Chapter 8

Percy was still upset – about the bus, about that one old lady and her death scissors, and then about whatever happened before all of that.

Helena wanted to ask why, demand to know what it was that managed to mess with her sister so much that she'd come to hate Helena over night. As cowardly as it was, she instead opted to fiddle with her seat-belt – not enjoying their stilted silence, but not brave enough to test the waters either. However, as the two of them got closer to their apartment, it turned out that Helena didn't have to do anything of sort.

"Why'd you do it?" Percy asked, quiet, not wanting to bring the taxi driver's attention on them more than she had to. Helena glanced over, fingers clenching over the stained polyester – the sort of material she didn't allow to touch her neck, safety laws be damned. She instead kept it tucked under her armpit, her fingers dipped into the cord to keep it from digging into her abdomen.

"Do what?" Helena paused. Oh, right – Percy was probably freaked out about Helena nearly getting hit by a car, after having walked herself right out onto the highway like it was just another Tuesday. "I don't think she liked me very much," Helena said, repeating her statement from hours prior.

"I don't think so either," Percy agreed, but then softly added, "but, that's not what I was talking about." Helena tilted her head, then glanced out the window. Percy was being strange, and her statement addled her. An understanding suddenly subtly dawned out from the back of her head.

"Oh. That." Helena mumbled, unable to meet her sister's curious gaze. She didn't think Percy was genuinely angry anymore, as much as she was simply conflicted. Helena thought back to last night; to when she had her hands pressed tightly together and her heart wide open for the only other person in the world she'd let see it.

A strange thing to feel for someone she'd never truly met; that didn't mean Helena didn't love her mother with her entire heart and then some, but there was something safe in the divine; knowing that her father had seen the worst in people, but the best as well, had played the role of the monster more times that he could probably count; despite his own limitless lifespan. She'd never prayed to him until that night. Helena wasn't sure when she'd do so again, but the feelings whirling inside of her; so sharp that she felt as if their cruel talons were ripping her soul to shreds.

To put such an emotional burden on her mother, to put the pressure her mother might face for loving and accepting her as she is – all of her faults included, well, that was a risk Helena wasn't going to take. Sally Jackson's love was something Helena wasn't going to lose, not if she could help it. With Poseidon, that fear did not come. There was no pain nor fear in disappointing a man that was hardly there in the first place, who'd seen and done terrible things, who'd still love his brothers enough to fight with them in the war to come. No, she did not fear losing his favor at all.

"…I didn't realize you'd heard that." Helena answered honestly, half-tempted to slam her head into the car door. She'd underestimated her sister; who had been proving time and time again that she far from stupid.

Percy scoffed. "You're not as quiet as you think you are."

"Well," Helena bit out. "If that's the case, there's no point in explaining it then."

"Of course, you're going to be like that." Percy huffed. She crossed her legs, her hands clenching into fists as her side. Helena could feel the anger coming off of her in waves. If she hadn't been pissed before, then she certainly was now.

"I don't understand why you're so worked up about it – we came to an agreement. Wait until we got to Montauk, then we'd talk about it."

"That's not what I'm pissed about," Percy retorted. "I'm pissed because you've had a way to contact Dad for who knows how long and you didn't do it until the weather got bad? Like, you've got to be fucking kidding me. There were nights are mom starved in order to feed us – and this entire time, we could have just-" Percy clasped her hands together, gesturing up in the direction of the sky. "You don't understand why I'm upset – God, be fucking for real."

"It's not that simple," Helena said, but as she said it, she couldn't help but reflect back on their times of struggle, which were often. It could have been, she thought, it could have been that simple. She'd never done it because sticking to the story – as vague as it was to her – seemed like a good idea at the time.

Their taxi driver gave out a hearty laugh. "You kids related to the mafia, or something?" He chortled, not understanding that Helena wished it were as simple as the mafia; life would have been far easier that way – the only monsters being human ones.

