Page 22 of Atlas Uncharted

Chapter 13

Kairi

I knew accepting Ashlen’s invitation to her baby shower was a mistake the moment I walked into the overly decorated ballroom, drowning in gold, pastels, and cheap sentiment. She had always been gaudy, but this was overkill.

I’d spoken to her and her friends and was glad when she left me alone. She had dyed her hair blonde and refashioned herself as some kind of modern-day trad wife, so she had new friends. I didn’t want to be there, but I’d missed her wedding, so I felt guilty and pressured.

She had plastered my name and childhood pics of us all over her social media, making my appearance mandatory—my agent said so. Suddenly, I was her best friend again because my first book, Heaven on His Shoulder, had climbed the bestseller lists.

The one saving grace was that it was an all-women event. I wouldn’t have to see Atlas. It had been two years since he’d shown up at my apartment. I still couldn’t believe his audacity. He had chosen Ashlen—why was he so pressed about me?

I had promised Ashlen a few hours, and I felt like they were up. The noise was fraying my nerves. Random strangers wanting to talk about what I should have put in my book were fraying my nerves. It was time to go. After I used the restroom. I’d drunk a lot of champagne. It was six. My flight back to New York wasat ten. I had time to stop by my father’s. After he gave me my mother’s insurance and sent me on my way, I decided I wouldn’t let him push me away anymore. I started calling him daily, checking in. Making him talk to me. I visited. We’d rebuilt our relationship from the ground up.

He’d met a woman a few months ago. Mrs. Shirley. He was happy again now.

Ducking my head, I was able to slip out of the ballroom unnoticed. I headed to the restroom.

When I came out of the stall, he was waiting for me.

Atlas was leaning against the wall next to the door, his suit wrinkled, his tie hanging loose, his eyes glazed. He was obviously drunk. He liked whiskey, and I could smell it on him from twenty feet away. The look in his eyes made my bones ache.

“For you to show up here... You’re just torturing me now,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us in a few quick strides.

I narrowed my eyes, standing my ground. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” I tried to make my voice sound firm, though I was shaken. I hadn’t prepared myself for him being here.

“I read the book, Kairi,” he said, stepping closer. “It wrecked me.”

“Okay, sounds like a personal problem.”

“It’s about me.”

He was right. At first, I didn’t realize I was writing about him. When I did, I leaned into it. It was a release. A purge for me. For him, it was a punishment. I knew he’d read it. I wrote the perfecthappily ever after, including everything he said he wanted from me. I gave him the fantasy, but denied him the reality.

“That first day we met... the party... it’s all in there. Nearly word for word.”

“It’s fiction.” I would take it to my grave that it wasn’t.

“No,” he said. “It’s a confession.”

I rolled my eyes and turned toward the sink. “Everything’s about you, huh?”

His laugh was hollow. “Isn’t it?”

“Congratulations on the baby. What are you naming them? Regret?” I was being petty.

He frowned, shaking his head now. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m serious. What’s their name gonna be, Atlas? Broken Promise? Emotional Damage?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved faster than I could react, his hands gripping my hips. He lifted me onto the sink. The hard edge of the porcelain bit into my thighs, but the pain barely registered because, in the next breath, I heard the ripping sound of my panties being torn away.

He pushed my legs open.

I was wearing a mid-thigh evening dress; he didn’t even have to move it—it rode my waist.

Atlas didn’t give me time to think or protest. He thrust into me, stealing the air from my lungs, his movements wild.

His dick was so big, stretching me.

---