Page 8 of God of War

“No marshmallows, sorry,” I say, cracking a smile. She smiles back, small and sad.

“That’s okay.”

I should’ve had coffee instead. After the adrenaline spike of finding Delaney on my doorstep, the warm pull of tequila is back, making me feel queasy and not-quite-right. Like I’m watching myself from behind a hazy pane of glass.

“Okay, well… Drink up and then you gotta go. I can’t… It’s not good that you’re here, Delaney.”

“Why not?”

She takes a sip, then wipes off her milk moustache with the back of her hand. Fuck, she’s just a kid and I don’t want to mess that up. I don’t want to get into all the reasons why the world is twisted and dark and a little girl should not be in a strange man’s house in the middle of the night.

“Doesn’t matter,” I snap. “Tell me what you need to say, then you gotta go.”

She frowns again, but this time she looks annoyed, her brow folded in the middle with an angry crease.

“I got this out from the library.”

The book. She pushes it across the formica tabletop and I have to step closer to see it.

I study the cover. “Gods of Ancient Greece.”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods enthusiastically. Grabbing the book back, she opens to a page she’s marked with a pink bookmark. “It says here that Ares is the God of War. He’s super strong and fierce. He went into battle all the time and has this spear, and a helmet, see?”

I shake my head. “Delaney, that’s interesting and all, but is this really why you knocked on my door in the middle of the night? To tell me you looked up my name? You know I’m not really an ancient Greek god, right?”

She rolls her eyes like I’m the idiot. “Of course not. But it made me think.”

“Think about what?”

She doesn’t say anything for a long time. I put my mug in the sink and sit down at the table across from her. My hands itch to reach out, to touch her, and bring her back from wherever it is she went.

“If you’re named after him, the God of War,” she says finally, her voice not more than a whisper, “Maybe that means you are like him.”

“Delaney… I don’t… I don’t understand, kid.”

She meets my eyes. Hers are green, sparkling bright with tears.

“Maybe you can kill like him too.”

It feels like she’s slapped me in the face.

“You… You want me to kill somebody.”

She nods, like I’ve asked her a question and not just stated it outright. I don’t know why I feel like this… ashamed, disappointed, angry. Maybe it’s because, just for a few moments, I had thought of Delaney like I think of Gran — somebody who can see beyond the tattoos and the club shit and all my screw-ups.

But no. Delaney sees me like the rest of the world sees me. A monster. Or a guy who’s capable of being one, anyway.

I suck in a breath.

“Sheriff’s Department! Open up!”

My heart jolts and I leap up, my chair clattering down behind me. Delaney gasps. She’s gone totally white and her eyes are huge and round in shock.

A heavy fist pounds on the door.

“I know you’re in there, Warner! Get out here or I break the door down!”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

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