Page 96 of Martyr
“Thank goodness.” Tem undoes her pants and drops them.
My eyebrows hike, but she doesn’t bat an eye. She fills four glasses with water, dropping a few cubes of ice into each, and passes them around. Saint comes back with a small bottle of ibuprofen, and he taps out some for all of us.
“Cheers,” Tem mutters.
We clink glasses and take our pain relievers.
I follow them into the bedroom, pausing when Reese goes to one side and Saint the other. Tem climbs straight down the middle, drawing her legs up to tuck them under the sheet and blankets.
“Come on,” Saint says gruffly. “You can be the big spoon.”
He leaves room for me on the edge, scooting close to Artemis. She’s framed in by Reese and Saint, sharing a pillow with the former. I drop my pants, too—the last to do so—and flick the light off. I take my time closing the blinds, then slowly crawl in behind Saint.
I wish I could say I savor it, but the military taught me to sleep wherever and whenever I could. As a result, I’m out in seconds.
I walk out of Bow& Arrow and examine the barren street.
Artemis and Reese left on their errand a little while ago, and the rest of us have busied ourselves cleaning up the place.
The bodies are gruesome in the light of day. Cyclopes just following orders.
They were given the chance to surrender, I remind myself.
I guess part of me expected Ouranos to send someone to collect them, but so far… nothing. And since there’s no unusual activity on the street, I duck back inside and lock the door behind me.
My body is sore from holding extra tension. The sun is setting. My stomach growls, but I ignore it. Movement will be the best cure for my physical wellbeing, and the last I heard, Jace, Wolfe, and Saint were playing cards in one of the private rooms. Daniel was hanging around them, too, finishing the security shit.
They didn’t seem inclined to include me, but I have been perfectly content on my own. No need to force a square peg into a round hole.
Unless the square peg is my cock, and the round hole is Saint’s asshole, of course. Then, with the right amount of lube, anything is possible.
Even though I fell asleep fast, I dreamt of Saint and Artemis. And when I woke up just after two o’clock in the afternoon, I was alone with a raging boner. There was a plate of food left on the table for me, with instructions in Tem’s handwriting for how long to microwave it.
After I ate every last bite, I went to work. I didn’t want to bother Saint, Jace, and Wolfe, and I guess waking up solo was a sign for me to continue the day that way.
I go to the back stairwell, the one that leads from the ground floor up to the top-floor offices—and Tem’s apartment, somewhere in between the two, which we’re now more intimately familiar with after our nap—and roll my shoulders back.
I jog up to the top, drop and do fifteen push-ups, then jog down. Crunches at the bottom. I repeat the cycle, getting faster on the stairs, swinging around the landings to keep momentum. On my fourth lap, a sheen of sweat covers my face, neck, shoulders, and back.
On the fifth, my legs tremble with every down step.
Sixth, and I become aware of an audience.
Saint.
“Lurking? Or do you want to join me?”
He steps out of the shadows and smirks. “You could joinme… I was headed to the shower.”
I raise my eyebrow. Last night was about Artemis, which I appreciate. I’ll never get sick of that woman’s body, even hidden under too much fabric. Or seeing her with Saint, for that matter.But we haven’t really discussed his memory, which is clearly back.
I apologized to Reese, but Saint and Tem need to hear it, too. Although I have a feeling Saint will forgive me quick, and Artemis will make me beg for it.
That’s okay. I’d get on my knees for her any time.
He seems to know that I’m off my game, because my lack of an answer has him smiling wider. “Come on.”
I wet my lips. “What about Artemis?”
