Page 35 of Rebel Hawke

He brushes past Atlas, intentionally slamming his right shoulder against Atlas’ left one.

Atlas winces and grips it with the opposite hand, hissing through his teeth as Damon casually makes his way to the door and his two men. One keeps his gun at the ready, watching us, while the other tugs open the door for his boss.

They follow him out, keeping their eyes on Atlas the entire time.

The moment the door swings closed, I finally manage to take another shallow breath. “You want to explain what the fuck that was?” I raise a shaking hand and point toward the SUV as it pulls away from the curb. “You just scared off my first client.”

Atlas wheels on me, his hand still pressed over his shoulder. His eyes blaze, and he stalks toward me, backing me up against the mirror, until mere inches separate us and I have nowhere left to go. “You have no idea who the fuck that was or how much danger you’re in.”

I press my palms flat against the glass behind me, searching for anything to cling to, anything that might stop the trembling as the adrenaline coursing through my system starts to ebb.

But the vise circling my chest won’t release, and the pure anger in Atlas’ gaze makes genuine fear of his power rush through me for the first time.

He moves forward another step.

I shake my head, tears starting to cloud my vision. “Atlas, d-d-don’t…”

ATLAS

I freeze immediately,letting my hand fall away from my shoulder despite the sharp pain still shooting through it. Because it’s the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.

The pain in Wren’s gaze is all I can see or care about.

Shit.

She’s fucking terrified.

Shaking.

Ready to burst into tears.

But she isn’t scared of the man she should be.

Not of Damiano Satriano.

Wren is terrified ofme, of the way I reacted, of the anger and how I lashed out at the man she only saw as her first potential client.

A man who presents so well, who mesmerizes women and somehow entrances people under his spell. Like a damn venomous spider—spinning a web and luring in his prey so he can inject them with his poison and tear into them while they still breathe.

Her body trembles as she presses herself back against the glass, unable to retreat from me any farther. Though the look in her terrified eyes tells me she’d like to.

Fucking hell.

The last thing I’d ever want is to scare Wren, to make her think I might be a threat toherin any way, shape, or form.

“Wren…”

Barely a whisper, her name comes out as the plea it is.

For her to listen to me…

For her to understand…

Her bottom lip quivers, unshed tears shimmering across her gaze.

I ignore the throb in my shoulder from Damon smashing into it and hold up my hands, taking a half-step closer. The scent ofher fear mixes with the almond and cherry fragrance that always seems to cling to her. “Wren, I wouldneverhurt you.”

She shakes her head. “You forget…I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Atlas. I’ve seen what my grandfather trained you to be.”

---