Hearts and Arrows Box Set by Staci Hart
When the light turned green, she was released. She flew down the street, her hand shifting gears in perfect time to her feet on her clutch, the hum of her car felt all the way to her heart.
She sped through the light at the end of the quarter, the Brooklyn Bridge and East River stretched out in front of her. She drove up to the meet spot, stuffing her Ruger in the back of her jeans out of habit, and stepped out, relaxed for the first time since she’d left Dillon’s.
Charlie, the promoter, pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket. “Another one bites the dust. Here you go, Kat.” He turned his back to everyone and glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, listen, watch out for this guy. He thinks his balls are huge, and he’s been talking some serious shit.”
“Thanks, Charlie. I can handle him.” She smiled at him and looked over at Mr. Big Balls.
He slammed his fist onto his dash before stepping out of the car and storming over to them. “She fucking cheated.” He punctuated the sentence by jabbing his finger at her.
Kat laid a hand on her hip. “How do you think I cheated? You checked my car out yourself.”
“There’s no way.”
“There must be a way, because I just beat your ass.”
He huffed, and his eyes blazed as he yelled through his teeth, “Bitch, this shit ain’t over.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. You just let me know when you want to get fucked on the quarter again, and I’ll gladly oblige.”
His nostrils flared, and her smile faded as the hair stood up on her neck. She thought for a second that his eyes were glowing, but when she blinked they looked normal.
“I said, it’s not over, and I mean it.”
“Whatever, weirdo.” She shook off the heebs and turned to walk to her car.
A man called her name. “Kat?”
She turned toward the sound, and there stood a middle-aged bookie with a paunch and a Cuban guayabera shirt on. He ran his hand through his silver hair and he squinted at her in disbelief.
Louie.
He was one of her dad’s bookies from Vegas. She was going to have to play it cool.
She strutted over to him with her heart hammering. “Hey, Louie. What are you doing out here?”
“I’d ask you the same thing, Kitty Kat.”
She smiled at him, gritting her teeth behind her lips. She hated that nickname. Everyone started using it though, and after a while, she got tired of trying to get people to stop. That, and it seemed to make them want to say it even more, knowing that it bothered her.
Kat shoved her hands in her pockets and dropped her shoulders. “Just looking for a change of scenery.”
“I wondered why I hadn’t seen you around. I saw your car and thought, ‘Nah, it couldn’t be Kat.’ But here you are.” He jingled his change in his pocket. “I’m here on a little vacation. Heading back to Vegas in a couple of days.”
“What else are you betting on? Just races?”
“No, had some high stakes poker tournies to go to, and a few fights. There’s a kid out here that everybody’s talking about. People are coming from all over to see him fight. The kid’s famous. They call him Diamond Dillon. You heard of him? He’s got a tattoo of a diamondback wound around his arm, and when he punches, it looks like it strikes.” Louie shadow boxed and chuckled at himself. “He hasn’t lost a fight in years.”
Her heart hitched, but she kept her composure. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of him. Every bookie loves a sure thing.”
“That we do.”
She wanted to ask him to keep his seeing her on the low, but she didn’t want to tip him off. If she acted weird and he mentioned it to anyone, it could get back to Eric. But if she said nothing, he would definitely mention it to someone. “Listen, don’t mention you saw me, all right? We’re trying to start over. You understand.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure. I get it.”
Kat checked her watch for show. “I’ve got to run, Louie. It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Kitty. I’ll see you around, kid.”
Kat walked back to her car and started her engine, hoping Louie didn’t mention their meeting to Eric’s cronies, wondering what it would mean for her and Kiki if he did. She thought about her Ruger tucked into her jeans. They hadn’t hit any trouble so far in Brooklyn, but if they did, she’d be ready for it.
She slipped into her car and drove away, speeding around corners until she pulled into the alley behind MacLennan’s. She needed a drink.
She made her way in and waved at Jerry, the owner, who stood with his stocky arms propped on the bar. He smiled behind his short, gray beard and pushed his longish, silver hair back from his face as he walked to where she took a seat at the end of the bar.
“Hey, Kat. What are you doin’ in here on your night off?”
“I could really use a drink.”
He raised a gray eyebrow. “Well, all right then. What’s your pleasure?”
“Shot of tequila.”
“I see you mean business.” He grabbed a bottle of Herradurra and poured her shot. She kicked it back as he was reaching for a lime, his fingers falling back to the bar while he eyed her. “Want to talk about it?”
Kat shook her head. “It’ll be all right. Thanks, Jerry.” She slid the shot glass across the bar to him along with a twenty.
He waved her off. “It’s on me, Kat.” He gave her a wink before he made his way down the bar taking drink orders, and Kat sat for a moment, staring at the rows of liquor in front of the mirrored wall. She caught her reflection and was surprised at the dark circles under her dull eyes, her washed out skin. She looked exhausted.
Kat sighed heavily and contemplated another shot, but she’d been gone long enough. She needed to get home to Kiki.
Jerry waved at her as she walked away. “See ya, kid.”
