Page 81 of Carry Your Debt

Every set of eyes in the room is now busy playing tennis between us, waiting to see which side of the net the ball is going to fall. And right now, the ball is in my younger brother’s court.

With Foster’s mysterious continued absence since the Symposium, our numbers remain evenly split. But either we go into this as a united front—or we’re doomed before we even get to the first Labor.

Apollo’s jaw works itself as he mulls over my decree. And I can see it for what it is, because it’s what I see every day in my own reflection.

A bone deep need for control.

But we don’t have time for this. The clock is ticking down on the Herald’s first announcements.

I decide to extend a small olive branch. “Ask my Crew. I’m willing to defer when the need arises,” I offer, only for my words to be met with a chorus of choked laughter.

My eyes swing over to where both Sabine and Knox are sitting at the dining table, fists pressed against their mouths. Rhett has his fingers laced over his head, eyes shining while he bites down on his lip.

“What?” I grouse.

“Sure,Zeus,” Sabine gasps, “Because you’re soamazingat sharing your toys.Truly.”

Rhett’s shoulders only shake harder.

My brow lowers.

Keep laughing.

Just know that at the earliest opportunity, Iwillbe tanningbothyour asses.

“Enough,” I finally bark, distracting my erection by slipping my phone out and pulling up my encrypted email server.

Still radio silence from Foster.

“Sinclair?” I prompt him without looking up from the screen.

“You mean,Apollo,” Sabine corrects me.

“Hmm?” I snap out.

When I glance back over to her, I find her sitting with her leg propped up and her chin resting on her knee. Her giant sweatshirt is pooled back around her hips, leaving me with a clear view of the exact way her skin-tight leggings mold to the natural shape of her mound.

And either she’s wearing the world’s thinnest fucking panties, or she's gone completely bare beneath them.

Fuck.

Her raspy, knowing chuckle sends a wave of gooseflesh down my nape and I’m immediately thankful that my lap is hidden with my legs crossed as they are. Don’t need my brother and his friends getting an eyeful of my rapidly hardening cock.

“I just think it’s best if we stick to the callsigns, at least during the Labors. It might help give us an edge while communications are being monitored,” she says. But her eyebrow is cocked in a challenge.

Between the attitude and the pants, she’s quickly racking up marks against her name.

And guess just where those marks will be going, darling?

But my lips thin, considering. She’s not wrong.

Without Foster here to guarantee our end-to-end protocols, we need any extra layer of security we can get.

“Fine.Apollo. What say you? We have,”—I check my phone again—“two minutes before show time.”

Finally, after a long, considering look in Sabine’s direction, he gives me a terse nod that again reminds me so much of myself.

“Okay, then let’s get ready. It’s time for the Labors to begin,” I say loudly.

---