Josie looked like an angel, a fiery angel with eyes that could stop the world from turning, her cheeks pink and wet with her tears. Don’t cry, he thought he said out loud, but he couldn’t move his lips. He wanted to touch her face, but his hands laid still. I love you, he tried to say as she shrank in his vision. She turned and yelled to someone behind her, then looked back at him, and he said goodbye.
———— Olympus ————
The silence in the theater room was interrupted by a small sob. Artemis stood staring at the screen, motionless as paramedics ran to Jon, pumping his dead heart, laying electric pads on his chest to shock him with a jolt. Josie stood and backed away with her hands on her mouth, her eyes full of horror. She jumped when his body thumped against the ground, a gasping sob the only sound that escaped her.
As the seconds stretched on, Artemis knew what she must do. Winning was irrelevant, the competition irrelevant. She saw Orion as he died in her arms, felt the loss rip through her, and in that moment her life connected with Josie’s in a way she hadn’t been able to grasp. She could save Josie from the suffering she was sure to endure, the pain that Artemis knew so well. She could save Jon from Orion’s fate. She could set everything to rights.
Artemis reached into the pouch on her belt and retrieved one of Apollo’s tokens. She crossed the room and handed it to him.
“Save him, please.”
Apollo nodded and turned his attention to the screen. He glowed, his lips and eyes illuminated, brighter and brighter until she could no longer look and shielded her eyes against the light.
The paramedic felt for Jon’s pulse. “I’ve got a heartbeat,” he yelled, and Josie fell to her knees.
The room let out a collective sigh, and one of the gods let out a whoop, followed by soft chuckles.
Aphrodite rushed her, almost knocking her down with an embrace. “Thank you, Artemis. Thank you,” she whispered.
Artemis hugged her back, relieved and exhausted. “It was the only thing to do.”
Aphrodite released her, and the look on her face spoke volumes. They turned to the screen where Jon laid on a stretcher being wheeled toward an ambulance.
A police officer laid a blanket over Josie’s shoulders as she watched them take Jon away. Two detectives made their way to her and pulled out pads and pens to take her statement, and she stood, numb and cold, barely aware as the sun rose behind her, and the sky caught fire with her heart.
Day 13
JOSIE SAT NEXT TO HIS hospital bed with her hand in his, listening to the machines beep, willing him to wake.
They said he was lucky. He died for almost a full minute before the paramedics started his heart again, and they told her they wouldn’t know if he would be all right until he woke up, if he woke up. They were the words that Josie had to repeat to Tori, and they cried together, not knowing what their futures would hold.
And then, Josie waited. She wished and hoped. She tried not to cry, but when the night fell and the hospital was dark and quiet, her tears fell as she sat next to him, begging him to open his eyes. Wanting to hear her name on his lips. She thought of every word she’d said to him, every mistake she’d made. He’d given so much of himself, and she would do anything, give anything for the chance to make him happy after she’d caused him so much pain.
Her body ached from sitting in the stiff chair she’d pulled up to his hospital bed. Her fingers were wrapped around his as she stroked his arm around the hospital bracelets and IV, but the contact wasn’t enough. She climbed into bed with him awkwardly, not caring about her own comfort, only wanting to be close to him. She slid down on the bed and laid her head gently in the crook of his shoulder, her abdomen clenching at the thought of the bullet hole in his chest as she listened to his heart beat.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” she said as hot tears burned the corners of her eyes, “but I need to tell you what I should have said from the start. Not just before today or yesterday, but when you came back, and before that even.”
She took a shaky breath. “All of these years, I have loved you, even when I wouldn’t admit it to myself, and even when I shouldn’t. It’s always been you, from the minute I first saw you until now and every moment in between. I love you, and I need you, and you can’t die. You can’t …” she sobbed. “You saved more than my life, Jon. You brought me back from the dead and showed me how to live again. I was lost, and you never gave up. You never let me go, even at my worst, and you have to wake up. Please, you have to … you have to be okay because I don’t want to live without you, so please, come back to me. Come back.”
Her eyes were pinned shut, her fingers clutching his hospital gown, her heart ripping to shreds as she held on to him like she’d sink if she let go.
“Don’t cry, Josie.” The words were weak and thin, barely a whisper, and she felt his hand in her hair.
She sat up, dumbfounded, blinking at him as he smiled at her, his eyes the color of a summer sky.
“I always knew you still loved me. That’s why I never gave up. Took you long enough to figure it out.”
She laughed and cried as she leaned over him, laying kisses on his lips, his cheeks, “Jon. My God, Jon,” she said in wonder as she held his face. “Nurse,” she called over her shoulder and fumbled for his call button.
“Jo,” he whispered.
“What?” she answered, concerned.
“You think you could quit gettin’ me shot at?”
“I’ll try,” she said, punctuating her promise with a kiss.
The nurse rushed in, and Josie moved out of the way as she checked the machines and helped him take a drink of water. He teased and charmed her like he did everyone, even after everything he’d been through, and Josie stood stupidly at the foot of his hospital bed with her fingers to her lips, giggling through her tears, marveling at Jon, whole and alive.
