My throat goes a little tight, but I breathe past it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not the one being threatened right now.”
“Your mother just steamrolled right over you as if you were a child. That can’t feel good.”
It doesn’t. It really fucking doesn’t. But then, I have no illusions about the role I play in my mother’s life. Always in support of her ambitions, her needs, her whims. She might tolerate my occasional pushing back, but I am a tool for her to pick up and use at her leisure.
I sigh. “My mother is a simple creature when it boils down to it. She lavishes praise and rewards on me when I do exactly what she wants, and she punishes me when I step out of line. I went against her will when I married you, so punishment it is.” On the surface, I suppose that’s how most people parent. I honestly have no idea. It just feels so fucking insidious with my mother.
“Eros, that’s terrible.”
I let her concern wash over me. It feels good, far better than I deserve. “Don’t worry about me, Psyche. We’ll find a way through this.”
For a moment, I think she’ll keep arguing, keep digging, but she finally nods. “We need to talk about next steps.”
“Not yet.” I take her hand. I enjoy touching her so much, and not even in a way that’s confined to sex. It still feels a little baffling that I can do it whenever I want. This casual intimacy might be a small thing, but it’s an experience I’ve never had before. More, touching her calms me in a way I’m not prepared to deal with. “I want to show you something.”
“Eros.” She gives an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think showing me your dick right now will solve any of our problems.”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” I lead her to the locked door across from my safe room and pull her to stand before me. “Pay very close attention and memorize this.” I type out the code slowly. “Repeat it back to me.”
Psyche does, flawlessly. “What is this?”
Instead of answering with words, I push the door open and nudge her in ahead of me. I don’t let her get far before I turn her back to the door. “This is reinforced. It can take machine-gun fire without punching through, at least long enough for Ares’s people to show up. The walls are the same.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s a lot of reinforcement.”
“It’s a safe room. If you’re home alone for some reason and get spooked, come here. I keep several burner phones charged, so you can call out for help.” I motion to the bright-red box near the door. “This will call Ares’s forces.”
If anything, her eyes get wider. “Not the police?”
“The police are for civilians.” It stands to reason that she’d default to the police in a situation like this, though. The current Ares and Demeter don’t get along, so of course she won’t trust his private military with the safety of her family, even if that’s their official role. Most of the Thirteen have some sort of private security they contract for themselves and their families, but we can’t trust Aphrodite’s people for obvious reason. No, it has to be Ares.
She gives herself a little shake. “I suppose that’s fair.” Psyche turns and looks at the trio of monitors set up around my chair, at the filing cabinets. “This isn’t just a safe room.”
“No, it’s not just a safe room.”
She glances at me. “You’re putting an undeserved amount of faith in me by giving me access to all this.”
I shrug with a nonchalance I don’t feel. “I promised that I’d keep you safe. That promise extends to when you’re not in my presence. This is one of the safest spots this side of the River Styx. Not even Hermes can get inside.”
She looks at the room with new appreciation. “That is safe. I swear that woman is half ghost and can sift through the vents.”
“Nothing so exciting. She’s just an excellent thief and hacker.” She was long before she became Hermes, but that part isn’t known publicly. In fact, not much at all is known publicly about her. She prefers it that way.
“You talk like she’s a friend.”
“She…is. Or as near to it as one gets in this city.”
Psyche’s smile is bittersweet. “Olympus continues to be quite the qualifier.”
“It’s home.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She presses her lips together as if not sure what to say. “Thank you for showing me this. I promise to try not to abuse it.”
That draws a laugh from me. “I appreciate your attempt at restraint.” We go back into the hall and I have her input the code enough times that I’m sure she can do it under duress. We’ll do this in a couple of days to be sure, but it’s the bare minimum I can accomplish right now. It does little to combat how loose around the edges I feel at the thought of my mother’s knife pointed in Psyche’s direction. I promised that this marriage would change things, and in the end, it’s changed nothing.