Page 49 of Carry Your Debt

Exactly!

I’m just demanding reparations, Boss

10:00PMKNOX

10pm check-in

2IC will be @ RA on Wed re: 12 Labors

10:01PMDIONYSUS

10pm Check. All clear.

As I finish reading my Crew’s ridiculous text exchange, I can’t help but grimace.Dominic will be at Rox Academy as early as Wednesday.

But then I catch the time, and snort, realizing that it’s almost the top of the hour. Time for the Enforcers to check in again.

Perfect.

Dio answers my video call with a disconcerted look on his face. “You’re awake already?”

“Yes, no thanks to you,” I chide, angling the screen so he can’t miss the Hermes-shaped leech currently plastered to my side. “All clear, my ass, D-man.”

The call instantly drops.

“I waited until he left to piss,” Hermes confesses against the side of my throat, and a hiccuping giggle bubbles through my nose, burning my nostrils with anticipation.I lay frozen then, ignoring the urge to card my fingers through the curls that tickle my cheek, until not two minutes later—when there’s a telltalebeepfollowed by aschnickas my so-called Enforcer lets himself in.

I sit up to meet him, my six-foot, human-sized poncho lazily following my lead.

Dionysus’s face holds nothing but wicked satisfaction as he comes through the door, duty weapon out and trained directly on the tattoo over Hermes’s heart. To his credit, Miller doesn't so much as bat an eyelash.

“I already told Apollo this shit wouldn’t fly.” He toes the door shut behind him, his smile wide and mocking as he adds, “She kicked you to the curb just yesterday, and you’re here pestering her again already?”

“Jesus Christ,” I hiss, rising from the bed to play referee, but Orbison only sidesteps me, keeping us both in his line of sight.Exasperated, I step closer and smack the barrel down, angling it toward the floor.

“Such a fucking flirt,” I scold him.

His smirk only deepens.

“Pretty sure there are rules against this sort of thing,” Hermes says airily.

After another intense staredown, D grunts once before flicking the safety on and slotting his handgun back into its holster. “Fucking Hospitium,” he mutters as he begins shouldering the whole kit off, but it’s without heat.

At the sound of Hermes moving across the bed behind us, I turn back around—only to catch sight of him mid-crawl, blond locks falling haphazardly over his face and taut ass high in the air.

Dio and I groan in stereo.

“Have you two been formally introduced yet?” I ask my bodyguard, who’s now heading over to the weapons safe in the corner of the room. Partygoers may not be able to enter the Symposium itself armed, but no such rules apply outside its doors. We just can’t readilymaimthe other guests.

No matter how annoying.

“Not…officially,” Hermes answers for him, cocking his head as he eyes the older man with interest. He’s now perched at the end of the mattress, sitting back on his bare feet.

That has my brows rising.

When would they have met…unofficially?

Wait.

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