Page 26 of Martyr (Sterling Falls Rogues #3)

“You cannot go.”

I burst out laughing. The sentence is so funny—so unusual and unexpected—my stomach cramps. I double over, still howling. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

“Not right now,” he amends.

The humor seeps from me. I straighten, blinking rapidly. “You weren’t joking?”

Ouranos looks at me blankly and doesn’t answer.

I stiffen. “The one thing I care about—and you’ll deny me?”

He sighs. He sits on his throne—a booth along the back wall of his bar—and swirls the whiskey in his glass. It must be a little demeaning to slide his bum across the leather to remove himself from it. I think I’d like to see that, just to get a snicker in. But right now is no laughing matter.

I spin away abruptly, pacing the length of the empty bar. The stools are all tucked away, the booths wiped down. Everything in this wretched place is so tidy .

Enough of that. I plant my hands on the bar top and spring up, hopping over with ease. I land amongst the liquor bottles and glasses, the empty chest that will hold ice when this place opens.

If it opens.

The bartender comes out from the back and stops short.

I pick up a bottle of whiskey. “How much does this cost?”

The bartender glances at his boss, then back at me. “For you, sir? N-nothing.”

“Oh, goodie.” I twist off the cap and upend the bottle. The amber liquid splashes the rubber mat under my feet, droplets getting on my boots. It goes and goes, until there’s nothing left. I pivot and whip it across the room, and the bottle shatters on the far wall.

I crack my neck and grab another bottle. Vodka.

“This one?”

“I—”

“It’s only a tantrum,” Ouranos interrupts. “You may leave us.”

The bartender turns and flees. I chuck the bottle at his head, and it explodes against the doorframe just beside him. He gives a yelp and moves faster, disappearing from view.

Pity.

“Are you about done?” Ouranos asks.

I find the glasses, all in neat rows, and fling them to the floor.

Shards everywhere.

There’s a baseball bat under here, too. For unruly guests?

It has a nice weight to it. I bounce it up and down, my grip firm, then heft it.

It slips from my grasp and flies into the shelves of liquor.

It breaks more than a few, knocks some loose, the glass shelving cracks.

Everything is so unstable . One rogue person…

“Enough.”

I tilt my head, ignoring that his voice is suddenly a lot closer. He’s not over the bar, yet, but I think I could push him into that. I smile to myself and pick up the bat again, this time keeping a hold of it when I swing. It has a lot more power that way.

“My parents didn’t get me into sports,” I say. I lift the bat over my head and bring it down straight in front of me. “Never got to toss a ball with dear ol’ dad— oof .”

Ouranos catches the back of my neck and shoves me down with surprising strength.

My cheek cracks into the counter, bits of glass slicing my skin.

The pain isn’t off-putting. I’ve always welcomed it with open arms, and this time is no different.

Not his firm grip, not the glass. Not the way my body contorts.

More , I want to shout.

“You work for me,” Ouranos says in my ear. “You do what I say, when I say it. You do not defy orders simply because you think you know better—or because your time is more important than mine.”

I exhale. “What are you ordering?”

“We have a new business venture. One you’re decidedly experienced in.”

My eyebrows rise. “Torture?”

“No.”

“Blowing things up?”

“ No .”

I smack my lips. “Hmm. Um?—”

“ Terror ,” he breathes. “You’re going to help me get Terror back into working order.”

I’m not used to fear. I stopped being afraid a long time ago. But now, it pulses through me. My heart thumps extra-hard, so much so that I wonder if Ouranos can feel it through his fingers.

He releases me and removes the bat from my hand. He moves away, exiting the bar by normal means. He returns to his booth, to his drink, and sips it idly. His gaze, however, returns to mine. His expression is sharp and expectant.

“I—” I wet my lips. My voice has deserted me.

Ouranos sighs, long and slow. “I was a patron, once upon a time. It was a marvelous place for those who needed a little… extra . For pleasure. A fascinating concept. A wonderful moneymaker. My brother got me in touch with the owner, and I was able to invest. It paid dividends . It put me where I am today. And, as the last investor, Terror rightfully belongs to me.”

“And the part about needing revenge for your brother?”

He dips his chin. “A half-truth. Or, killing a couple birds with one stone. I take over Sterling Falls, I kill the man who murdered Wesley, and I bring Terror to its former glory.”

I turn away. I need… something . Something beyond this conversation, beyond his plans. They swarm in my head, all his words like individual bees making a collective, dissonant buzz.

“I’ve overwhelmed you.” Ouranos sighs. “Go, then. Slink off and regain control over your mind. And while you’re at it—find Kade. His leash has been far too slack of late.”

I manage to walk out the door. I keep my steps even, pace controlled down the sidewalk, and turn into the alley. I pause at my bike— stolen bike —and catch a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors. The side of my face is bloody, and there are still bits of glass stuck to my skin.

The pain isn’t there, though. It’s secondary to the incessant buzzing.

I slide the helmet on and flip the visor down, obscuring my face.

Slink off and regain control . Seems he’s always wanting me in one form or another, and it’s never where I am.

Find Kade . My faithful sparring partner. He has no connection to Terror, but Artemis does. And Kade’s little friend, Reese… he does, too.

I don’t really care about finding Kade, but I need a distraction. Something to shut off this noise in my head. You cannot go—that’s what he said. When I asked about Lyssa. Something is wrong, and I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go.

I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot go. I cannot?—

I slap myself.

It doesn’t help. The helmet protects my face from any pain. I slap my head, over and over, trying to get the words to shut off. The buzzing gets louder. His voice gets louder.

Find Kade. Slink off. You cannot go .

My skin itches all over. There’s something inside me that’s getting worse and worse, and soon enough, I’ll explode. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

But then again—I never do.