Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Where am I?” I somehow croak, realizing I’m laying in a bed and my body doesn’t want to move. It’s screaming at me as I try to sit, demanding I stay in place.
“You and your brother got into an accident,” Daphne says, pushing against my chest so I have no choice but to lay back down and stop trying to fight the gravity that weighs heavier than normal. “The helicopter went down. You’re in the hospital, but they say you’re going to be just fine.”
My vision is clearing enough that I can see the worry on her face as she rubs my arm with the free hand that isn’t holding my other. I’m not sure why she’s touching me in such a way, but I’m uncomfortable with it. She’s my brother’s wife, and this feels more than just how a sister-in-law would comfort her family member. When I pull my hand free from hers, I see a flicker of…pain? She places her hands into her lap, looks down at her feet, scoots her chair back, does what my father first asked, and gives me some space.
My father approaches the bed. “You’re lucky to be alive, son.”
I suppose I am alive, even though my body still questions that fact. Everything fucking hurts.
“The helicopter crashed?” I ask, not being able to remember it doing so.
“It looks like you flew into some weather coming back from the island,” my father says.
I blink the last of the fog away and scan the room. Athena is leaning against the wall, appearing cool and collected, but I know my sister. The dark circles under her eyes, and the way she chews her bottom lip, tells me she’s been worried; maybe still is. The nurse is checking the machines, and writing something down on a clipboard, and the doctor has just left the room as I only see his back before the door closes.
“Where’s my brother?”
No one answers, but they all dart their eyes from one another. Apollo was in the chopper with me. If it went down, then he did too.
“He didn’t make it,” my father finally says, not even pausing to ease into the icy cold water of truth.
Daphne scoots her chair back to my side and touches my arm as she says in a much softer tone than my father, “He died in the accident.”
Oh, Jesus… That explains the pain in Daphne’s eyes. The reason she’s touching me for comfort. She just lost her husband—
My brother…
My brother…
Oh god no. Apollo? This can’t be—
No.
I try to sit up to hunt him down and prove this is all a mistake, but the tidal wave of shock and grief is paralyzing me. My heart breaks into a million pieces, and I can’t even fall apart and cry since everyone is staring at me. Everyone is watching my every fucking move. Godwins don’t cry. We only show one emotion—rage.
This is all a mistake. This is me being drugged. I’m hearing this wrong. I’m hallucinating. I’m in purgatory between hell and heaven, and this is somehow a test. This is wrong. Wrong!
“Prepare for a crash landing,” the pilot shouts over his shoulder at us.
Apollo looks out the window at the water below and then back at me. I don’t see fear. I see acceptance.
“Fuck,” I say, scanning the area for land that doesn’t exist. The helicopter is going to crash on water. It’s going to hit and sink and we’re going to fucking die.
Apollo reaches out and takes my hand. He gives a knowing nod and squeezes. “See you on the other side, brother.”
My body shakes as the memory of the helicopter crash starts coming back to me. My father bends down, his face close enough that I clearly see his eyes. “Ares died, but you survived. There’s a reason, son. Ares is no longer with us, but you are.”
I don’t know if it’s the ringing in my ears or the pounding of my heart. But his words aren’t making sense. Did he just say Ares is dead?
I’m here.
Or at least I think I’m here.
I’m not dead.
I wiggle my toes, and I inhale deeply just to prove to myself that I am indeed laying in this hospital bed.
“Both Ares and the pilot didn’t make it. The rescuers pulled both of their bodies from the wreckage shortly after your rescue. You somehow got free and floated long enough for help to arrive,” my father continues.
“I don’t understand,” I begin.
Daphne takes my hand again. “You have some minor injuries. Some cuts and bruises. You do have a head wound, and you’ve been unconscious for a few days. The doctors were hopeful you’d wake up, but they said confusion and memory loss could be a side effect. So, it’s okay to feel this way.”
Confused? Memory loss? This has nothing to do with my head injury. My fucking father is telling me I’m dead when I’m alive. They’re telling me my brother is dead but—