Kat smiled and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, pushing the door open with her back. She stepped out into the cold night, and her mouth slowly opened in wonderment at the fat, heavy snowflakes that fell so thick that she could hear the whir in her ears as they rushed down, already covering the pavement.
Snow was a thing of myth and fable where she grew up in Las Vegas. She had seen it a few times, but nothing like what she was witnessing. Kat stood mesmerized on the sidewalk, her face tilted up to the falling snow. She held out her hand, watching the flakes hit her palm and shrink away as they melted.
She giggled, all of a sudden five years old again. She had to share the moment with Kiki.
Kat trotted around the building and into the alley, her boots crunching on the fallen snow as she made her way down the narrow passage to her car.
She walked around to her door and jiggled her keys into the slot. As her fingers twisted, a hand covered her mouth, and she screamed when she was yanked awkwardly into a man’s chest. He pressed his knife into the soft skin under her jaw.
“I told you it wasn’t over. Give me my money, cunt.”
Her heart slammed in her ears as one hand slowly reached into her jacket pocket, and the other fell back to her gun. She pulled her Ruger out of the back of her pants and turned the nose up into his ribs as her wrist screamed in protest.
He tensed when he realized what she’d done, and his hand at her neck flinched. She felt a drop of blood roll down her neck, though she didn’t feel the cut at all. She unlocked the safety, and his hands fell away.
She pivoted to face him, infuriated.
“You stupid motherfucker. You picked the wrong chick to fuck with.”
His hands were up in surrender as he backed away, and the snow fell all around them. She placed her other hand on the gun and stepped toward him.
“Don’t even come near me again. If you do, I will fuck you up beyond all recognition.” Her chin was down, and she took another step. “If I ever hear of you trying to screw anyone out of what they rightfully won from you, I’ll hunt you down.” She took another step, and he stumbled as he backed away. “And if you think you can pull one over on
He turned and slipped on the snowy pavement in his haste, leaving his handprints in the snow. He scrambled to his feet and took off in a run toward his car.
Kat clicked on the safety and stuffed her gun back in her pants, then climbed into her car. She looked in her rear view mirror at her black hair spotted with snowflakes, her pupils so big you could barely see the color, her cheeks, red from the cold and adrenaline.
She shook a little as she slid her keys into the ignition and drove back to her apartment, the snow forgotten.
Kat walked into the dark apartment and hung the key on the hook in the kitchen, her heart still thundering in her ears. She pulled the envelope out of her pocket and thumbed the stack of bills inside. Every race earned enough to take care of them for a month or more, though that one’s drama almost wasn’t worth it.
Kiki leaned on the bar and said, “I thought you weren’t racing.”
Kat jumped. “Fuck, Kiki. You scared me.” Her heart pounded even harder.
“Sorry, but what’s with the cash?”
Kat stuffed the envelope back in her pocket, not at all in the mood to argue. “Don’t, Kiki. Not now.”
“I’m just saying. You make a big deal about Eric, even to the point that you won’t date a guy that’s obviously perfect for you. Then you go race. Just a little contradictory, that’s all.”
“I said, don’t,” she warned. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I know you don’t, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need to.”
Kat walked out of the kitchen, shrugging off her leather jacket as she walked across the room. “I don’t want to, okay? Just drop it.” She hung her coat up and turned to face Kiki, whose arms were folded across her chest. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?” Kat waited for a response, and didn’t get one.
She pushed all of her own feelings down again as she stormed across the room and sat down at the dining room table. Her mouth twisted in a scowl, and she sat back in the chair, crossing her arms right back at Kiki.
“All right, Kiki. Go for it. Unload.”
Kiki marched over to stand in front of her. “You’re such a pain in the ass, you know that? You act like you’ve got things so fucking tough. Like you’re burdened with me.”
Kat’s mouth opened to protest, but Kiki put her hand out.
“You told me to unload. Don’t interrupt me.” Kat pinched her lips shut, and Kiki went on ranting. “You say that you’re worried about Eric. Well, you’ve got everybody watching his ass. Thirty people would call you if he left town. You say that you’re worried about Dad. Well, Dad doesn’t know shit because if he did, we would know. All of your excuses are bullshit. So, tell me. Why? Why won’t you go for Dillon? And don’t tell me it’s because you’re not into him.”
Kat lashed back. “Kiki, what if Eric leaves in the middle of the night? What if he doesn’t tell anyone? What if there’s a knock on the door, and it’s him? What do you think he’s going to do? What if I’m not here?”
“He’s not that dumb. God, I don’t know why you’re so psycho about this. He hit me. We left. It’s over.”
Kat stood and marched over to her. “You’re naive. You really think there’s zero chance he’s coming? It’s possible that he could just let it go. Or he could just be biding his time.” She folded her arms again and cocked her head. “Let’s say I get with Dillon, and I’m there all the time. Let’s say we’re up each other’s asses, always around each other. Going on dates. Going to dinner. Where are you? What if you and Owen are here and he shows up? Because he’d kill you, and he’d kill Owen too.”
Kiki’s face fell, and Kat took the opening. “Yeah. You were so worried about Eric’s life remaining intact, but what about Owen’s? Just by being with him, you put him in danger, too.”
