came over the speaker. “You sound busy.”

  Slamming the tap off, he wrapped a towel around his hips and grabbed another off the hook for his hair. “Just washing the desert off,” he replied, moving his phone to his bed so he could get dressed.

  “Oh.” She laughed, a strange nervousness in her voice. “I thought you were at the bar or something.”

  “Nope,” he said, pulling his boxers on. “Just killing time around here pretending not to be staring at the clock on my cell.” He hung up the towels and rifled around the bathroom for his brush. “I’m glad you called.”

  She hummed. “I didn’t know I was going to until I did. How did it go at the tavern?”

  “Not bad,” he said, tugging on a knot and grimacing when the spine of a cholla ripped along his hair. “I hung around for a few hours and helped Thomas out in the kitchen. He wants me to swing by Sunday to let him know if I’ve decided to stay local or not before he considers hiring me back on.”

  “So you haven’t decided?”

  He set his brush down and turned the speaker off, bringing the phone to his ear and lying back on his bed. “Well, I’m kind of caught on that,” he stated, deciding in the moment he had nothing to lose. “The only thing keeping me here is the possibility you and I might have another chance. If we do, I’ll wash dishes for three bucks an hour if that’s what Thomas is offering. If not, I’ll head north and crash on Ryan’s couch until we find that last guy and then set up shop wherever I need to.”

  When she didn’t respond immediately, his shoulders tensed.

  “That’s a lot of pressure,” she finally said softly. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to reply to that.”

  “You’re not.” He sighed, turning off the lights. “I just want you to know where you stand with me. I miss you. I miss us. I don’t really know if I’m supposed to be tiptoeing around it, or if I’m breaking some weird quasi-relationship rule, but there it is.” He glared into the darkness. “And if it helps, hound form is secondary to this one up here. Different story in Hades, but I don’t intend to be down there much if you and I… Yeah.”

  She exhaled. “We kind of walked into this on a timeline. What if things weren’t the same without it?”

  “And what if they’re better?” he countered, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Maybe instead of being some random guy with a short shelf life, I could be, I don’t know, the one or something.” He cringed at the bitter tone of his voice and paced the small floor space. “You know what I mean.”

  “Oh, wow,” she breathed. “I completely forgot how much I talked to Butch. You know what? That’s a real dick move. Like eavesdropping.”

  He ran his hand over his face. “That’s what you’re focusing on? Dammit, Charlotte. If you’re so determined to bring Butch into it, how about zooming in on the amount of time I spent riding around in the back of that truck to make sure you weren’t offed by the goddamn Pirithous? Getting one or two hours of sleep a night? Or maybe you could zero in on every time my legs cramped up in the back seat so I could keep those FBI assholes in their place.”

  “Don’t you go acting like you were protecting me from the big, bad, single cops for any reason other than irrational jealousy,” she hissed back.

  “Of course I was fucking jealous! That’s not the point,” he snarled, releasing the death grip he had on his phone before he crushed it. “I was guarding you. Always. Fucking. Guarding you. I’m a goddamn guard dog, Charlotte!”

  She went silent.

  He leaned against the kitchen counter, his anger and frustration combusting, leaving nothing but resignation in its wake. “I guess that’s it, though, isn’t it.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut as a shuddered breath came over the phone. “I don’t know how to separate the two,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Separate the two.

  Her words went straight to his core.

  The blessing of his brothers. The faint hope Hades would lengthen his leash.

  None of it mattered when he couldn’t change what he was.

  He sat down on his sofa, resting his elbows on his knees. “Me either. Night, baby.”

  *

  “Chuck.”

  Charlotte jolted from her thoughts, blinking rapidly. “Sorry. What?”

  Max sighed and tossed a sandwich onto her lap. “I said, we’re heading out Saturday for dinner and drinks. You’re coming.”

  She nodded absently, scanning the dark campground for movement. Or Persephone. “I hate these evening shifts.”

  “Preaching to the choir,” he said through a mouthful of food. “Screws over your day and your night. Probably a lot like being married.”

  She peeked into her sandwich, content to find nothing but ham and cheese. “Easier on the bank account at least.” She unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her legs up. “So I’ve been talking with Alex again.” Max motioned for her to continue, barely able to chew the huge bite he’d taken. “Deal breakers are deal breakers, right? Like, if there’s something really off about someone, that’s it for a relationship, right?”

  He swallowed, coughing for a moment. “Like his eyes?”

  “What the hell?” she exclaimed. “No. His eyes are very cool. I mean something about him.”

  “His job?”

  Giving Max a flat stare, she took a drink from her water bottle. “What’s wrong with his job?”

  “Nothing,” he replied, shrugging. “I don’t know what else. Is he a closet asshole? A drinker? Does he kill bunnies in his spare time?”

  “I…” She paused, contemplating the bunny question. “Nothing like that. More like a family issue. A genetic family issue.”

  Max turned the truck back on, flipping on the headlights. “I thought you didn’t want kids.”

  Buckling back in, she took a bite of her sandwich. “I don’t. Never mind.”

  “Is it his temper? His feet?”

  She tossed her sandwich back into the cooler. “No. And what the hell is wrong with his feet?” When Max didn’t respond, she crossed her arms and sat back. “You’re just pointing out petty stuff because he’s the big fish.”

  “Want my two cents?” he asked as he pulled onto the pavement. “If everything else about the guy works for you, and it sure as hell seemed to when you were together, why would you trash it over something he can’t help? Whatever it is obviously isn’t a big enough deal for anyone else to notice, so it can’t be that embarrassing.”

  She turned back to her window, adjusting her hat. “It’s not embarrassing. Jeez, Max. But it’s something he can’t separate from. Something that’s ingrained in him.”

  He slowed to check out a pair of tourists loading their bikes onto their roof. “Then arguing about it is kind of pointless. And kind of vicious.�


  *

  Charlotte flung her blanket off, Max’s words still haunting her.

  Pointless.

  Vicious.

  With all her focus on her own confusion and uncertainty regarding Alex and everything he’d laid out for her, she hadn’t once considered the brashness of her words, how cutting she’d been as she’d openly debated her ability to accept him for existing.

  She swung her legs over the edge of her bed and switched on her lamp.

  Separate the two.

  Me either.

  She winced as the resignation in Alex’s voice echoed in her head.

  It had been three nights since they’d spoken. She had taken to keeping her phone in the kitchen when she went to bed, eliminating the temptation to call him. Text him. Check to see if he’d texted her.

  But he hadn’t reached out to her. And with his defeated tone playing in her memory, she couldn’t blame him.

  She wandered into the kitchen, swiping her phone to life and pursing her lips when she saw the time.

  Four a.m.

  Pulling up Alex’s number, she hovered her thumb over the delete button, hesitating as Persephone’s words sank into her head.

  We’re all that’s holding him back. What’s holding you?

  She set her phone down.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Alex tossed a cloth over his shoulder and held out his hand for the freshly sharpened knife. “I’m getting the hang of this prep work thing,” he stated, slamming an onion down and slicing it in half. “Check out the evenness of this dice job.”

  Thomas glanced over, grunting when he saw Alex’s handiwork. “Don’t quit your day job.”

  “If I had a day job, I wouldn’t be hanging out here for free on a Saturday night,” he snorted, scraping his work into a bowl. “You still insisting I come by tomorrow? Or can we hash this out now?”

  Slapping at the orders dangling on the line, Thomas returned to the grill. “Do I look like I have time tonight? No. I said Sunday, I meant Sunday.” He squinted at an order and side-eyed him for a moment. “You’re done here. Head on out.”

 

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