Page 30 of God of War

Ares shifts his weight, moving back from the window. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters. “How’d he even find us?”

“My bag is in the bedroom. I’ll get it.”

I press my shaky palms to the floor, about to lift myself up, when footsteps crunch outside. Dad coming closer. Ares points the gun at the window.

“Don’t take another step, Jackson!”

The footsteps stop. Dad chuckles. “That you, Warner? Well, whaddayaknow, it’s Cameron Warner.”

Ares’ head drops, his shoulders sagging. He mutters a curse under his breath, then rallies. Pulls himself up. “Nothing here for you, Sheriff.”

“Beg to fucking differ, Warner,” Dad replies. “How’d my girl convince you to come along on this little jaunt, anyway? She offer you another taste, huh?”

Ares’ spine goes rigid. I curl in on myself more, my stomach aching, bile rising.

“Yeah, I bet she’s awful tempting in there. Alone. Afraid. Ripe.”

I want to press my hands over my ears, but I can’t move.

“How about this,” Dad continues smugly. I can picture the look on his face, the one he wears when nobody else is around. It’s a look that says no matter what comes next, he knows he’s already won. “How about you toss out those bricks Del stole from my station, and I let you have a little one-on-one time with her. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

I bury my face in my knees.

“She can be real good girl when she wants to be.” Dad’s voice is venom, slipping through my veins and turning my blood to mush.

I feel pale gray eyes on me.

Silence.

“Delaney.”

I can’t look. I don’t want to see what’s on Ares face. The disgust.

“Delaney, get up.”

I force myself up, my legs shaking. This is it. Ares knows. Knows I’m damaged goods, that I’m fucked up beyond repair. There’s no other choice for him except to hand me over.

“Look at me.”

I feel my head shake, wagging side-to-side. Then, firm fingers on my chin. Gripping me hard, wrenching my head up so that I see him. See the disgust.

Only there is none.

There is only rage.

“In the bedroom,” he says, his voice low and rough. “The window. You open it, you climb out, you run. Got it?”

“W-what? But I—”

“You take your bag and you run. You find some place in the woods and you hide.”

The dull throb of fear shifts, making way for confusion. “But what about you?”

“I’ll find you, Delaney.”

“But—”

“I promise. Now go.”

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