Filthy Gods_American Gods Read online

  The golden boy.

  It cemented it in my bones that I would never allow myself to lose against him. That I would be better than that golden boy of Yale. Other students had laughed, some had even confronted me about it and Nathaniel hadn’t even realized what he had done. He was simply careless and oblivious to others.

  He would always be superior. He was like a deity, destroying things for fun, without thinking of the consequences of anyone else around him.

  “I don’t recall,” he said, shaking his head lightly.

  I shook my head. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

  I went to turn, but he jumped from the bed, uncharacteristically rushed.

  “Now c’mon. That was what? Three years ago?”

  I glared back at him. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. It happened.”

  “Juliette,” he called, but I kept walking.

  “I need to get back before someone notices I’m not in my room,” I said and tried to shut the door, but he caught it.

  “Juliette,” he said, softer than before.

  I glanced back at him, hidden in the shadows of the willow trees, as they danced across his handsome features.

  “Goodnight, Nathaniel.” I turned on my heel and he didn’t follow.

  It had been two days. I hadn’t gone back to the cottage and every time I saw Nathaniel at the club, I looked the other way. I knew he watched me and I felt him wanting to approach me, but I never gave him the chance.

  I could hear the laughter and the chatter of a party happening outside around the pool as I lay on my bed. Everyone else had gone out or was working at the party tonight. I had the night off. Sitting alone, reading over my study notes for the upcoming year, my chest felt hollow.

  I didn’t like the feeling, but I was too stubborn or had too much pride to leave my room. I was sure he would be at the party tonight, or he would be out with his friends.

  A knock at my door didn’t startle me. It was most likely Mandy asking if I had any makeup she could borrow.

  “Come in,” I deadpanned.

  The door opened and when all I heard was silence, I raised my eyes from my sheets of paper to see Nathaniel.

  I straightened my back and then pulled the sweater over my chest. I was only wearing a t-shirt, braless, and pajama shorts as I figured I’d only see Mandy and the girls around. My hair was piled unattractively on top of my head and I had no makeup on.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He moved forward, glancing at the small room I stayed in. A double bed and a dresser were the only things in the room besides my suitcase.

  “I thought I’d see you at the party,” he said, his eyes returning to me. “When you weren’t there, I thought it was safe to check here.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “That’s risky, Nathaniel.”

  He smirked. “I calculated the risks.”

  I frowned at him, but he sat down, making the bed seem much smaller.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, looking down at me.

  “Yes, I have,” I admitted, clenching my hands in my lap.

  He cleared his throat. “Whatever I did in the past, I apologize.”

  I bowed my head, emotions surging through me too fast. I had never expected him to apologize.

  “I wanted to treat you as an equal,” he said, softly and my heart seized. “I knew you would despise me if I went gentle on you. I didn’t want to pretend you were a weak opponent. But perhaps, I got carried away.”

  My throat felt tight and hot and for once, I couldn’t talk back to him. He was right. I would have despised him even more if he had treated me like a damsel.

  “You rejected me,” he said, breaking the tense silence.

  My head snapped up. “What?”

  “I asked you on a date and you flat out rejected me,” he said.

  I shook my head, confused.

  “It was our first day. We were being toured around and you kept asking a thousand questions,” he said, his eyes flashing back and forth as if he was reliving the moment. “I asked you on a date and you scoffed at me and walked away.”

  I blanched, gripping my throat. “I thought you were making fun of me!”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “I was quite serious.”

  Dread washed over me as I watched him stare at his leather loafers, his hands between his spread legs.

  “Shouldn’t you be with your friends?” I asked, staring at him from underneath my lashes as I fidgeted with the sheets.

  His gaze swept over me. “No.”

  “I’m not in the mood for sex,” I said quickly and regretted it.

  He laughed. “I wasn’t looking for sex.”

  Slowly, he leaned forward and I was too scared to move. His lips brushed across mine and I gave in. He kissed me, gently, taking his time and soon we laid back on the bed.

  I fell asleep in a god’s arms.

  Another few weeks passed and the east coast was full-fledged in a summer heat wave. Most guests spent their days on the sandy beach or safely hidden under beach umbrellas.

  As I fanned a fresh clean bed sheet with Mandy on the other side, she grinned at me.

  “You’re coming with us tonight,” she said, tucking the sheet under the mattress.

  I rolled my eyes. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “Duh. It’s Fourth of July tonight. Local house party. Not too far from here. We could walk through along the beach.” When I didn’t respond to her and bent over, tucking my side of the sheet in, she groaned. “Oh c’mon. We all have tonight off. It’s the one night we can actually leave this place and enjoy ourselves. We need a break!”

  I shot her a look. “And they’d let us in?”

  Danielle fluffed a pillow beside me and nodded eagerly. “I heard the guy throws a party every weekend when he’s here.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and stood up, hands on my hips. “Fine. One night.”

  Mandy shook her hips, dancing. “Yes!”

  Nathaniel had been away for the last week back in Boston where his father stayed. A strange emptiness had expanded in my chest each day and I tried to ignore it, but it kept building.

