Page 62 of God of War

Ares’ jaw tics. “Motherfucker.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Aaron tuts. There’s a click, the safety of a gun being flicked off, and the barrel presses harder against my skull. “I’ll do it,” he warns. “Sheriff’ll be pissed, but he’ll get over it.”

I force a shaky laugh. “He’ll get over you murdering his daughter? I’d re-think that, Aaron.”

Aaron chuckles. He carves the barrel of the gun through my hair and down the side of my neck. Lowering his body with it, I feel his breath on my cheek.

“He’s got another daughter,” he replies.

His words pierce me deeper than any bullet. I breathe out Lilly’s name in a rush, feeling it leave my lips rather than hearing it.

If I die here, there will be nothing stopping Dad from doing to Lilly what he did to me. All of this will be for nothing: stealing the drugs, going to the Wastelanders…

“So, either you’re both good for me, or this ends with the Sheriff down a daughter and you, Ares, riding back to town covered in this little bitch’s brain matter.”

He jabs the gun harder against my neck. My pulse rages against it.

“Okay,” Ares says, startling me. He forces his fists to relax, his shoulders pressing back into the sticky vinyl of the seat. “Whatever you say, boss.”

The gun lets up and I turn to see Aaron taking a step back — all to get a better view of both of us in the backseat.

“Good,” he says. “Now take off her shorts.”

“What?” Ares spits it, his body tightening up again.

“You heard me,” Aaron says, grinning. “I’m not going to touch her. You are.”

23

Delaney

There’s a fuzzy sort of hum in my ears. I can’t hear anything. Can’t think. Did Aaron really mean…?

“No,” Ares says sharply, his voice cutting through the cotton wool inside my head. “You’re sick. I’m not fucking doing that.”

Aaron shrugs, moves his arm out to aim the gun at the ground, and fires. The supersonic boom covers my scream and even as I jolt away, my face buried in Ares’ shoulder, flecks of dirt spray up and spatter against my skin.

Ares says something else — yells something — but I’m not listening. I close my eyes and breath in. He smells like sweat and dust and a little blood somewhere underneath it all, because of course he does. My mouth waters.

“It’s okay,” I squeak out. Ares stills and I tilt my face to him. There are flecks in his eyes, shards of silver amongst the gray. His mouth is a flat line and there’s a deep crease between his eyebrows.

“Ares, please,” I say quietly, so Aaron can’t hear. “I need you to do this.” And then because he doesn’t look convinced… “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

And it’s the truth. It’s solid and unwavering. It’s the kind of truth I can hold onto, even through what’s about to happen.

Ares looks deep into my eyes, maybe seeing that same truth there: that this isn’t about want, it’s about need.

“Okay. Okay, baby,” he says finally. Despite the low thrum of fear, the word ‘baby’ skitters around inside me, making pleasant little sparks.

“Alright, kids,” says Aaron. “Let’s get comfortable.”

He claps a couple of times, his gun now back in his holster, and he slams the door at my back. His boots crunch on the ground as he rounds the patrol car again. Ares only has time to squeeze my fingers before Aaron climbs back into the driver’s seat. He cracks his neck and adjusts the rearview mirror, aiming it for a clear reflection of the two of us.

“You two waiting for a written invitation? I said take off her shorts.”

“Fuck you, Flores,” Ares spits angrily as he adjusts his body to face me. His handcuffs clink as he reaches for me, but I’m looking at Aaron. At his hungry expression. He licks his lips and a shudder runs through me like he just licked me.

“Hey… Hey… Delaney, look at me.”

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