Kat dropped her arms, and her voice went soft. “Listen, I’ll admit that I like Dillon, a lot, but there’s no way that I’m not going to be here if Eric comes.” Kat started to pace. “If Dillon and I got together, I’m not even sure what that would mean. I don’t know if we’d fight or fuck or turn into a couple of lovesick fools. But if even one of those possibilities becomes reality, I wouldn’t have my head in the game to look out for Eric.”
Kiki sat down at the table and pulled her knees in, and at that moment, she looked very, very small. “What if I told Dad?”
Kat stared at her, unmoving. “That would change things.”
Kiki’s brows were knit together as she looked at her feet. “Owen would be safe. You wouldn’t have to worry. You could let yourself go.”
“Don’t do this for me.”
“Would you at least call him and try?”
Kat considered the thought, and came up with an idea. “I’ll make you a deal. You call Dad, and I’ll call Dillon.”
Kiki chewed on her lip.
Kat sat down next to her sister. “You need to do this. Eric is dangerous, and I don’t think you’ll be safe until he’s dead.” She took in her sister, wide-eyed and afraid, and figured there was no time like the present. “Kiki, I didn’t want to tell you this … ”
“What? There’s more?” Her words were dry.
Kat took a deep breath. “Eric is looking for us, Kiki. That’s why I left Dillon’s yesterday. When I woke up, my phone was blown up with texts. Eric was grilling everyone the other night about where we were, and it’s to the point that people in Vegas are wondering what’s going on.”
Kiki’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wet before she buried her face in her palms. “This is all my fault.”
Kat rubbed her sister’s back. “It’s not your fault. It’s his fault. And it’s going to be okay. Just think of it like he’s going to go away. Poof.”
Kiki leaned into Kat. “I’m not six, Kat. I know what’s going to happen to him. I know it has to happen, but I don’t want to know how, or when. I just want it to be over. I’ll tell Dad.”
Kat nodded, and the sisters sat in silence, lost in thought.
Relief slowly crept through her mind and across her shoulders as she relaxed. It was going to end, really end. She thought about Dillon. His laugh rang in her ears, the memory of his hands on her body filled her thoughts. She wanted him. More than anything.
“When are you going to call Dad?”
Kiki shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to do it, though, and soon. It can’t go on. You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.”
“Stop apologizing.” Kat bumped her sister’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” she said again, and they laughed. “When are you going to call Dillon?”
“You first. Dillon and I can wait.”
“Promise you’ll call him?” Kiki’s eyes were big and wet, and she looked like a little girl.
Kat smiled. “I swear.” She chuckled and sat back. “That is, if he even wants to speak to me after the bitch move I pulled on him.”
“At least you know it was a bitch move.”
“I’m nothing if not honest.”
“Right. And moody, and contrary,” Kiki said.
“Can I blame my period?”
“Not unless you’re always on it.”
———— Olympus ————
Ares sat low on his couch, resting his head on the back as he stared up at the ceiling. He flipped his medallion around in his hand, feeling the smooth ebony and ivory, then flipped it again and rubbed his thumb along the ridges of the golden scales.
Nothing that he tried worked, and at that point, he was reaching.
Eric’s momentary freak out had caused a stir, but it was only temporary. The dick that Kat had raced had seemed like a good idea, but he ended up being dumber than Ares thought. The guy literally brought a knife to a gun fight.
Hera’s half-assed help was just as ineffective. He was running out of options, and Eric was looking more and more like the only way he could win. As competitive as he was, as much as he wanted to win, he just couldn’t. There was no way he was going to waste his shot at Dita.
If he got her in the end, then winning or losing the competition wouldn’t matter. He had considered throwing the competition all together, which would have been hard. Really hard. But he had to keep trying to win. Otherwise, she would know something was up.
If Adonis found a way to ruin Ares’ plans from beyond the grave, he was never going to get over it.
The minute Adonis became a man, Dita pulled away. She would watch him obsessively, meet him in secret. It drove Ares mad. He was not a god who liked to share. Especially her.
As she watched Adonis, Ares watched her, planning, plotting while he tried to keep his rage in check, knowing his situation was one that required caution. Until, of course, she threatened him. He would never have her again if he should harm Adonis. He had to agree to her terms. He had no options. Not until she pissed Apollo off so badly that he opened the door for Ares to rid himself of Adonis. And he did.
Or he thought he did.
The day that Persephone blessed Dita with the ability to be able to visit Elysium in her dreams, Ares raged. He went to Earth, whispering into the ears of men, driving them mad with fury until they fought to the death. He relished in their blood, watched their lives drain away, wished that he could kill Adonis again and again but knowing that he could never lay a finger on the mortal man who Aphrodite chose over him. Ares. The god of war.
And ever after, she had suspected him, pushed him away, and nothing he did or said could sway her. Except when they were competing. When she was forced to be around him, she couldn’t stop herself. He lived for those moments.
Perry took another bite of the giant brownie in her hand and chewed thoughtfully. “Are you sure you’re all right, Dita?”
Dita lay splayed out on her back on Perry’s living room floor, staring at the ceiling, absently playing with her hair. “No.”