Deviant Hearts: Chapter 9

The engagement party was one thing. But a week later, the true reality sets in: I move into Ares’ apartment the night before our wedding.

Yeah.

I stand in the near-emptiness of what was once my “dream apartment”, watching the movers slowly box up the rest of my stuff. And when I look up, through the windows, it’s even worse. Because across the street, I can see those same movers bringing my things into Ares’ penthouse.

It’s like he’s not just content with absorbing me into his world and making me his freaking bride. He has to take all my damn stuff, too. My books, my clothes, my keepsakes. It’s all being sucked into the dark Ares vortex, along with me and my apartment.

I think it’s the apartment that stings the most.

Moving out of the family house and into my own place was a huge step for me. And I’ve loved living here. But, as of an hour ago, it’s been sold, so the broker called to let me know.

That hurts.

I thought briefly about keeping it, even if I was forced to live across the street. But the idea of looking out the windows every day and seeing my dream just sitting here empty felt too sad even to contemplate.

Well, maybe now it’ll be someone else’s dream apartment. Someone who won’t have it yanked out from under them when they’re forced to marry the god of war himself.

The last of the moving boxes is carried out the door. And then, I’m alone in the emptiness.

I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. But it’s just Eilish. She gives me a sympathetic look, followed by a sly smile.

I frown. “What?”

“Well, I know how much moving out of the house and getting this place meant to you, and I know you’re sad to give it up.”

My face falls as I turn to survey the empty apartment.

“Yeah, it’s—”

“So I bought it.”

I stare at her. “I’m sorry, what?”

She grins at me. “I bought it. Honestly, Neve, you need a better agent. This was listed way under other comps in the neighborhood—”

I choke back tears as I hug her fiercely.

“Thank you. Look, I’ll pay you back—”

“Nope, you won’t. It’s my…” she shrugs. “My wedding present to you. Look, I know you have to live with Ares. But maybe you can use this place as an office or something?”

“You’re the greatest sister ever, you know that?”

“Well, duh.”

We both turn at the sound of a knock on the open door behind us. Calliope’s standing there, her eyes dragging around the empty space.

“Wow. This place is gorgeous. I love the light in here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Sorry you have to give it up and move into Ares’ place. At least he’s a tidy to a fault. And he’s obsessed with having clean sheets and towels. So, there’s that.”

I grin. “Actually, my amazing sister just made sure I can hang onto this place too.”

Calliope arches her brows, turning to grin at Eilish. “Man, how do I get a sister like you?” She frowns. “Or a sister at all, to counteract all the brothers?” She beams as she marches right over. “Hey, sorry, I don’t think we met at the engagement party. I’m Calliope.”

“Eilish, hey.”

Calliope turns to me. “So, what are you guys doing tonight?”

I shrug. “We were going to chill at home, maybe watch some movies and order Chinese food.”

Ares’ sister makes a face.

“Yeah, that’s good…too.”

I laugh. “I don’t know. It’s not like I want to go out and celebrate like it’s a real wedding tomorrow. I mean, no offense, but—”

“Oh, none taken.” Calliope chews on her lip before she turns to me. “Are you dead set on the Chinese food and movies thing?”

“Not really.”

Eilish shrugs. “I’m in for whatever Neve wants to do.”

Calliope clears her throat. “Can I make a counter-suggestion, then?”

“Sure.”

She grins at Eilish and I.

“Do you guys like dancing?”

Four hours later, I’m legit drunk.

But I’m also having the time of my life. Calliope has brought us to this place called The Deep somewhere in Brooklyn. It’s got super fun thudding 80’s dance music blasting, amazing cocktails, and a very, ahh, lax policy on checking Calliope’s ID at the front door.

The three of us are having a ball.

“Cheers!!”

I let out a whoop, each of us dropping a shot of raspberry vodka into a pint glass of prosecco with a float of vanilla rum on the top. The shot glass hits the bottom, turning the whole glass into a magical-looking bubbling pink concoction that we quickly bring to our lips. We gulp them down in record time, laughing our asses off when we slam the empty pint glasses down on the bar.

We’re getting good at drinking these without spilling them everywhere. I mean, we sure as hell should be, considering it’s our fourth round.

“Let’s do another!”

Eilish, who drinks, but is a total lightweight, shoots me a “please no” look. I mean, she’s having fun, but it’s also clear that that last round is probably her limit for the night.

But me? Tonight, I’m drinking like I’m on a mission. Anything to avoid thinking about the fact that tomorrow I’ll be getting married to a man I hardly know.

“Okay, okay, just two.” I grin a sloppy, indulgent grin at my sister before I turn to flag down the bartender.

A big hand clamps down on my wrist, pulling my hand back down.

“I think that’s enough, kid.”

I turn to glare at Castle.

“Oh look, someone invited a party pooper along!”

He gives me a look.

“C’mon, Neve. Look, I get it. You want to cut loose, have some fun. So have fun. But getting shit-faced is the opposite of that.”

I roll my eyes.

“Who even invited you, anyway?”

He’s been here the whole time, hurling disapproving looks at me from the far end of the bar, where he’s been nursing the same ginger ale for three fucking hours.

