Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(55)

The man licked his lips. “Listen, I know it looks bad. I know it looks like I was headed to Metropolis.”

Marcus’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t interrupt.

“But I ran over something and I didn’t want the load at risk. If I had an accident, fuck, the suits would be all over it. I didn’t want that to happen so I took a shorter route. I mean, it’s been years and the Titans ain’t done nothing—”

“The Titans? I thought you said you didn’t know who jumped you.”

“I don’t, I mean, I just guessed. They’re your enemies.”

“That’s also a little out of their way to pick up a shipment, but the road you chose was wooded, secluded. Not a bad place for a meet.”

“Or an ambush.” Marty corrected.

Marcus let the silence stretch. Marty nailed his story airtight, maybe was briefed by the Metropolis gang. The Titans were nasty fuckers. If Marty was dealing with them, maybe there were balls of steel under his worn khakis.

Time for a crowbar.

“Listen, Marty, it’s getting late. I’m a man who values my time; I’m sure you’re the same way. So I’m going to tell you: I already sent someone to your house. Sharo, you know him? Big guy. Doesn’t say much. His fists do the talking, although he’s a keen hand with a wet saw.”

“Oh gods.” The man’s pasty skin went white.

“They call him the Undertaker. Kinda cliché, I know, but it gets the point across.”

Marty’s mouth flapped open like a dying fish, but no sound came out. Marcus kept talking.

“Anyway, Sharo’s not a big fan of waiting, either, and he’s standing in your wife’s bedroom now, watching her sleep. In a minute I’m going to text him instructions, and what I tell him depends on what you say.”

“Oh gods, no. Not my Sadie.” The man fell forward out of the chair, onto his knees. “Please, please, don’t hurt her. I’ll tell you.”

Marcus nodded. “You have two minutes. Start talking.”





Ten minutes later, Marcus walked back out to the stairwell where Sharo was waiting.

“Fucking Titans,” Sharo growled.

“Send out a patrol. Shipment’s long gone, but maybe we can still track it, be ready next time.”

“Already done. We’re bugging up the rest of the goods. If another trucker flips, we’ll have ears inside.”

Marcus rubbed his stubbled jaw as if he could wipe away the night. “This is the second incursion into our territory this month,” he said. A man’s broken cry echoed out from the metal dye vats behind him. “After all these years, they’re finally making their play. It’s got to be because of her.”

Cora’s mother. She must have gone to the Titans and plead her case just like Marcus had known she would.

Sharo nodded.

“They’re not gonna stop. Not until we end it.” Sharo’s midnight skin shone even in the shadows.

“It’s about time.” Marty’s screams rang out again, and Marcus headed for the stairs. “Tell them to turn the fans on. Drown out the noise.”





Sixteen





When Cora woke up, her head felt thick, her eyes swollen. What time was it? It was dark out. The last thing she remembered was giving into the tears half an hour or so after Marcus left. She’d swiped them away as fast as they fell, furious at herself. How had she let herself feel anything for that selfish, monstrous, unfeeling— Wait, something was wrong. It was the middle of the night and she wasn’t sure what had woken her. She frowned as she swung her feet over the side of the bed.

But then it hit.

The weight around her ankle. It was gone.

She frantically turned on the bedside lamp.

Holy shit! She lifted up her ankle. And then laughed in disbelief.

The weight around her ankle was gone, along with the chain leading to the bedpost.

She’d done it. She’d earned his trust. Or was this another test?

She waited ten minutes, occasionally calling out Marcus’s name, but got no response. Biting her lip, she got on the bed, spread her legs, and touched herself, knowing that if he was in the apartment and watching, that would definitely bring him running.

Still, nothing. He wasn’t home.

It was now or never.

She scrambled to the door. It was locked.

But after her mother locked her up, she’d vowed never to be stopped by a locked door again. She’d practiced for hours and hours after studying online videos—it was one of the first things she’d done as soon as she got free of the farm.

She went to the bathroom and grabbed a few hairpins. A few minutes scratching at the lock and it clicked. She backed up, barely daring to believe.

But when she turned the knob, the door opened.

Think, she had to think. She grabbed a plain t-shirt and jeans from the closet. Clothes Marcus had never let her wear the whole time she’d been here. And shoes. She needed shoes. The fabric scratched her skin. She’d grown used to being naked.

How long had she been in here? A week? More?

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and let the door creak open. Maybe he posted a guard, anticipating her escape.

But no. There was no one in the penthouse. She crept into the open room, barely daring to believe it. Marcus never left her alone for long. The gods were smiling on her, giving her a perfect chance to escape.