Page 163 of Rebel Hawke

He turned Sam into a thug.

Exactly what Atlas would end up doing for Satriano if he caves to the man now.

“He’ll do the same thing if I don’t—to Coen.” His shoulders tense, like he’s gearing up for a battle. “I’d much rather it were me than him. I can fucking take it, Wren. Coencan’t.”

For all his strength, Atlas’ bleeding heart and loyalty to his family are his weaknesses. He will sacrifice himself over and over again before ever allowing anyone else to get hurt.

“It isn’t your responsibility to take on the debts and ramifications of everyone else’s actions, Atlas. I think you’ve done enough by taking a bullet for your cousins.”

He freezes behind the couch and turns to face me, gripping the leather in his hands so tightly it creaks.

I’m sure he’s thought all these things himself; he just never expected someone else to say them to him. But that’s what Gramps brought me here for—topushhim. To make him stronger. To help him achieve the only dream he’s ever had.

And I won’t let him flush that down the fucking toilet.

“The Atlas I know, the one I fell in love with, the one I’vealwaysloved, isn’t a quitter. He isn’t going to give up and roll over for a man like Satriano. “We’ve all worked too hard for this. Gramps, me, and especially you, for you to throw it all away because your cousin made a stupid fucking mistake.”

Atlas shakes his head. “He’s such a fucking idiot…” He releases a long, deep sigh, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet mine again. “You’d really leave me? You’d really take my baby and go?”

The waver in his voice almost breaks me on the spot.

But my first priority has to be this baby and having Atlas beholden to Satriano, allowing that man into our lives that way, isn’t going to be good for any of us.

A little sob slips from my lips, and I grab the banister to help keep me upright. “I don’t have a choice. I knew this Satriano thing wouldn’t just go away, but it was always so removed. Vague threats and an unsteady truce. That isn’t the case anymore. If you win and he comes at you for his financial losses, it doesn’t change anything from where we already stood. Not really. Watching our backs. More security. And at least it would have been forsomething.But if you make a deal with the Devil, then you’re destroying yourself and telling him that you’ll do it again and again for him. That you’ll be his puppet.”

“I wouldn’t do that—”

“Unless he threatens another one of the Hawkes?”

Because Satriano clearly knows the biggest weakness of every single one of them—love for each other.

He weaponized Coen, and he hit his target with Atlas.

“Fuck.” Atlas sucks in a wheezing breath and shakes his head, releasing the couch and making his way to the door. “I can’t—”

“Where are you going?”

He shoves his feet into his shoes and grabs his keys off the small stand next to the door, turning back to look at me. “I need some air. I need to think, and I can’t do that around you. I love you too damn much.”

24

TEN MINUTES UNTIL TITLE FIGHT

ATLAS

Fight night always buzzes with ethereal energy. An intense electric current that ripples through every nerve in my body and makes goosebumps rise over my skin. It tingles down my arms and into my hands. Makes me twitchy. Unable to remain still. On edge.

And tonight, it’s amplified by a thousand.

Truly unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, even before the biggest fights of my life leading up to this one.

I’d love to pretend it’s because of how important the opening is for the family. Or even because I’ve prepared for this my entire career and it’s my first chance at the belt.

But that would be a lie.

It has nothing to do with the ribbon cutting, the official Hawke Hotel doors flying wide, the thousands of people filing in through the new lobby and onto the casino floor, or the way the area vibrates as they start to take their seats pre-fight.

I can block all those things out.

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