I had so many questions, including, “Will Derelict and Jam be joining us on this not-so-little excursion?” and, oh yeah, “Why the hell are we here?”
But Smart Elephant. I didn’t ask any of them. I just did as I was told.
However, I couldn’t help frowning as I climbed the two-story wooden staircase. This cabin was the very definition of remote. I’d spotted some shacky-looking houses on the way here, a few of them abandoned. But there weren’t any houses as far as I could see in any direction. And it was so noisy with the sounds of frogs and cicadas, nobody could hear anybody’s screams. Including mine.
A chill ran down my back. This would be a great place to dump a body.
But then a new thought occurred to me.
Hades was an MC King. The ruler of an underworld where anything could happen. I couldn’t imagine him going anywhere unarmed, but he wasn’t wearing his usual gun-covering leather jacket—probably because he’d die of heatstroke if he tried. And the pockets in his shorts didn’t look big enough to house a Glock, so that meant…
I looked down at the overnight bag I’d been instructed to sherpa up to his bayou stilt house.
And I was a smart elephant. A very smart elephant.
But as soon as I got inside, I had to rush over to the couch and set the bag down to see if my theory was correct. I began to unzip it—
“Persy.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. The silent gator had struck again. I turned around to find Hades at the front door with his phone gripped tight in one hand. And the tote I’d forgotten in the boat in the other.
Had he seen me about to unzip his bag?
But he wasn’t looking at his luggage, he was looking at me. “Tell me again what you said to Waylon’s woman at the door yesterday morning.”
Why was he asking me about this again? I’d already told him.
“You heard what I said,” I answered carefully. “I told her to submit to Waylon. And I got emotional, but that was all I said to her.”
Hades went still—so still—only his mouth moved when he asked, “Why were you talking to her?”
I blinked. “I was—I was trying to help her.”
“Why were you trying to help?” he asked with a sneer. “You never try to help anybody unless they’re buying one of those crochet tops of yours.”
His words made me inwardly flinch. Did he really think all I cared about was money?
I loved making my tops, loved that I’d discovered something I enjoyed doing that could make me money—not a lot of money, but way more than most would expect without an Etsy shop or any kind of technology save a phone and a computer.
But why bother defending myself? He wasn’t interested in the real me. I was just some blood debt to him.
I backed down with a dull, “It was out of character, and it won’t happen again.”
Smart, smart elephant. It was the right thing to say to get out of this conversation, and Hades finally blinked.
But then he held up his phone and asked, “If you were only trying to help her, why did Waylon just text me about the hidden note he found in the pocket of those scrubs she wore out of the roadhouse. A note from you?”
CHAPTER 21
HADES
It had been a moment. Just a moment at that locked roadhouse door. Persy’s explanation had sounded reasonable enough. But he hadn’t been able to let it go.
And Hades understood why when her eyes flared with the shock of getting caught.
She had been trying to escape, maybe even get a message to someone through Waylon’s woman, the only person she’d met in years who’d have sympathy for her position.
Hades had relaxed his guard with his captive. Had ceased nearly all punishment and torture even though she’d tried to kill him. He’d shortened her sentence to five years. But still, she’d attempted to escape.
