Page 32 of Atlas

Lynette is standing by Willa, her arm wrapped around her shoulders, her hand stroking her hair over and over, though it appears involuntary. Willa lets her comfort her, though Willa’s stillness might be working the other way around, whether Lynette is aware of that dynamic or not.

“I’m sorry,” Tyrant says, turning to my family. “But until this is settled, you’re going to have to come to the clubhouse. It’s the only way we can keep you safe for certain. I understand this could disrupt your jobs, and one of our men would be happy to drive you to and from work each morning and ensure that you’re safe while you’re there. We’ll drive by your house too, to make certain it’s secure.”

Tyrant might be young, but he’s immediately captivating. He’s magnetic, but he has an immediate aura of trust and capability that sits like a mantle on his broad shoulders. He continues, “We’re not going on lockdown, but the option for families to come to the clubhouse for a few days is definitely there, or we’ll have men driving by or securing their homes and standing guard.”

“Does that include us?” Lynette asks, clearly meaning Willa and not Bullet. He already obviously will be at the clubhouse.

“I’m sorry, Willa. I know this will interrupt your business when you just opened, but you’re in the thick of this. We’ll move this to the clubhouse immediately and you should definitely come with us.”

Willa doesn’t groan about her business. She doesn’t try and make a plan up and fling it at Tyrant, begging him or acting petulant. “What about Agatha?” she asks, all her worry for that tiny old lady alone in her farmyard, completely vulnerable right now.

My heart twinges so hard that I just about beat it with my fist to get it working properly again, but a heady dose of pride accompanies the tightening. She cares.

Tyrant and Raiden exchange looks. “We think it’s best if we sent two bikes out with you when you drive there. Make a very obvious trail to follow.”

“Follow?” Mom gasps. “What if they ambush them along the way?”

“We could leave a note,” I suggest. “Take the cash out of the trunk and load it into the back of the truck and put itback in the barn. I believe that these people, or maybe it’s just one person, doesn’t want a confrontation. They want this to stay quiet. They’re probably trying to figure out right now how to get that money back if they’ve noticed it’s missing. We could leave the lock off the trunk but put it back exactly as we found it. Leave a phone number or something.”

“That’s a terrible plan,” Georgia groans.

“No.” A sick grin spreads over Raven’s face. “I like it. Leave mine.”

“I’d rather it be one of Wizard’s burners,” Tyrant says, but I can tell he likes the plan otherwise. “The rest makes sense.”

“How are you getting the trunk to the clubhouse?” Willa asks.

It’s a good question, given that everyone came here on bikes and there’s no way it would fit in my parents’ old car or in Lynette’s trunk.

“We’ll bring it,” she states. “In the truck. Atlas will drive and we’ll stuff it into the back seat. It’ll fit, if I put it up. Or we could stuff all the cash into a bunch of suitcases and divide it up between us.”

“No. We’ll do the suitcases and the trunk and take it all to the clubhouse, but there’s no way you’re riding with me for that. You can go with Lynette and Bullet, and my parents will follow you over to the clubhouse. Someone will go with them later to their house to help them pack.”

Willa’s lips thin out. It’s obvious that she hates that idea. Her eyes flash like she’s going to argue, but instead she shuts it down, glances once at Lynette, and nods.

“Okay. I’ll find the suitcases for you, and then I’ll pack a bag. The sooner we get to Agatha, the better. I’ll be fast.”

Tyrant and Raiden share another one of their secret, loaded looks. They have their own silent language, I swear. They’ve been friends since kindergarten and they’re closer than the twins, Grave and Decay. Those guys are meatheads, but Tyrant and Raiden have real working brains.

Tyrant gives me an unexpected nod of approval. What I just did is vastly out of character. I’m not the kind of guy who figures out a course of action. I’m content to sit back and let others in the club take the lead, as their rank denotes that they should. I’m a younger guy and I’ve always been okay with following orders. I might have had some ideas of my own in the past, but I never thought it was right to voice them.

“Assuming it’s a guy that this cash belongs to,” Willa mutters. “I’d really like to throat punch him when he arrives to collect it.”

Raven laughs way harder than he should. “I like you.”

The urge to throat punchhimjust grew exponentially.

“I hope that we can get this figured out within a few days and have everyone back to their lives.” Tyrant’s deep voice booms through the back bay. It’s like a call to action and everyone gets moving.

I’m torn between my club, my family, and Willa, but in the end, it’s my dad who gives me an encouraging nod, despite his pale, shell shocked expression. “Go help Willa. We’re fine.” He gathers my mom into his side and Georgia follows, huddling up with them. I hate that she’s shaking.

Whoever this fucker is, he came into our lives and terrorized my family. He endangered Willa, and he put my club in a tight, dangerous spot.

Throat punching him is just the beginning of what I’d like to do.

Chapter 10

Willa

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