Page 21 of Midnight Pleasure

They stared at each other, tension thick in the air. Brently seemed to search Ares's eyes for doubt, but Ares didn't flinch. He had decided.

At last, Brently sighed, almost regretful. "Well, then. We'll see how long that conviction lasts. Me and the boys have bets."

Ares didn't answer. There was nothing left to say. He rose, the choice settling on him like a mantle. But it wasn't heavy. It was freeing.

Brently watched him, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "You know, I'm rooting for you, Ares. You and Apollo. But then again, I do enjoy a good tragedy."

Overlooking that he was still in yesterday's rumpled clothes, he strode to the door. He didn't belong there, in this suite, in that world. He belonged to Foggy Basin, with Apollo.

Brently's voice stopped him as he reached the door. "Ares," he called light, almost teasing. "Just remember," Bentley's voice stopped him as he reached the door, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Don't lose your way."

Chapter 10: The Turning Point

Three Months Later

He winced as he collected his belongings from the grimy counter in the small, suffocating room of the city jail. The sharp ache in his ribs nagged constantly at his memory of the beatings Brently’s goons had visited upon him. To break him without leaving too many visible marks, but he hadn’t given them the satisfaction. But now, as he slipped his watch onto his wrist, the dull pain flared with every movement, he could not help but feel the weight of every day he had spent in this hellhole.

The sunlight hit hard as he stepped outside, forcing his eyes to squint against its blinding brightness. He had spent most of his time locked away in solitary. A punishment delivered for the supposed safety from other prisoners. But the well-paid guards of Brently had found him there, too, their fists and boots carrying out his unspoken orders. He had chosen to stay quiet, enduring the attack, and this experience should have changed him, but it didn’t.

Apollo strolled onto the badly cracked pavement, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty parking lot. The sound of Rafael’s official truck grew louder as it slowly approached, its tires rolling steadily on the pavement. It was a given that Rafael would be present. He had hoped that he could simply board the bus without running into Rafael beforehand and be on his way back home to Ares.

He had spent what seemed like an eternity in solitary; the hours dragging on painfully as his mind wandered. While reflecting on the past, Apollo finally connected the dots and reconstructed the timeline of Rafael’s affair—a truth that Apollo had suspected but never solidified. And that was stomach-churningly offending for him to think about. After all, Rafael’s cruelty had left him desperate for escape, like a drowning man gasping for air, desperately clawing at the fragments of his shattered identity.

A cop truck rolled to a stop beside him, and Rafael leaned out the window, his voice gentle. But with that edge of command, Apollo had once found impossible to turn down.

“Get in the vehicle, Apollo. Stubborn pride has never really been your thing.”

He came to a full stop, his gaze locking onto Rafael with a ferocity that spoke of storms barely held at bay. He let the silence hang in the air, thick with tension, before uttering.

“Fuck you,” Apollo spat out, his voice rough and cold, trying to cut through the space between them. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t react. He just stared, his expression unreadable, letting the weight of his presence press down on Rafael like a boulder.

“Was any of it real, Rafael?” Apollo pressed out. “Or was I just another one of your toys?”

Rafael lifted his eyes upward to the sky, with an expression signifying impatience and exasperation. “Being needy has never suited you. Stop acting like some kind of entitled brat,” he added, his voice sharp. “You knew who I was from the start, anyway I gave you everything you wanted.”

As Apollo held onto the edge of the truck door, his knuckles grew white from the pressure. “Yeah, you did, Rafael.” Like sharp fragments of glass, bitter resentment seeped into every word as it left his lips.

The smooth façade split a little as Rafael’s jaw flexed. Apollo recognized the shift in emotions—he had pushed Rafael too far. But instead of an outburst, Rafael kept his voice calm and collected, even as the tension between them hung thick.

“Get in the vehicle, Apollo,” he ordered, his voice a low, menacing growl. “Don’t make me hogtie your ass and have you ride like that for two hours back to Foggy Basin. I’ll do it,too.”

Sitting in the confines of the vehicle, the metal frame seemed to vibrate under the weight of his pent-up frustration. The force with which he had slammed the door echoed his internal turmoil, shaking the entire vehicle in its wake.

“Put your seat belt on,” he ordered, as Rafael brushed into him, dismissing the space Apollo held firm, with an unsettling touch that lingered just a beat too long. He leaned in closer, his hot breath suffocating Apollo’s senses, his words bristling with aggressive innuendo, feeding Apollo’s growing discomfort. “Go on,” Rafael hummed, his voice thick with contempt. “Ask me about Brently. You know you want to.”

He forcefully ripped the seatbelt out of Rafael’s hand. “You and Brently deserve each other. I frankly don’t give a fuck.”

“You give a fuck, and you better behave. I can put you right back in and you won’t get to see your pretty man for another six months,” he countered, his voice filled with a pensive sigh, his gaze dropping to Apollo’s lips, as he went on, “Says the man who’s always had that taste for danger and my particular brand of discipline. It’s why you fell for me in the first place, you remember? I told you who I was back then. You are the one who changed. I never lied to you.” Rafael leaned back in his seat and started the engine.

Apollo locked eyes on Rafael and spoke calmly but decisively. “I have changed, Rafael. Because, you see, I finally understood that what I need, what I deserve, is a relationship based on honesty, not manipulation. I couldn’t take it anymore—the games, the lies. True inner strength belongs to the one who can keep everything transparent and out in the open.”

For a split second, Rafael’s sneer wavered before he leaned forward again, as if he could still bridge the gulf of years between them, reaching out intimately. He oozed condescension.

“You always were one for fairy tales, Apollo. But let’s be real—people like us, we don’t do ‘honest.’ We do power, control. That’s how the world works.”

“Maybe that’s how you work, Rafael. But I’m not you. Not anymore. I’ve chosen a different way—one where I don’t have to look over my shoulder, waiting for the next knife in my back. One where loyalty and affection matter. One where love is its own reward. I won’t play your game anymore.”

His smile stretched taut, but Apollo could see the cracks forming, the light that peeled its way through the façade around Rafael. He’d been subtle in his expression of a man used to getting feared, if not anywhere else, then certainly here, with him.

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