Atlas - Roberts Alyne - Страница 27

• Предыдущая
• 27/47
• Следующая

I pushed open the doors to the back deck and inhaled the crisp air. I felt weak, mentally and physically. My mind was spinning with possibilities, both good and bad. My nights were restless and my bones ached carrying the emotional load. Atlas ignored me, pushed me aside like the tool I really was. There was a point where I thought he would save me; now I wasn’t too sure.

"You okay? You look pale," Tony said behind me.

"Just fine."

I wasn't fine. I stared over the water until I heard Tony step back inside, no doubt still close by. Despite feeling so lonely, I wanted to be left alone. I wanted company, not a body guard or babysitter.

A chill ran through my body as I looked out over the lake. The trees around me were changing color. This place could actually be very beautiful if you could block out all the bad. I leaned over the railing, looking over and into the murky water. I pulled myself up on the ledge. Slowly, so I wouldn't lose my balance, I pushed myself up upright.

I stood on the wood railing and all I could see was the water. I wanted to block out everything behind me, my past. Confinement, fear, and eminent death waited for me back there. The wind blew through my hair and I felt lighter in the chill with nothing below me but water. My balance wavered but I didn't care if I fell.

"I bet it's freezing," Atlas said behind me. "You going for a swim?"

"I don't know how to swim," I admitted, slowly turning to face him.

Atlas looked perfect as usual. His suit jacket hugged the muscles I knew were under there. His tie was gone but he looked put together. Always in perfect control. He watched me carefully, debating and planning. With measured steps, he came closer until he was right in front of me.

"Get down from there, Stella," he demanded. "Don't make me force you."

I laughed, the bitter sound echoing in the emptiness. My head was fuzzy and I felt tired. Tired of fighting, running and hiding. I wanted it all to be over already. I just didn't know how this story would end. Did it end with my death? My security and a happy ending? Only Atlas could give me any kind of finale.

"Stella, you don't look so good," Atlas said, coming closer and reaching up. "Please get down."

"Now I don't look good?" I asked bitterly. I was acting like a child but couldn't seem to stop it. "It's the black hair, isn't it?"

Atlas sighed and rubbed his face roughly. "I like the hair. That's not what I meant. Just come down."

I shook my head but the movement threw off my whole balance. I stumbled and swayed, losing my footing on the thin railing. When I expected to hit the cold water, warm arms wrapped around me. I hit a hard chest and my body went limp.

"Shit, Stella. You're burning up."

I felt myself moving but I couldn't keep my eyes open. I tried so hard to open them. I needed to see where they were taking me. What if I needed to fight back? I couldn't even lift my head enough to look around. My cheek stayed firmly pressed to Atlas's chest.

"She passed out," Atlas told someone. "She's burning up. What the hell happened?"

"Nothing. She didn't even leave her room," said Tony. "She hasn't eaten or anything."

I heard my bedroom door being kicked open and saw my familiar ceiling. I stared up at this ceiling so often, it was sad I would instantly recognize it. Atlas put me down on my bed and I sunk into the soft mattress and down comforter. His large hands ran over my face and forehead. His touch was gentle and soft, unlike any other way he ever touched me.

"Get something she can drink or eat," Atlas said quietly, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Atlas ran his hands down my face and neck. His fingers were feather light. It was a stark contrast to the roughness he had always showed me.

"You still with me?" he asked quietly.

"Think so," I whispered, my throat sore and raspy. "You can break your promise, Atlas."

"What promise?"

I struggled to open my eyes and finally blinked them open. Atlas's dark eyes were staring down at mine. His face was so close I could smell the faint scent of whiskey. Light stubble lined his strong jaw and I noticed a small scar on his bottom lip. I briefly wondered how he got it.

"I'm no use to you anymore. You can just let me die and Ace will never know the difference," I told him, still staring at his lips and the scar.

"Don't be stupid Stella," he said. "We are gearing up for war here, Little Star. You aren't done here yet, so quit trying to chicken out."

Atlas pulled away from me and my eyes fell closed. A coldness wrapped around me as voices whispered around me. Sounds faded out and back in. Atlas tried to pull me up but I couldn't hold myself up. I wanted to, but I couldn't fight anymore. I had nothing left.

"You need to try to eat this," he said to me, putting a spoon to my lips.

Atlas and Tony force fed me chicken broth. It burned my mouth but the salty familiar taste warmed me from the inside. My head pounded, my eyes burned as I tried to refuse the soup. I didn't want their help. I didn't want anyone's help anymore. I just wanted it to be over.

Just when I thought I was going to have my peace, I was awake. Ice cold water was spraying on me and I gasped in shock.

"What the fuck!" I shouted, trying to get away from the freezing water.

"Stop," Atlas demanded in a voice that made me pause.

He was in his boxers and white collared shirt. He was soaked, holding me in the shower.

"I had to cool you down," he explained. "Your fever got too high."

I relaxed into his chest and let the water cool me down. I was shivering but I could feel the sweat on my skin. My hair was damp so I dipped my head back, letting the cool spray soak through. The sound of my teeth chattering echoed in the large bathroom.

"Thanks," I mumbled, weak and exhausted.

"Don't thank me," he said. "Come on. You need food now that you're conscious."

He reached over and turned off the water. I took Atlas's outstretched hand and let him pull me to my feet. I lost my balance, but Atlas was quick to grab me. His hands held my hips and he looked down at me. We were both soaked in our clothes and his hair dripped water on my face. We were so close, I could feel his body heat and the beat of his heart through his chest.

"Don't give up yet, Stella," he said, running a thumb over my skin. "You are better than that. Better than us."

Atlas didn't give me a chance to respond before he pulled me from the shower. I got my privacy to dry off and put on warm, dry clothes. I was slow and weak, but I could stand on my own two feet. When I stepped into the bedroom, Atlas was sitting on the bed with a tray of food. Too tired to argue, I sat next to him and took the tray when he passed it over.

The soup was chicken noodle from the can but reminded me of home. My mom would make it whenever one of us was sick. The whole family would eat chicken noodle soup and crackers even if just Ace had the cold. Dad teased mom that it was just so she didn't need to cook extra. I think she didn't want one of us to feel left out.

I stared down into the broth and felt my eyes misting over. I tried to blink and hide it in time, but I was too late.

"I followed you," Atlas said, breaking our silence. "My dad sent me down after the cops found the bodies. He tried to tell me one of his enemies went after Ace, taking out the family, but you escaped."

I put down my spoon and looked up at him. I knew he had found me before the night of the club, but I was unsure how far back.

• Предыдущая
• 27/47
• Следующая