Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I have tried talking to him about this, but he struggles with understanding abstract concepts like consequence and responsibility. He wants so desperately to please us, especially his father, that he sometimes forgets to think for himself. I worry that if I don’t help guide him soon, it could have disastrous results.
At times like these I wish ever-so-slightly that Ares was more like his brother Apollo—calm and collected—so that I could trust him a little more at times of crisis or uncertainty. Nevertheless, my love for Ares remains as strong as ever.
It is almost impossible to be a parent. I didn’t want to be distant from them but also didn’t want to smother them with my concerns. I just wanted to give them space and love and support. All I could do was take them by the hand and escort them through life and hope that they would find their way in the world. But then there is another part of me. A part of me that wants to run and never look back. Hide from it all. Remove myself completely.
I close the journal with a tsunami of guilt. Phoenix would be livid if he knew I was reading these journals. I found the vault of Godwin secrets, and though I can’t resist reading them… I know deep down I shouldn’t. It’s wrong. It’s invasive. And yet…
Poor Freya. Reading the words of a tortured wife, and a troubled mother…
My connection with Phoenix feels different after reading these words. He has secrets. And I most certainly do. Maybe that’s what’s pulling us together. Maybe we don’t have chemistry or lust causing that kiss. Maybe our darkness is acting like magnets. It’s bringing us together.
But my secret, my darkness, is so much worse than his could ever be. A man died because of me.
Mark, my ex-husband, is dead because of me.
I may not have pulled the trigger, but the minute I brought Daphne and Apollo to the trailer to rescue me… I signed his death warrant.
Trying to gather some self-control, I toss the journal back into the hole, close it, and vow that I won’t read anymore. These are not my tales to read. I just need to go to bed and get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow is going to bring. I have a life to rebuild, and something tells me this is going to be much harder than I think.
Chapter
Eleven
Ani
The fear I am feeling is like a punch to the gut.
Hands around my neck squeezing.
Chains around my body with no escape possible.
A gag between my dry lips so I can’t scream.
This is it. I knew this day would come. Deep down in my moral soul, I knew punishment would be the ultimate ending to this story.
I stare out the window at the cars pulling up. Men in suits and men in uniforms are storming the manor. The full moon hanging over the crashing sea illuminates the army of justice. I fucked up.
I allowed this to happen. I didn’t stop it when I could have.
It doesn’t take long for them to barge their way into my room.
“Ani Parker. We have a warrant to search Olympus Manor.”
I nod with wide eyes. I try to offer a smile, although the effort could very likely crack my face. But if I am nice and cooperative, maybe they will let me go free. Or maybe Apollo hid my misdeeds sufficiently. Maybe he’s smarter than them. A chance exists that whatever desk jockey they assign this case to won’t be able to overpower the mighty Godwins. Maybe I’ll be safe due to association, simply because my sister is married to one of them.
“We would like you to come with us,” a man in a suit says. They all blur together, and I wouldn’t be able to describe any of them tomorrow in a lineup if I have to.
“Am I under arrest?” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It quivers and is too high-pitched. A stranger is doing the asking.
“That will be up to you, Ms. Parker. We hope you’re willing to be cooperative.”
I nod again, although I know what they want from me.
Rat.
Narc.
Backstabber.
Betrayer.
They want me to go against the Godwins.
Silly people. Don’t they know that no one goes against a Godwin?
I wake up with a jolt, sweat beading on my brow.
A dream. It is just another dream. The same one over and over again. Will I ever sleep without this nightmare haunting me?
I look up at the camera in the corner of the room. He’s not watching me. Thank god, or I’d have to try to explain.
But a part of me wishes he is watching me, too. If he knew I was having a nightmare, would he come and take me in his arms and comfort me, to protect me from the boogie monster beneath my bed?