Page 82 of Hades

“Good, because I might snap some necks if anyone else fucks with me right now,” he mutters.

“Well in that case…” Wrath teases, making us laugh.

“Meeting’s over,” Reaper says, ignoring Wrath, as he bangs the gavel.

Like always, I wait for the room to clear. Trigger barely looks up as he heads back to his office.

“I hate that this is fucking touching her,” Reaper says quietly.

You and me both.

Instead of telling him that, I keep my mouth shut, waiting him out.

“Good call on the Sarah thing. Those two are close.”

“I know.”

Reaper’s eyebrows furrow. “You do?”

“Sarah came by for dinner recently. I got to watch them together.”

He nods slowly, like he’s trying to piece something together.

Shit, I’m still trying to put it all together. Since I had dinner with the two women, things have been different. In a good way. I’m just not sure what it means or if I want to ask.

Laughter rings out, pulling us both out of our heads.

“Come on, let’s go join them before someone comes looking for us,” Reaper says as he stands.

Standing, I follow him out of the chapel, heading toward where I know where Evelyn will be. The need to lay eyes on her crawls under my skin.

Shit, she’s really fucked me up without even trying or knowing it, hasn’t she?

Evelyn

The church doors close with Hades inside, and I suddenly feel all alone and like I’m about to crack. The man has single-handedly been holding me together since I walked out of that conference room and into his arms.

Kaitlyn walks over to me and pulls me into her side. She ushers me over to the couch, where I sit and watch the chapel door. Waiting for the meeting to end so he can come back to my side.

Stop it. You shouldn’t be so dependent on him. He’s just a man you know.

“I made you some tea,” Lainey says as she comes to stand next to me.

“Thank you,” My voice sounds gravelly as I take it.

Natalie carefully sits down next to me. “How are you hanging in there?” she asks softly.

“Natalie…” Kaitlyn scolds.

Natalie winces. “Sorry, dumb question.”

“It’s not,” I lie.

It’s a fucking stupid question. I want to laugh and ask how she would feel if her calling was ripped from her fingertips, but logically, I know Natalie didn’t mean to hurt me by her question. She’s a mother hen, always trying to soothe those around her.

“Sorry I’m late. I brought emotional support desserts, though,” Tara says as she hustles into the room.

“I got the hard stuff,” Harlee says as she walks out of the kitchen, holding a bottle of vodka and a bottle of whiskey.