The Hostage Bargain

The Hostage Bargain by Annika Martin Page A

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Authors: Annika Martin
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seemed.
    These guys didn’t add up. Thor a doctor. What was Odin? Zeus?
    There was some gutter dog in Zeus, that’s for sure. I didn’t know if I’d ever get over the feeling of his gun at my forehead. Or the way he stalked that guy, then delivered that weirdly vicious kick. I would’ve just as easily killed you. I would’ve done it in a heartbeat—don’t you ever doubt it.
    I’d heard the darkness in Zeus’s words. But not necessarily the truth. Or was I fooling myself?
    Zeus was a force, like a storm: frightening and magnificent to behold, with a charged power churning inside. Maybe I should’ve been angry at him for being all, would’ve just as easily killed you , but you don’t get mad at a storm for blowing things over.
    Or ripping up flowers.
    I asked about the room service waiter and the man in the workout room. What if they recognized me and put them together with the bank job?
    The guys thought that was funny. “These operatives don’t give a fuck about any bank. It’s under their radar. Banks are not their concern.”
    “Then what is their concern?” I asked. “Who are they? Why are they after you?”
    Zeus said, “One more question like that and you’re on the side of the road, deal or no deal.”
    “We actually have two deals now, I believe,” I said.
    “Two?”
    “That’s right,” I said. Zeus was none too pleased to hear about the price I’d demanded for my messenger services. But the exchanges really did help put me on a peer level with the god pack, as least in a limited way.
    At around two in the morning, we crashed in a roadside motel in Missouri, just outside Kansas City. Thor and I bunked in one room and Odin and Zeus in another, and sex was definitely not in the air—we were all dead on our feet. Thor didn’t even wash up. He just collapsed on our king-sized bed. I brushed my teeth using my finger and Thor’s toothpaste, and then I, too, collapsed, stretched out next to Thor under the cool, clean sheets.
    I woke up in the early hours with Thor snuggled up to me, whispering something. Was he trying to wake me up?
    “Thor?”
    Thor whispered some more, a stream of nonsense. A bad dream, I realized. I couldn’t make out most of the words. I got a lot of no’s and don’ts , and out-of-context phrases like don’t leave Venus . His sleeping face was a mask of pain.
    Don’t leave Venus ? Was he having a bad dream about interplanetary travel? Dreaming of a movie?
    “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re okay.”
    He squirmed and turned onto his back. I waited, but he said no more.
    For all the guns and domination and violence, I had the sense, watching Thor sleep, that he had a little Peter Pan in him. All three of them did, really. They were running, these guys, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d been abandoned, too. Lost, bereft.
    More. A hole was in them—that was my sense.
    My badass Peter Pans .
    I touched Thor’s hair. I liked the notion that maybe I’d calmed him in his nightmare. Like I’d helped.
    These guys scared me a little, but they also galvanized me.
    Here I was in a shitty motel with a headache and no toothbrush, lying next to a doctor turned bank robber who was also a sex maniac who carried a gun, and a fugitive on some scary wanted list. And I was feeling slightly sore from fucking him and another guy, emotionally exhausted from almost being killed. And I was opting to stay. It seemed like something only a twisted person would do, but there it was. I wanted to stay.
    I felt like I was home. Like I could finally breathe.
    My mind floated back to my sisters. Would they have slept? I'd brought up the topic of contacting them on the road last night.
    Later, Zeus had said.
    Thor flopped back over onto this other side, but I still couldn’t sleep. I wandered into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My hair—now there was something to freak out about. I looked like an insane, redheaded Dutch boy. Maybe I was turning sociopathic.
    Some time

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