From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(90)

“Then we should wait.”

“No,” she said through her tears.

“Yes,” he whispered as he pulled her close. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” Her breath was shaky as she pushed him away. “Nothing is okay.” She sat and swung her legs off the side of the bed. “I just wanted you not to ask questions. That’s all I wanted.”

It was all she could give.

Jon propped himself on his elbow, staring at her as she hunched over the edge of the bed. He touched her back, but she shrugged away from his hand.

“That was all you wanted? Goddammit, Josie. What about what I want? I’ve done everything I can to convince you of how I feel in the hopes that you’d come back to me. I’ve waited for you all this time, given you space and gladly. I thought that was what you needed. I’ve tried to prove to you that I’m here, that I’ll always be here. But, once again, I have no say; your word is gospel. But what about what I want? Don’t I have a choice? Why does everything have to be on your terms?”

She didn’t move, couldn’t answer, couldn’t speak.

His voice dropped, cold and hard as ice. “Josie, through all of this, I never thought you meant it when you said you didn’t want me. But right now, I feel used, and that is one thing I won’t fucking stand for. What more can I give you? What more do you want from me?”

She didn’t turn, only said, “I don’t know if I want anything from you.”

“Damn you,” he hissed. “Goddamn you,” the words wavered as he spit them out. He turned away, moving to find his bag, digging through it to occupy himself. “Go get yourself together. We’re leaving.”

“I—”

He spun around, unable to hold it together for a single second longer. “No. That’s it. I can’t keep doing this with you. You think I’m the one who’ll hurt you, but the truth is that you’re far more dangerous than I ever was.”

He turned to stuff his belongings back in his bag, and she stared at his back as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Josie picked up her bag and walked numbly to the bathroom, closing the door behind her with a click. She looked at her reflection. But the girl who looked back was only a shell, the wasted husk left after the pain of her past ripped through her like a swarm.

The words she’d spoken echoed through her mind. “I don’t know if I want anything from you.”

She didn’t know how to want, how to give, how to love, or how she could live up to anyone’s expectations. She hadn’t known how to answer him. She couldn’t say the words she knew he wanted to hear because she didn’t know if they were true.

Josie sank down to the cold tiled floor and dropped her face to her hands, hoping he couldn’t hear her cry.





Dita sat in the dim theater room with her eyes on the screen and shock on her face. The gods were silent while they stared at Josie as she cried, her sobs the only sound in the room.

After a long, stunned moment, Dionysus stood and grabbed the remote. “Welp. I think we could all use a little breather,” he said as he clicked off the screen and brought the lights up.

A few gods got up to leave, but most stayed put, looking around like there would be an encore.

“I’m serious. Show’s over for now—at least, the public one. Come on, come on. Break it up, everybody.” He raised his dark eyebrows, his blue eyes expectantly surveying the room.

They reluctantly stood and shuffled out of the room, whispering and mumbling.

Dionysus sat next to Perry and Dita. “I think it’s time to get drunk.”

Dita side-eyed him.

“I’m not kidding, Dita. You need to get wasted, like, yesterday. Come on.”

He stood and started for the elevator, and Perry pulled Dita out of the chair.

“You really want to do this?” Dita asked her with an eyebrow cocked.

Perry shrugged. “Honestly, I could use a drink. Let’s go.”

They followed Dionysus to the elevator and up to his apartment. The furniture was all posh and plush with the occasional touch of animal print, which should have been tacky but Dionysus pulled it off with ironic hipster ease.

“Sit, please, ladies, whilst I prepare libations.” He motioned to the sectional couch with a smirk behind his scruffy black beard. He pulled his long hair back into a sloppy knot at his nape as he headed for the bar.

They sat down.

Dita was miserable.

Things had not gone as planned, the road trip taking a turn for the worst, complete with a panic attack and a rejection. Josie was broken, and her brokenness had crushed Jon’s spirit, smashed his heart in fresh and gruesome ways with nothing but a few words. Josie was so confused and gnarled, but Dita understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood.

“It’s too quiet,” Perry said with her eyes on Dita, who nodded. “Hey, Di, can we turn on some music or something?”

“Oh, yeah, hang on.” He punched an intercom on his wall. “Panos, could you come up? Bring your vinyl.”

“Sure thing, boss,” the voice on the other end said.

Dionysus made his way over with a tray of Fireball shots just as a satyr with small horns sticking out of his dreadlocks came in with a crate of records. His hooves clomped against the hardwood as he walked past and jerked his chin in greeting.