Page 97 of Deserter

I cupped her jaw in my hand and brought her gaze back up to meet mine. “I’m asking if you regret this—if you regret us.”

“Stop.” Celia shook her head, causing the little hand that was still wrapped up in her hair to wave like a small child holding a flag.

“I knew this would happen. I wanted to think that they’d see us together and everything would be like it was, but that’s delusional. Life’s not a fairy tale.”

I didn’t know about the emotional bullshit that went along with love, but I knew in that moment that I respected the hell out of my wife.

I tapped a finger against the spine of her book. “Well, you would know. That’s some dark reading material, princess. She’s the one that met the Reaper with her head in an oven, right? Or was she the one who drowned herself in a river? It’s hard to keep track of your tortured artists and their suicides.”

She disentangled herself from Kate’s grasp and smiled. “You were right the first time; it was the oven. Sometimes, I can’t quite get my thoughts organized. I can’t determine what it is that I’m feeling until my tortured artists sum it up for me in a poem or song.

“Your comics do the same thing for you—they present a world where the hero defeats the villain, and everyone lives to fight another day… even if we know that’s not how life works.”

I kept stroking Kate’s hair while nodding along to her words. I’d never considered what it was that drew me to comics in the first place, but I’d wished on more than one occasion to be something other than a kid who was afraid of his father.

The baby let out a soft sigh and we both glanced down to see that she was fast asleep with her little pink lips pushed out into a pout. I took her from Celia’s arms and carried her over to the crib.

“It’s not the typical bedtime story, is it? There are no princes slaying dragons to win over the heart of a princess,” I finally said as I pulled the blanket over Kate’s small body.

“You got something better in mind?”

I nodded, suddenly knowing exactly what I needed to do. “Come here.”

I led her back into the living room and onto the couch before kneeling in front of her again. She placed a hand against my shoulder. “My doctor hasn’t cleared me for that yet, but I could… I could take care of you.”

Her cheeks went pink as she tried and failed to get her point across without actually saying the words.

I mashed my lips together, tempted to take her up on the offer and scrap my entire plan. “Not what I had in mind, Darlin’. I’ve, uh, I’ve got a story for you.”

Lines appeared across her forehead as she narrowed her eyes. “You’re turning down a blow job… so you can tell me a story. Are you coming down with something? I thought you looked pale back at the church.”

“Fuck, Celia, look at me. Do I look sick? Got something to tell you and I need you to shut up and let me.”

She leaned back against the cushions and crossed her arms over her chest with a tight smile. “Forgive me for worrying about you. Go on, tell me your important story.”

Fuck.

She was supposed to be happy, not staring at me like she was looking for a good place to stick a knife.

“You finished, princess?”

She nodded but remained silent.

“Good, got a story for you. You may think you’ve heard this one before, but you haven’t. Once upon a time, there was this man and he ran a biker club. Some said he was a god—”

The corner of Celia’s mouth curled up into a grin. “A god… is that so?”

“Gonna need you to hold all questions ‘til the end. So, this god—no one could stop him. He took what he wanted, when he wanted and didn’t give a fuck what anyone said. If people crossed him, they paid for it— simple as that.”

It was obvious that she was dying to say something else, but stayed quiet, waiting for me to continue.

“He was surrounded by men who feared him and had everything he could ever want—except for her. She was like no one he’d ever met before and that bothered him. They said it was her beauty that made him want her, but it was more than that.”

I paused and she leaned forward again, suddenly interested in where the story was headed. “He thought he wanted her like a trophy or another possession to add to his collection, but he was wrong. Maybe Hades never saw taking Persephone as kidnapping.”

She placed a hand on my cheek and moved into my line of vision before quietly asking, “Why’d he do it then?”

My knees were starting to go numb against the carpet, but I kept kneeling. She deserved my pain and she deserved the truth.

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