"Care to find out?" Percy snapped back. Helena watched as the amusement drained from his eyes; it was replaced with twinges of nervousness, fear. Their driver quickly realized that the two of them were young girls – only one of them being a teenager – and that it was embarrassing on his part to be any measure of scared.

The driver braked, stopping the car. "Get out."

Percy and Helena side-eyed each other, but the driver didn't have to ask them twice. The less money the two of them spent, the better. Percy grabbed their bag, pulling herself out of the car. She slammed the door shut for good measure. Helena refrained from doing the same, preferring not to irritate the man more than necessary. Their driver drove off in a rage.

"What a pussy! He couldn't deal with us for another two blocks?" Percy remarked, snorting. She kicked at bent up soda can, then kicked it again, and again, then decided to pick it up using the edge of her foot. Percy hoisted up her leg – and sent the car flying into the air. When it fell back down, she caught in her hands and promptly threw it in one of the garbage cans.

Helena sighed. "And to think, we could've saved that conversation for Montauk. But, if it were really that easy, Percy, don't you think Mom would have asked him for help? If she could have? Don't blame this whole thing on me, okay?"

As if contemplating, her older sister became quiet – morose, even. "When did you find out? What even is he? Who is he? I mean…" Percy took a quick look around. "Dude, are we related to Jesus? Can we walk on water, turn it into wine?" She whispered, dead-serious.

"Last year." Lie, but that was when Helena stumbled upon their mother's diaries. "I haven't known that long." Another lie. She'd known this one particular secret for their entire life. "Either way, I'm not telling you the rest. That's up to Mom – and you can't tell her I snooped."

"And why not?" Percy snapped back – the two of them had started making their to the apartment on foot.

"Because, one, that goes against the sisterly-code, and for two – she'd probably feel obligated throw it away or something. However you feel about him, Perce, Mom loved him. Like, really loved him." She informed. "Our mom hasn't had the best life, but when she met him, it was like nothing else seemed to matter; that nothing bad could happen to her. Aside from us, she views him as the best thing to have happened to her." Helena adorned a bittersweet smile. "What she wrote – it was personal, private, and…really detailed. A part of me feels bad for reading it in the first place!"

Percy slowed down. "I don't hate him." She admitted. "I mean, not right at this moment. Next week, probably, but…he got the bad weather to fuck off for a few days so we could spend time with Mom at Montauk. Honestly, it doesn't make up for the thirteen years of neglect, but for a few days I'm willing to overlook it."

"Truce?" Helena offered, holding out her pinky.

Helena smiled at the feeling of a second pinky finger wrapping tightly around her own. "Truce," Percy agreed. "But! You owe me – and, no more secrets between the two of us. Not like this one." She paused for a moment, then added. "Also, let's maybe not tell mom about what happened with those old ladies. If she reacts anything like Grover, I'm going to lose my mind."

"Speaking of losing minds, I wonder how Grover's doing?" Helena questioned.

Percy winced, then adjusted the strap of their duffle bag. "I'm an awful friend," she admitted. "He would never have done that to me…but, at the same time, I'm over the whole 'almost dying' thing. Plus, him being the one to have to protect me? It's been just you and me for our entire lives, Nelly, and we've managed to come out just fine. Which, by the way, none of this weird stuff happened until Grover and Brunner came to Yancy. For all we know, this is all of their faults!"

"I wouldn't go that far, Perce, it was bound to happen sooner or later." Helena shrugged. She was beginning to become a bit paranoid with talking about this sort of stuff out loud. The streets were not as filled as they could be, but there were still a variety of people walking around – some of whom might not even be people. "I think maybe we should save the rest of this conversation."

"Why? We won't exactly be able to talk about in front of mom."

Helena was beginning to get that weird tingling sensation in the back of her neck; as if there was something crawling beneath her skin. "Because," she said. "It's not safe. The fact you know what you know is not safe."

