Hi everyone! Welcome to Tuesday Tales!
This were with Apollo in the next Gods of DC book. The word prompt this week is “stuck”.
**Warning - There are adult situations and adult language.**
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The bar was dead quiet for what should have been a loud, crazy night. Deirdre tossed back her tumbler of whiskey. With a huff she glanced down to the floor and scraped off a lump of mud that was stuck on her boot with the toe of the other one she wore.
She had half expected to find Apollo and Khalil sitting on their usual stools, flirting up a storm like the first couple times that she watched them. She was transfixed by the way they stared at each other. The caresses came next. That sent her heart fluttering. She was stunned when Apollo kissed her first and then Khalil. Both were a heady high she had never experienced in the hundreds of years she had been alive.
Yet, she didn’t recall them ever looking at her like they did at each other. Maybe she was a challenge they wanted to add to their budding relationship. She had no idea.
She just knew that her heart was invested in this scheme if she wanted it to be or not. It was time to find her fellas and come to the bottom of all the chaos going on in her black soul. She knew where Apollo lived in this mortal world. She’d start there. The quicker she could find a way to cut them loose, the faster she could go back to the way life was before them.
She lacked the ambition to dig out her wallet from her back pocket to pay the barkeep. When his back was turned, she laid her hand on the top of the bar. Lifting it, a pile of bills, which included a generous tip, appeared. She called out “goodnight” then got off the stool to head to the door.
She didn’t bother to walk to the beach house. If Apollo could pop in and out of places, so could she. She twisted the doorknob expecting to have to produce even a little more magic. The battle she was part of earlier that day and the continent hopping that happened afterward was leaving her drained.
The door creaked open for her without her influence. She nudged it further open, finding a discarded shirt in the foyer. It was a tell-tale sign that someone was home. The sounds coming from the upstairs bedroom area confirmed it for her. Like a siren song, it led her up the stairs and down the hall to the open door.