Page 7 of God of War (Legacy of Gods)

Scotch. Malt. Straight.

I hate that I know all these details about him. I wish I could be hit with amnesia so I can just forget him, his favorite drink, his wardrobe choices, and his entire malicious personality.

Ollie gets closer until he’s almost flush against me. His smell, oud and musk, nearly suffocates me, but I put up with it and trace my forefinger over his stubbled cheek, forcing my entire attention to stay on him.

Giving Eli the show he signed up for.

I have no idea why he doesn’t leave me alone when he clearly has no interest in me whatsoever, but I’ll be damned if I don’t play his game.

At least today.

Most of the time, I just avoid him like the plague. What? I’m not always drunk, and when it comes to Eli, my courage—or impulsive foolishness—largely depends on the level of alcohol and drugs pumping in my veins.

I lift my head, but my movements slow when I find his spot at the bar empty. A strange, crushing disappointment crinkles in my chest and I hate it with everything in me.

Worse than I hate that man.

My phone vibrates in my bra and I jolt, then disentangle myself from Ollie to check it out.

Ariella

Call me. It’s an EMERGENCY!

My heart trips over itself as I storm off the dance floor, ignoring Ollie’s and the others' objections as I fly up the stairs to the VIP room I rented tonight. I close the door behind me and pace the length of the tacky space with red faux-leather sofas and black walls.

My younger sister answers in a matter of seconds. “Ava!”

“What…” I swallow. “What’s wrong? Are Mama and Papa okay?”

“They’re fine.”

“Nana and Grandpa?”

“Living their best life on their latest cruise in the Mediterranean Sea.”

“Okay…then what’s the emergency?”

“Figured it was the best way to get you to call me.”

I release a long, tortured breath and lean against the side of the sofa. “Ari, you little shit, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Oh, please. No more than you scared the hell out of us during that competition earlier, then proceeded to ghost us.”

“I didn’t ghost you. Besides, it was…nothing.”

“Only if nothing means literally freezing mid-note for, like, five minutes and then storming off the stage.”

“I had…a block.”Of senses. Of existence.

I literally ceased to be me at that moment.

“And you couldn’t, like, talk to us about it?”

“So you’d pity me?”

“So we’d support you, idiot. Mama and Papa are worried about you. I’m worried about you.”

I bite the corner of my lip. Why the hell do I manage to be like this and concern every single person I love about my mental state?

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