Page 71 of Inked Athena

“Why not?” Myles shrugs carelessly despite the fire blazing in his hooded eyes. “What have I got left to lose?”

“Your tongue, for one,” I warn. “Because I’m about to cut it out myself.”

He just shrugs again. “Won’t stop anything I’ve said from being true. You know why I’m telling you all this? Because I’m your best friend. Because I know you well enough, and I care enough, to tell you the truth. No one else does. No one else will. And if you keep pushing away everyone who actually gives a damn about you, you’ll end up exactly where your father did—powerful, feared, and completely fucking alone.”

Damn him. Damn him to hell.

I knock Myles aside with a brutal shoulder check, but instead of charging toward the door that opens into the guts of the castle, I opt for the French doors that lead outside. When I throw them open, the wind takes over and sends them clattering against the wall. Some of the glass panes shatter. I don’t stop to deal with the mess.

I just keep moving. I have to move. If I stay still, the demons catch me—and if the demons catch me, the demons win.

So fuck it. One step after the next. Out of the office and out into the night, the brutal night, the raging, furious night, with wind like whips and rain like knives and lightning like God’s disappointment.

But my demons keep coming. Funny how they take the shape of my best friend.

“Sam!” I hear Myles call out after me. “Samuil!”

I ignore him. I keep striding away from the light and deeper into the wild dark until Myles’s voice and my father’s voice and the thoughts swirling around in my head all fade away in the howling of the wind.

I don’t want to think anymore.

I don’t want to fuckingthinkanymore.

I draw in a sharp breath as ice swallows my right leg. I look down to see my ankle disappearing into murky water that thrashes and moans like it wants to claim me.

I’ve walked myself right into the loch.

The surface of the water churns and sloshes, splashing farther and farther up toward my waist. I take one more step. Then another. The water is up to my hips. If I keep wading in, the currents will drag me under.

Then something stirs in the water up ahead.

I squint into the rain as a shape moves back and forth, a great, hulking beast, groaning softly, wailing louder and louder.Lightning cracks, bursting through the darkness, and I see it for what it is.

The boat.

Nova’s boat.

The one that Myles repaired, because I wasn’t around to help.

Without a second thought, I push onward into the lake until I reach it. I throw myself over the side and grab the only oar that I can find. The wind must have pitched the other one into the water.

It doesn’t matter. I’m going nowhere in particular.

I have no destination, no goal in mind as I paddle. I just want to get away from here—from the taint of regret that’s clawing deeper and deeper into the gaping void in my chest. Away from the reminders of my own failings. Away from all the disappointment I know is waiting for me back at the castle.

The wind continues to keen. Rain slashes against my back. Thunder and lightning rip across the sky, illuminating the loch with eerie, silver light.

Through it all, I keep paddling.

I make it to the middle of the loch before wind like a freight train pitches the boat sideways and tosses me off-balance.

The oar slips through my fingers, cracks in half, and disappears into the black water.

Just like that, I’m trapped. Stuck hundreds of yards from shore with no way out of this loch or this storm.

Nova would tell me to fight. Our child would beg me to fight. But the black water calls like absolution—an easy way to ensure I never become my father, never hurt them the way he hurt everyone who loved him.

I could dive in if I chose. That would fix it. That would save me.

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