"But, how?" Percy gestured around them. "Nobody's listening to us. We're just kids. Anything we have to say has absolutely zero impact on their day. And even if other people were paying attention, we'd sound like nothing but a couple of loons."

"That's not the part I'm worried about." Helena bit out, her voice strained. She kept eyeing the people around them. "How far is the apartment? It can't be that much farther, can it? Feels like we've been walking for ages."

"Um, Nelly, the last thing we want to do is rush home. I don't know if you remember this or not, but Gabe doesn't work, as in, he's home, there, right now. The moment either one of us walks through that door, he's going to expect us to play maid for him. And I'm telling you right now – not happening."

"I don't feel well." Helena insisted. "I'd feel better if we were there and not out here. Don't you feel it? Like something bad's about to happen?" Helena watched a wave of emotions pour across her sister's face; in that moment, Percy became as paranoid as Helena, looking over her shoulder, seeking something that wasn't there.

Helena began to fear that perhaps the two of them had come across the fates for a reason; she thought of the scissors, opening, pressing themselves against the thread of someone's fate, their life, and as the sound of the snip echoed in her brain – all she could do was hope to the Gods that it was not her own.

The two girls made it to the outside of their apartment building; the place was small, cramped, and not at all meant for a family of four. But, it was better than the other apartment they lived in back when Gabe and Sally had first married. She and Percy ended up having to share a closet space for few years – and no, not as a space for their clothes. It was, by all accounts, their bedroom up until their mother got a promotion at the candy store she worked at.

Helena ran up the stairs, following up after Percy, who wiggled the doorknob. It was unlocked, not that either of them were surprised. The older girl opened up the door with a scowl, grimacing at the amount of smoke that seemed to escape the house. The television was blaring, and the laughter of the grown men gathered around their dining room table was enough to make the both of them sick.

There was never a man more aptly named than Gabe Ugliano: he was a heavy-set man, who'd only gained more in the recent years, and had about three hairs at the top of his head that he kept combed over in a style he thought made him look handsome. A cigar hung from his mouth; an ashtray was placed in the center of the table, not that it meant much, considering it was must have overflown hours ago. The floor of their home was scummy, coated in long-dried dubious substances that left her feet feeling contaminated, despite the barrier that were her shoes.

"Oh, you're both home." He said dismissively, mouth wrapping around the cigar, muffling him. Gabe didn't bother looking up, focused intently on his hand of cards. There were three of his buddies gathered around him; one of them being their land-lord who clearly gave no shits about the state of the apartment.

"Where's my mom?" Percy asked – more like, demanded to know. Helena figured she was hoping their mom might have come home earlier, since it was the day the two of them arrived back home from school. Both of them were more than eager to get out of this place and back to their cabin in Montauk; that was home to them, not the dump they were forced to live in.

Gabe retorted. "Where's my cash?"

His buddies laughed, treating Gabe as if he were some sort of comedic genius. Percy shrugged their bag off of her shoulders and slung it over to Helena; a silent command for Helena to go find a place to stash it until the two of them could convince their mother to book it to Montauk – preferably, the moment she got home.

"Lena, be a sweetheart and cook something up for us, eh? Your Ma ain't gonna be home for hours – and your sister can't cook for shit. My buddies and I are starvin' here." Helena winced, not having made it far.

Percy was not the same girl when it came to Gabe. She became cold, openly hostile, and preferred to take bites out of him as if she were a blood-driven shark. "Four grown men and can't even cook for yourselves."

Helena winced, opting to walk as fast as she could towards their shared room: it was a step up from closet, but still small. In the corner of the room was their bunk-bed, then their floor which was consisted of about three steps towards and away from the door; their room couldn't even fit a desk. The two girls were lucky to even have a closet.

She pulled their uniforms out, folding them and putting them inside the dresser. Helena doubted either of them would be having to worry about Yancy Academy in the future. She pouted, having found the uniforms to be quite cute. As their replacement, she took a few more of their normal clothes and stuffed them down inside. It was then Helena dropped down onto her knees; she shimmied across the ground, pushing her arm through the slight gap between the dresser and the floor. Twisting her arm until it ached, her fingers curled upwards, grabbing out from underneath a small, metal tin.