Once the nurse left, Josie took her place standing next to his bed. He looked up at her with sparkling eyes and reached for her hand. “I have something I wanted to give you.”
“Give me? How?”
“Where’s my bag?”
“It’s right here.”
He jerked his chin toward it. “Go look in the outside pocket for my notebook.”
She sat down in the hospital chair and dug through his bag until she found the blue notebook. She held it up, and he nodded.
“Open it.”
Josie did as she was told and looked up at him, astonished when she saw her name at the top of what looked like a letter.
“Read it.”
And so, she did.
Josie,
I’ve written and rewritten this letter a hundred times and fifty ways, but the words have never been right. I’ll never do my heart justice, but know that these words are straight from there.
I remember the first time I saw you. It was summertime, and you were walking with Anne down the sidewalk outside of the station. I stopped dead in my tracks, though I don’t think you ever saw me. You laughed at something Anne said, and your smile stopped my heart. I knew right then that I loved you.
I’ve thought about you every day, wondered if I’d ever see you again, wondered if you’d ever forgive me as life passed by around me. I was a thousand miles away, far from anything that would remind me of you, but I found you everywhere. I’d see you at a restaurant or walking down the street. I’d hear a song or catch a scent, and you were there.
I thought I would get over you, but in all truth, I think I grew to love you more.
When we came back, I hoped I could get a second chance, and I won’t give up until you understand that I never meant to hurt you. I can’t give up because I love you.
-Jon
Josie set the notebook down and looked up at him from behind her tears. His shining eyes were on her as she moved to sit next to him on the bed and brushed his hair from his face, tracing the line of his jaw that was covered in stubble. Her hand came to rest on his cheek, and he leaned into her palm.
“How could I have been so blind?” she asked.
“No, Josie.” He rested his hand over hers. “Don’t. Just love me. Just say that you’ll love me.”
She could barely speak as her tears sped down her cheeks, and she looked into his eyes and told him the truth. “I will love you forever.”
He closed his eyes, as he turned to kiss her palm. His tears fell, and their hearts mended as they came together, and nothing would keep them apart.
———— Olympus ————
Dita walked the path to Artemis’ pond with her hands in her pockets, the only sound around her the wind in the trees as she thought over the last day, the last week, the last month, and how everything had changed. Jon was alive, the competition was over, and she had won. She didn’t even care about winning at that point, though. Jon had to live, and thank the gods he did. He and Josie could be together, and they’d be together forever, if she had her way.
She smiled down at the path.
The empty camp stretched out before her when she rounded a bend. Artemis sat atop her stone perch, and she looked down at Dita with a smile, motioning for her to come up. It was awkward business, climbing the rock, but she made it to the top without getting winded, which she considered a win.
“Aphrodite,” Artemis bowed her head.
“Artemis,” Dita answered as she sat down on the warm slate next to Artemis.
“I suppose you came for this?” Artemis held out her token.
“Why, no, that’s not why I came. But I will take that, thank you.” The token lay in her palm, the twin to Apollo’s sun token. The moon hung inside, bright on one side, black as pitch on the other. It glowed dreamily, and when she held it to her ear, it played the songs of crickets chirping so slowly that it sounded like a symphony.
“And did you bring that humble pie I promised to eat should I lose?”
“No, but I did bring this.” Dita snapped her fingers, and a bowl of Cheerios appeared between them next to a spoon on a napkin.
Artemis laughed, the sound genuine and merry.
“You weren’t in the theater room when the competition ended today,” Dita said as she closed her fingers around the token and hooked her arms around her knees.
“No, I was not.”
“Are you all right?”
“You care?” she asked with a glance and a raised eyebrow.
“Artemis, of course I care.”
Artemis smiled. “I am well. I knew that I would lose the moment Apollo saved Jon. Before that, really.”
“You saved him.” Dita insisted.
“Semantics,” Artemis said with a shrug.
“Thank you. It’s not enough, but thank you.”
Artemis looked away. “I couldn’t do it.”
“Do what?”
Her eyes were on the distant mountains. “Jon was lying in her arms, and I couldn’t let him die. I could give Josie something I cannot have. Love.”
“Artemis—”
“I loved him, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” Dita understood better than just about anyone could.
“I didn’t know what to do about it, at the time. I never was able to be with him, but he was mine, and I was his. I am his. I will forever be his, but my life has not been full of living. I have been blinded by my anger and hurt for so long, but that changes now.”
“It happens to all of us. Even those of us who should know love better than anyone.”
Artemis met Dita’s eyes. “I am sorry for what I’ve said and done. It was cruel.”
“It was true. It’s still true.”
“But knowledge is the first step to moving forward, I’ve found. Once you know a thing, you cannot un-ring the bell. The knowledge is yours, and the knowing changes you.”
“Wise words,” Dita said with a nod.
“From a stubborn goddess.” Artemis smirked.