  I shook off the thought.

  As the night approached, Danielle, Mandy, and I all got ready together. It was refreshing to wear something that wasn’t our work clothes. I slipped on a black dress with the skirt a delicate fabric; the same one Nathaniel had said had been too flimsy and grinned at that memory.

  “Ready?” Mandy asked. She went for a more casual, ripped jeans and t-shirt combo with Danielle dressed in a hot pink dress.

  The three of us ventured onto the dark beach. They had drunk a few glasses of vodka-cranberry while getting ready, but I hadn’t touched any. I didn’t like the feeling alcohol gave me; out of control, loopy, disoriented. I liked being in control; I liked being able to focus.

  “So you go to Yale?” Danielle asked, wrapping an arm around mine, letting out a squeal when her foot slipped in the sand.

  I nodded.

  “Do you get to see the American Gods a lot?” She giggled at her own words, resting her head against my shoulder.

  “Sometimes.” I had a lot of classes with James and Nathaniel and one with Gabe. Arsen and I barely crossed paths and I was happy about that.

  Even still, I saw the four boys throughout campus. They were treated like celebrities as girls gawked at them when they were nearby.

  Even the staff feared them. They wielded too much power for three boys so young. I always viewed Nathaniel as the one keeping the balance, keeping them calm before a storm broke out.

  When a professor failed James on the basis of him coming to class intoxicated, the teacher was suspiciously removed from the staff the next day.

  I pulled my sweater tighter to my chest to keep warm.

  A house brightened the darkened coast and music and laughter echoed out onto the rolling waves.

  The closer we got to the grey house, the more I realize
d just how chaotic the party was. People stood outside on the beach and veranda, drinks in hand. People standing or perched on the roof, jumping into a large in-ground pool of white marble below. In the middle of the beach, a circle of people had formed, from which loud cheers could be heard.

  My chest squeezed when I realized the circle of people was a full-blown fight.

  I saw glimpses of fists being thrown, a hectic rush, and the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

  I gripped my necklace.

  “Who’s fighting?” Mandy asked someone as we stood outside of the circle, trying to glimpse who was within.

  “Rhodes and Dawson,” someone replied in the darkness.

  My stomach dropped. James Rhodes was here and that most likely meant Gabe and Arsen were, too.

  Mandy took my hand and shoved through the crowd until we were in the first row. There was blood splattered onto the white sand.

  James was shirtless, his jeans low on his hips, as he lifted his fists. With a cut bottom lip and blood in his golden hair, he looked like the god of war.

  The two opponents circled each other, like lions waiting to pounce, and in a surprisingly swift movement, James lunged, his fist colliding with Dawson’s cheek and he went down hard.

  Cheers erupted and someone bumped into my back, propelling me forward. I caught myself on Mandy, sending an annoyed look behind me. The guy staring back at me looked like an absolute mess, sweaty and his clothes in disarray. His eyes seemed unable to focus properly, looking all around him frantically. Sure enough, there was what suspiciously looked like white powder around his nostrils. Shaking my head, I turned back around, focusing on the fight once more.

  James staggered, wiping his bleeding bottom lip and downed the bottle of Jack Daniels someone was handing him from the sidelines. Once more, he threw the empty bottle on the sand nonchalantly, wiping his grinning mouth off with the back of his hand. His body was covered in sand and blood and sweat. James was no pretender, his reputation, his allure and bad habits fit him to perfection. He embodied all of it proudly as if raising hell was second-nature to him.

  “Fuck yes!” James shouted to the sky and gestured to someone from the sidelines to join him in the circle.

  Another opponent, another fight, another night of destruction.

  “Let’s go inside,” Danielle hollered to Mandy and I. We elbowed our way through the crowd and made it up the elegant staircase. When we walked inside, a couch was flipped over and broken glass was scattered across the classic hardwood floor.

  Mandy and Danielle were already looking for drinks as I scanned the crowd for familiar faces. I wandered farther inside, glancing into another living room. Inside was Gabe Easton and Arsen Vasiliev, along with other guys I didn’t recognize from school. I relaxed. No one would recognize me or discover I wasn’t the girl who spent her summers in the south of France. A few of them, however, I recognized from the country club.

  They were sitting in leather chairs, features drawn. Some were casually holding joints between their fingers, speaking in low voices to each other. Gabe was the only one not smoking. He was sitting back in his chair, relaxed as he examined carefully each man as they spoke to him. Arsen sat in a chair opposite to Gabe’s, a cigar tucked between his long, tattooed fingers, head bowed as if deep in thought.

  It was when one of the men stood that I caught a glimpse of Nathaniel standing near the fireplace, an elbow resting on the mantel.

  But he wasn’t alone.

  That same girl, that Wasp stood close to him, their eyes locked, a full-blown smile on her face as she stared up at him like he had put the stars in the sky just for her.

  My chest grew too tight too fast and air caught in the lump expanding in my throat.