“My job invited me. You know, the one where I’m tasked with making sure your drunk ass doesn’t get into any trouble?”

Calliope snorts, shooting Castle a look before glancing at me.

“I like him.”

“Great, you can have him. That’s my bachelorette party gift to you.”

“Ooo, can I keep him?”

“Yep!”

“No,” Castle mutters at the exact same time. He turns back to me. “Go dance and have fun, kid. Knock yourself out. But the bar is closed.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Okay.”

I glare at him one last time before Eilish and Callie pull me away.

“C’mon, Neve, you love this song,” my sister grins at me—obviously way past buzzed but still not as drunk as Callie and I are.

She’s not wrong. I fucking love Madonna’s “Into the Groove”.

“Ugh, fine, let’s go dance,” I blurt, letting Eilish pull me away. Castle gives me a firm look before he slinks back to his ginger ale at the far end of the bar.

“I’m just grabbing a water!” Callie yells over the music. “I’ll meet you out there!”

Eilish and I melt into the crowd on the dance floor, and I let go. I close my eyes, throw my hands up, and just fucking dance as the alcohol and serotonin course through my bloodstream. I feel the heat of the club, feel my hair sticking to my forehead, feel the sweat trickling down the small of my back.

One last night of freedom, before I’m chained to Ares forever.

And until then, Eilish and I are going to dance our asses off. We’re having a blast doing it, too. I cheer when I realize Callie has rejoined us, turning to give her a big drunken hug.

“Psst. Brought you something.”

I glance down between us to realize she’s very deftly holding two pints of prosecco with vanilla rum floats, and two shots of pink raspberry vodka. When I drag my eyes up to hers, she’s grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m going to really love being your sister-in-law, aren’t I?”

“Yup!”

I glance back at Eilish, who just laughs and shakes her head.

“Hey, it’s your bachelorette party.”

“Heeellll yes it is!”

I turn back, clink my pint glass to Callie’s and drop in the shot.

“Cheers!”

I have no idea what time it is, but I know I’m wasted. Like, very, very wasted, especially after Callie managed to sneak two more rounds of drinks past a watchful Castle.

Out on the dance floor, I’m a hot mess, but I’m having an absolute blast—dancing like a maniac, soaked in sweat, my hair all over the place. I have no idea where I got it, but there’s a glass of whiskey in my hand. I grin wildly as I take a big slug of it and throw my head back to scream up at the ceiling through the roar of the music.

…Which abruptly shuts off.

The ugly lights go on, blinding me as a sea of boos from the other patrons fills the space. I turn to Callie to see her looking equally as confused as I am. It can’t be closing time already. I turn unsteadily, find Eilish, then watch as her face scrunches up, her gaze sliding past me.

“Oh shit, Neve…”

“What—HEY!“

I scream, thrashing as strong hands grab my arms, yanking me back through the crowd.

“HEY!! HELP! Somebody HELP!”

Fear explodes in my drunk brain.

“CASTLE! Castle!”

When I whip my head around and see him standing almost right next to me, brow furrowed and arms crossed over his chest doing nothing, I balk.

“What the fuck are you—”

“I told you fucking chill, kid,” he mutters.

I thrash some more as I’m suddenly lifted up three steps to the door to the club and then yanked through it and out into the cool of the night. The hands let me go, and I whirl on the two enormous men who dragged me unceremoniously out of the club.

“Who the fuck do you think you—”

“Neve.”

I stiffen instantly. Even with the alcohol blurring and dulling my senses, I can feel the sheer power of his voice rumbling from behind me.

I swallow, the fresh air suddenly making me feel way, way drunker than I did inside the club. I sway on my feet, frowning as the world spins a little before I manage to turn to face him with only the smallest stumble.

Ares, clad in a dark suit, glares down at me beside the open door to a black SUV.

“Party’s over. Get in the fucking car.”

My lips purse.

“No.”

Ares’ jaw grinds, the muscles in his neck rippling dangerously.

“You’ve had your fun. Your bachelorette. But we’re getting married tomorrow. You’re done. Get in.”

My stomach churns, making me blanch as I try to steady myself.

“I don’t think we understand each other.”

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not doing this with you on the side of the street. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car.”

“See, you think marrying me—which, by the way, I am supremely against, in case anyone’s curious—”

“I’m not, actually—”

“Means that you own me.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not—”

“Oh, no, I think it is. See, you want some skanky Cartel chick with her tits falling out who’ll say yes, Ares! Whatever you want, Ares!”

“Neve, get—”

That’s when I realize I’m still holding my glass of whiskey. And everyone—Eilish, Castle, Callie, the guards, Ares himself—very quickly goes silent and still when the contents of that glass sloshes into Ares’ face.

“But, the thing is,” I slur, feeling the world spin around me. “You don’t actually own…own…”

Fuck.

It happens before I can even move. The God-knows-how-many prosecco and raspberry vodka cocktails I’ve consumed on an almost empty stomach come rushing back out to say hello…

…All over Ares’ shoes.

That’s when I black out.