Dita snorted. “Uh, have you been to Olympus recently? Because I’m pretty sure the first synonym for goddess is stubborn, right next to incorrigible and short-sighted.”
“Well, let us be sure to do our namesake proud,” Artemis answered with a laugh, and as the goddesses sat in the sun, Aphrodite found hope that they would both survive their past.
Dita waited until Artemis had eaten her entire bowl of cereal before she climbed down the rock and walked up the path and into the elevator, bound for Ares’ apartment. She smoothed her shirt and wiped her sweaty palms on her back pockets. It was the day of the awkward talks, and she was determined to get through it, convincing herself that she was prepared. But when the door opened into Ares’ foyer, she froze. It took all of her willpower to take a step instead of pushing any or all buttons on the elevator to get it to close so she could vacate the premises.
He came out of his bedroom and stood stock still when he saw her.
“Dita?” His dark eyes on her were like cold, demanding fingers against her skin, running a chill up her spine.
“Can we talk?” she asked with more confidence than she felt.
“Of course.”
She watched him as he walked across the room and sat on the couch, and she followed, keeping a wide distance. He was graceful and muscular, beautiful and deadly. She moved to sit on the couch opposite him with trembling hands.
Dita braced herself, repeating her speech in her mind before opening with the disclaimer, “I don’t want to fight, and I don’t want you to touch me. Can you agree to that?”
He nodded.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry and sticky. She held her chin up and sat straight. “I’m not going to hide in my apartment for eternity because I don’t want to see you. We’ve got to live with each other. But I need to know that you won’t hurt me again.”
His face was blank as he watched her, not hearing her, just like Perry predicted. “I don’t know what to say, Dita. You know how I feel about you.”
“I do know. But we’re through. I need you to let me go.”
He slung his big arm over the back of his chair and shook his head. “How do you suggest I do that? I haven’t been able to shake you for my entire, eternal life.”
“You’ve got to find a way. I need you to leave me alone. If you love me, can you do that? For me? Can you let me heal?”
“I can give you time.”
“Time can’t fix what you’ve done,” she fired back. “You can’t go back and leave Adonis alive. You can’t undo the lies, the countless lies you’ve told. You can’t turn back the clock to a time where you didn’t hurt me. You can’t erase it, and I can’t love someone who would betray me the way that you have.”
“You say that now—”
“I’m not going to change my mind.” The finality in her words surprised her, but she felt them all the way through her and knew they were honest and real the moment they left her lips.
“I can wait to see if that’s true or not.” He was patronizing her, she realized. He still didn’t believe, couldn’t grasp it, though she had always known it was an impossible thing to ask of him.
“You’ll be waiting forever.”
“We’ll see.”
She pursed her lips and took a breath, allowing him the last word even though it killed her not to argue. “Can we agree to a truce?”
“You need time and space, and I will give you that. For now.”
“Some day, you will understand that this is it.” She stood and left for the elevator. “See you around.”
“Yes, you will.”
Day 21
JON FOLLOWED JOSIE INTO HER apartment, and she dropped his bag next to the door. He reached for it as she closed the door behind them.
“Ah, ah!” She slapped his hand. “Doc said no lifting anything over five pounds for two weeks.”
“It’s a duffle bag full of socks and underwear. I think I can handle it.”
“You got shot in the chest, asshole.” Josie said with an eye roll and a smile.
“And then made a miraculous recovery because I am just that
epic.” He smiled smug, and that single tug of his lips practically made her panties burst into flames.
“Okay, Mr. Epic Man of Steel, you indestructible favorite of the gods.” She grabbed the bag and made for her bedroom. “Jeeze, I can’t leave you alone for two seconds.”
“You better not.” He looked around as he followed her. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He motioned to the wall where the crime shrine had been replaced with paintings and a framed photo of her and Anne.
“Yeah,” she said over her shoulder, “that wall was creepy. How come nobody told me?”
“Ha, ha.”
She winked at him.
They spent a week in Washington while he recovered, and it was indeed miraculous. She was partly convinced he was superhuman after the doctors insisted he’d be there for two weeks, but he’d healed well enough to go home after only one. The nurses made a huge fuss about it, but they loved to fuss over Jon anyway. It was a rewarding business.
The Spokane police recovered Rhodes’ belongings, the most notable being the jewelry box that housed every trophy from every kill. It would mean closure for so many families and loved ones, and his death meant safety for countless more.
Josie had flown back while Jon was recovering, just for a few days, long enough to pull down the crime shrine and enter Anne’s room again. She had dropped to the floor at the end of her bed and cried until her tears ran dry, remembering her friend. Letting her go.
Josie passed the threshold of her bedroom and set his bag next to the bed.
“Damn, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about being in this room again,” he said from behind her.
She turned to find him leaning against the door frame with his arms across his chest and a crooked smile on his face.
“Oh, is that so?”
“Mmhmm.” He pushed off the door and walked across the room to where she stood, stopping close enough that they were almost touching. He looked down at her as she tilted her face to his.