She quickly plopped the top off, sighing in relief at what she found; the stash of cash she and Percy had managed to save up for the past two years. See, while their mother was away for most of the day – it was either stay home, get yelled at by Gabe, or, go out on the streets and do what he'd taught them years ago.

As of last year, Percy decided she was old enough to upgrade from swindling tourists to instead doing chores for old people in exchange for a few bucks. Gabe got what he thought was the full amount, but was really only just over half. Percy was smart, knowing that Gabe would catch on if she didn't give him a certain amount.

"-don't you dare talk to me that way; that smart mouth might fly with Sally but it ain't gonna fly with me. You understand? Huh? Do you?" Helena froze, hearing the sound of Gabe's voice boom throughout the apartment – it was followed by the sound of a slap. She shut the tin, throwing it into the duffle, before leaving the room in a hurry.

His buddies were staring at the scene in interest; one of them, Frank, plastered a fake look of concern, as if he'd disagreed with Gabe's actions. The sight of it made Helena's stomach lurch with disgust. Percy was staring up at Gabe, her eyes indifferent, a hand rubbing at her cheek. Ever the brave one, she made no reaction – something that would, without a doubt, displease their step-father.

"Gabe, man," Frank said – he could have been an actor, but instead he'd decided to be a creep. Helena supposed that sometimes there wasn't much of a difference. "She's just a kid."

Her step-father turned, his eyes running up and down his friend; amusement filled them moments later. It should have alarmed Helena to know that her step-father was as aware of his friend's inclinations as much as she was – and still, he decided to remain close with the other man. Worst of all, Helena loathed the way Percy fell for his act. Being a good sister, she'd warned her over and over and over again that nothing Gabe liked could be anything but vile.

"If you like her so much, why don't you take her home with you? Maybe it'd teach her to respect me more, ha." It was a joke. A bad one, with implications that appeared to run right over Percy's head. Were it not for their trip to Montauk, Helena wouldn't be surprised if Percy continued her act up, choosing to insist that she'd much rather go with Frank than remain at the apartment any longer.

Frank flustered, pretending to be mortified by the underlying statement to Gabe's words. He'd do in a heart-beat. It wouldn't surprise Helena if the despicable man had already offered. Gabe would have shut him down, understanding that Sally would lose her mind if she ever found out. That didn't mean their step-father hadn't given it some thought, probably, still, in fact, contemplated it. Percy was young, but not so young that even he would feel bad about selling her off a few times in exchange for a couple hundred bucks. And Helena felt that one day…one day, Percy was going to push their step-father's buttons a little too hard, pushing past the limit of reason, where he forgot even his own skewed ideas of what he should and should not do.

Their friends laughed, understanding the meaning as well. Helena inhaled deep, calming her nerves, as she walked back into their front room: the living room and dining room were pretty much the same room.

Gabe swiveled his head. "Lena," he grinned, showing off a few of his chipped teeth. "Was just about to call for you, sweet-cheeks. My boys and I decided we wanted some nachos. You do know how to make nachos, don't you?" He snorted. "Ha! Of course, you do. Even an idiot could make something as simple as that."

Helena bit her tongue until it bled, nodding whilst a fake smile spread from cheek to fucking cheek. Frank did not bother faking sympathy with her – she knew what he was, and he knew that she knew too.

"Dumb as a rock, but she can cook good." Gabe chuckled, sitting back down at their table, picking up his hand of cards. Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him: the mantra was beginning to lose its bluster.

Percy reared up again, face reddening, but Helena grabbed at her hand, squeezing it. The younger girl tilted her head towards the direction of their room. Percy hesitated, but understood her meaning: the two of them were good at that. Sally would get off of work soon enough, bringing home with her a box of multi-colored cookies and the promise of temporary freedom.