Atlas - Roberts Alyne - Страница 25

Spinning away from the wall, Atlas dropped us to the bed and pulled out of me. I couldn't breathe or even control my racing heart. I was sweaty, weak, and my mind was all over the place. I couldn't understand why I had let that happen or why I had enjoyed it so fucking much. It was as if we had both finally satisfied a craving that had been eating at us. I closed my eyes, afraid to look into his face while he removed the belt from my wrists.

"Yes. Go clean yourself up."

With that, he left the room, locking the door behind him. On shaky legs, I made it to the bathroom and under the hot spray. I let the scalding water wash away the marks he left on my body. But even the burning water couldn't fully erase it. His teeth marks and bruises still would mark me when I stepped out. There would no removing Atlas from my body.

That was exactly what he wanted. Atlas felt as if he didn't have any control so he took it. Last night in the living room, his true intentions were revealed. He didn't want me dead. I just had the task of finding out why. Was it because of his promise to Ace? Was it because I was innocent and didn't deserve to be executed in front of the fireplace in a lake house?

Not for the first time, I wondered who would attend my funeral when I had one. Liddy may never hear the news. I didn't have any family left to cry over my casket. I had alienated everyone else after the murders to the point that I didn't think I had anyone left to care. Atlas was the only one willing to fight for my life, no matter the reasons. Against all good judgement, that was the only comforting thought that kept me from falling apart.

I stepped out of the shower and pulled on my robe. I wrapped it tightly around me, needing the warmth. I felt alone and scared, but safe and protected at the same time. Only he could give me such contrasting feelings. I hated it but needed it at the same time. My room was empty but filled with the smell of our combined sweat and bodies. It was a harsh reminder of what had just happened.

I crawled under the covers, exhausted from the lack of sleep and everything that had occurred in the last twenty-four hours. As the darkness pulled me under, I couldn't help but wonder what would happen when the sun rose.

When I was a kid, I thought that monsters only lurked in the darkness. It was only at night when evil came out. As I grew up, I learned that the scary stories had that part very wrong. When the sun rose, the evil was still there. If you turned on the lights, the monsters were still there. They were not afraid of light or dark.

Something would be different in the morning. Light was already shed on the evil, and I saw it differently. Atlas was still a monster, a ruthless killer, but not one I would fear. As with anything powerful and strong, there was a weakness. Atlas's weakness was me.

XVIII

Atlas

Stella's breathing was deep and even. She slept without nightmares. After I left her to clean up, I snuck back in when she fell asleep. I fucked up last night. Fuck-ups are unlike me. I didn't have a backup plan for this. There was no Plan B for "Atlas fucked the prisoner we were supposed to kill at the end." Why didn't I think this through?

Where did I mess up? Was it watching her for so long while I learned her habits and waiting for the police to forget about her? Did I make the fatal mistake when I touched her skin at the club? Maybe I should have never kissed her. I knew I shouldn't have fucked her.

How did this make me any better than my own father? This whole thing started because he crossed the line into a territory I didn't want to be in, one I thought we were better than. Keeping her against her will, fucking her, and lying to her only to kill her in the end made me just like him. It was no different than what he was doing.

Stella flinched and I knew she was waking. I could sneak out and send one of the guys in. Sal would be glad to have the task, but that thought made me clench my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I may have strayed from the plan, but I was smart. I could think of another plan. One where I didn't have to watch the life drain out of her eyes would be preferred.

"What are you doing in here?" a groggy voice asked. It was raspy from sleep and screaming the night before.

"Thinking," I told her.

Stella rolled and stretched, the blankets falling off her in the process. She was wearing only a robe that had come untied during the night. Smooth, creamy skin was exposed to me. Red teeth marks covered her neck and shoulders. I promised I would hurt her and I never broke a promise. I lost my control with her, and Stella paid the price.

I was a man who never lost my head no matter the intensity of the situation. I never lost my cool in a fight or any dangerous situation I found myself in. And I absolutely never got so lost when with a girl that I didn't think of protection. Stella has this power to make me lose my fucking mind, and I couldn't even think sometimes when she was around.

Stella quickly pulled her robed closed and sat up. Running her hands through her hair, she tried to tame it but gave it up. It stuck up in all directions from tossing and turning all night. Her face was bare of makeup and her lips were still swollen. She was beguiling first thing in the morning, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. I thought her little dress last night was my weakness, but it didn't matter what the fuck she wore.

I looked at her face expecting to see fear and hate. Maybe even anger for taking her so hard and rough. I didn't see any of that though. I saw a calm and acceptance I had never seen in those blue eyes. Never in the months I followed and watched her.

What had she accepted? Me? Her own fate? The fact that she was paying for everyone else's mistakes?

"I've done bad things, Stella," I said gruffly. "Don't look at me like what I did to you was okay. You need to never let me touch you again. I told you that before."

"My dad once said that sometimes good people have to do bad things to save people from other bad things," she said softly.

Her words sent a shock wave through me. She was stubborn and naive just like her brother had warned. I stood and stalked over to the end of the bed. She had the decency to shrink away from me in the slightest as I approached.

"Little star, I'm not a good person," I said, tilting her face up to look at me. She needed to see what I really was.

"Without a doubt, you've done bad things. Ace too. But whatever you are doing now, I think it's to help someone. Ace would never have gone to my dad that night otherwise," she explained.

She looked so sure, so confident in her assumption. Ace loved his little sister. It was the only thing that made me believe he wouldn't turn on me. To save her. I shook my head, fully convinced then that Ace didn’t go there to tell his dad about me and the family. He was there for help.

"I was raised by criminals," I said. "I was born into the family. My dad is the worst and most dangerous man I know. He raised me as his son."

I remembered instead of going to the middle school dance, I went with my dad to beat up someone who owed him money. That was just child's play, the easiest of tasks. I thought I was so cool that I left Marissa May waiting for me while we left some guy bloodied in a parking lot.

"I played my part and contributed to the family like the rest, Stella. Don't think for a second that I'm innocent. There's too much blood on my hands."