CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HADES

Everything was fine until my mom brought up school. That was always the trigger. She asked how my classes were going, her voice soft and cautious, but it didn’t matter. Mike—my father—immediately bristled, his beer bottle clinking loudly as he slammed it on the table.

“Why the hell do you keep wasting money on that fancy-ass school?” he barked, glaring at her. “You think he’s gonna be some big-shot? He’s just like me.”

I clenched my fists, my body tensing before the words even fully landed. This wasn’t new. The insults, the shouting, the way he tore her down and blamed me for everything. But tonight, it was worse.

“Shut up, Mike,” I growled, my voice low.

“What did you just say to me?” he sneered, standing up and towering over me.

“You heard me,” I snapped, stepping closer, not backing down.

The first punch landed on my shoulder, but I barely flinched. I was used to this now. A few weeks ago, I’d decided I wasn’t taking his crap anymore. I wasn’t going to let him push me around like some scared kid. So, I started hitting back.

And tonight was no different.

His fist came toward me again, but I ducked and threw my own punch, connecting with his side. He stumbled, cursing loudly. My mom was crying in the corner, begging us to stop, but neither of us listened. The anger boiling inside me was too much, and I couldn’t stop myself.

We grappled, knocking over a chair and sending a lamp crashing to the ground. The room was chaos—shouts, grunts, breaking glass. It was the same cycle over and over, and I was so damn tired of it.

Then, there was a knock on the door.

We both froze, breathing heavily, fists still clenched. Mike glared at me, muttering something under his breath, but I ignored him. My heart was racing, and not just from the fight. Who the hell would be here this late?

I shoved past him and yanked the door open, ready to tell whoever it was to get lost. But when I saw who was standing there, the words died in my throat.

Lara.

She was standing on my crumbling porch, her arms wrapped around herself like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to run or stay. Her wide eyes met mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I finally managed, my voice sharper than I intended.

She blinked, her gaze flickering past me to the chaos inside. I could see her piecing things together—the broken lamp, my mom’s muffled sobs, the tension that hung heavy in the air.

“I… I was worried about you,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding in my head.

My stomach twisted. I didn’t know whether to be angry, embarrassed, or something else entirely. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t see this.

“You need to leave,” I said, stepping halfway out the door and lowering my voice. “This isn’t your problem.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the fire in them, the same fire that had drawn me to her in the first place. “It became my problem the moment I heard screaming,” she shot back.

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, Mike’s voice rang out from behind me.

“Who’s that, huh? Another one of your fancy-school friends?” He stumbled into view, his sneer twisting into something even uglier.

Lara’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down.

I turned to glare at him. “Shut up, Mike. Go back inside.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you? You think you’re better than me?”

“Get inside,” I growled, my fists clenching again.

To my surprise, Lara stepped forward. “Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She was looking at me, not him. “Don’t give him what he wants.”

Her words hit me harder than any punch. For a moment, I just stared at her, the fight draining out of me.

Mike muttered something under his breath and disappeared back into the house, leaving the two of us alone on the porch.

I leaned against the doorframe, running a hand through my hair and exhaling sharply. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“And you shouldn’t have to live like this,” she said, her voice steady.

I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what to say.

I stayed leaned against the doorframe, looking at Lara, who still hadn’t moved. The way she stood there—unwavering, her eyes locked on mine—it was like she was daring me to argue with her. But I couldn’t. Not when her words hit closer than I wanted to admit.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but firm. “But I’m not going anywhere, Hades. Not until you let me help you figure this out.” She crossed her arms, the faintest hint of defiance on her face, and for the first time tonight, I felt the weight of it all begin to shift—because even though I didn’t want her here, a small part of me was relieved she’d come.