  I watched as the rich girl—a girl he had grown up destined to be with—stroked her manicured fingers along his bulging bicep.

  I hoped he would do something—step back, but he continued to stare down at her, sipping from a short crystal glass of whiskey.

  She laughed bluntly at something he muttered to her and I hated her even more because it was a gorgeous chuckle. She looked half in love with him and I was sure I looked the same way at him even when I fought against it.

  He wasn’t supposed to be returning until Monday, but here he was. Two days early. And he hadn’t said anything to me.

  I couldn’t help the stab of pain in my chest. Was he avoiding me? Would he have told me he arrived back on Monday and not mention he was here for two days before that?

  I cringed. We weren’t serious. This—Nathaniel and I fooling around—was just the two of us getting rid of this need and sexual energy between us.

  Nothing more.

  Part of me wanted to go to him then and kiss him so everyone knew he was mine. Wanted to be able to be with him in a public place. Not behind doors. But if I did, Mandy and anyone else who knew us, would know something was going on.

  I was the maid; he was the owner’s son.

  I was a poor girl; he was a god.

  He wasn’t mine. He would never be only mine.

  Nathaniel’s head lifted, glancing sideways and I stepped back, wanting to leave, wanting to vanish and return back to the country club and forget everything about him, but it was too late. His eyes caught mine a second later and his jaw clenched, his entire body straightening as he turned toward me.

  I spun, only to run into another body.

  “Whoa!” Hands gripped my hips and I looked up to see a man smiling down at me. Platinum blond hair cut short and a dimple on one side of his mouth. “Well, hello gorgeous.”

  The shock faded and I flattened my expression, trying to back away and move past him. But he sidestepped me, blocking my path.

  “What? Not gonna say hi back?” He bent his head, trying to catch my gaze. “Name’s Thatcher Adams. You may have heard of me.”

  What a self-centered jerk.

  I had heard of him, and it was nothing glorious. I didn’t want to spend another second with him. He went to Yale and was definitely part of the same secret gentlemen’s club as Nathaniel. He was a linebacker on Yale’s football team. He spent more time on the field than in a library or a classroom.

  “I have,” I bit out and I elbowed his stomach.

  He groaned, releasing me, but quickly grabbed my elbow. “What the fuck?”

  “Let go of her, Thatcher,” I heard Nathaniel say behind me. His voice so cool and composed. A voice that calmed the storm inside of me. “You’re drunk.”

  I glanced back to see Nathaniel standing in the middle of the room, his gaze fixated on Thatcher.

  “Just having fun, aren’t we babe?” Thatcher laughed into my ear.

  Nathaniel stepped forward, anger starting to crack through his composure but Gabe stood up.

  “Let her go, Adams,” Gabe said, his voice was as sharp as a knife. Everyone was watching now. As if a king had spoken. “You know the code. You don’t want to go against it.”

  The code? I wanted to ask but stopped myself. Their boy club had a code?

  Thatcher’s fingers bit into my elbow and I couldn’t help the slight whimper that escaped me. At that, Nathaniel’s eyes lowered and I swear they looked like he was trying to burn Thatcher’s skin off the hand gripping my arm. “Here to save another soul, Gabe?” Thatcher laughed darkly, too drunk to filter himself. “Trying to make up for killing Alexander all those years ago? Come on now, man, we all know you guys let him drown, no point in trying to prove yourself such a saint now.”

  I watched Gabe’s features darken, his large hands became powerful fists of rage. The tension grew almost suffocating in the room at that and I held my breath. Arsen rose from his chair and stood behind Gabe, and if Thatcher weren’t holding me so tightly, I would’ve cowered away from his glaring eyes. He looked like murder sounded far too appealing in that moment and the terrifying thing was—I wasn’t too sure it was only an impression.

  Somehow, I could feel their anger, their wrath, like it had its own entity.

&nb
sp; This, what Thatcher had said, had been a very, very bad thing to say.

  You did not mention the Archibald controversy in the presence of the American Gods. Ever.

  “Be very careful who the fuck you talk to like that, Thatcher,” Nathaniel said, deadly calm, hands stuffed into his pockets as he leisurely walked forward, getting closer and closer. I was in awe of his calmness, at how composed he could be. He smiled smugly at Thatcher, but his eyes were dark and hard. “I’ll repeat it one last time for your sake; let her fucking go.” He spoke slowly and firmly.

  On an annoyed sigh, Thatcher shoved me to the side with more force than necessary and I slammed into the wall, bracing myself.

  And then he threw his fist, striking Nathaniel across the cheek—he staggered back but kept his ground.

  I held my head high, gawking as Nathaniel stayed still, his head twisted away. Thatcher’s nostrils flared.

  Even though the music still blared around us, it was dead silent.

  Nathaniel’s jaw flexed as he wiped off blood from his cut cheek with the back of his hand. He stared at it for a beat, then laughed deeply, but the sound held no joy. It was the kind of laugh that promised retaliation.

  Gabe’s body was shaking with barely restrained rage. “You fucking—”