Page 69 of Atlas

His hand whips out and cracks brutally against Agatha’s cheek.

“Oh my god!” I throw my arms around her, catching her as her neck snaps to the side and the force of the blow carries her into me. I cradle her face while her hand flies up to her cheek, a nasty red mark standing out livid against her thin, pale skin.

“Stop it!” I wheeze, shock and horror stealing my voice. “How could you do that to your own mother!”

“My mother loved this land more than she ever loved me,” Phil snarls. “And my stupid father. She loved him too. He was the only thing that ever truly mattered to her, and she won’t leave this house. This place is a mausoleum. It’s a shrine to him. No matter how much I begged her to see me, to love me…”

“So just because you have mama issues, you think you can steal a bunch of money, break the law, and come here and terrorize us?”

“No, you stupid whore. That money isn’t mine. I took it for safekeeping and now that there’s nokeeping, no one is safe.”

“No one meaning you. They’re coming for you.”

“That’s right.” Phil starts pacing, but the gun remains trained on me. It was probably wise not to antagonize him. I need to keep my head. I can’t lose it like he’s losing control. “I need you to tell me where she went.”

“I don’t know. We don’t knowanything,” I insist. That’s not true, but if I tell him that the club put trackers in the money and they probably do know where his wife is, what will he do to us? The only thing I can think of is time.

We need it. We don’t have it.

Then there’s always the fact that if I tell him what he wants to know, Phil could do anything to us. We’d know more than he’d like. He wouldn’t let us just walk out of here, healthy and happy as we fucking please.

“I’ll tell you exactly what Agatha likely did. We put the club’s phone number in the chest. Your wife called it. She met with them outside of Hart. They gave her the money and advised her to disappear,” I explain patiently. “She didn’t seem to have a problem with that, and she wasn’t afraid to show her face. Itdidn’t seem suspicious. She knew all about it.” I inhale deeply, knowing full well that I’m going to incite Phil’s ire, but I want to draw his attention away from Agatha and Atlas. She’s old and brittle and he’stiedup. Maybe if Phil comes at me, I should try for his gun. It’s dangerous, but Bullet taught Lynette and I how to use one, and also gave us more than basic self-defense training. “Honestly, this seems more like a problem for you and your wife, rather than involving us.”

The red creeps up Phil’s neck in a matter of seconds. He’s livid to the point ofspiraling. Over his shoulder, Atlas grows visibly more agitated. He shoves his arms up and down, trying to shimmy out of the ropes, but it’s going to be impossible for him to free himself from those cuffs.

“No!” Phil pretty much screams, leaning straight into my face. “This your problem. You and your stupid club. You’ll have to pay for giving my money away and for her duplicity.” He grasps my hair, wrenching a handful to the side so fast that pain explodes in my scalp and wrenches sickeningly in my neck. “How much are you worth to your stupid club, hmm?”

Phil tugs me straight off the couch using my hair. He winds it tighter around his fist, and it’s either fall into step with him or let him tear a bloody chunk out of the side of my head.

“You’re worth so much more alive, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun, hmm?” He sniffles, slurping snot back. I half expect him to spit it out on me, but he swallows it back. My gorge rises at the disgusting sound. He points at the wood stove in the corner of the room. There’s a pile of wood neatly stacked at the side. “Light it.”

My throat closes again as fear prickles over my skin, goosebumps cropping up on my arms. He wheels me to the stove and forces me down onto my knees. I reach for a piece of wood, open the glass door, and shove it in, even as I feel the barrel of the gun press into the back of my head.

I load it up, hoping to hell that it catches when I try and light it.

Light it. With what?

Phil answers that for me before I have to ask. He throws a lighter down onto the floor. I scoop it up, my hands trembling so violently that I have to try several times to get the wheel to turn. Eventually, it sparks and I stick my hand in the stove. The fire licks along the crisp woods, curling little hairs before it wraps around to the bark on the back side. I think I’ll have to do this for hours, but thankfully the bark catches, the flames spreading fast, crawling over the entire surface and spreading to the pieces I’ve stacked above and below.

“It’s nicely seasoned. Pine. It’ll burn hot.”

The heat hits me in the face. I get a terrible image of Phil shoving my head in there, or my hands, or pressing my face to the top or sides while it’s hot. Acid washes over the back of my tongue. I quickly shut the glass door and turn the handle as the flames rush up behind it.

“Phil, please stop this now. They don’t know anything, and they don’t have your money. This is only going to bring the wrath of the entire club down on your head.” Agatha is right behind me suddenly. She has her hand on Phil’s arm, pleading with him.

He’s struck her once, and he’s not afraid to do it again. This time, his open palm cracks against her face so hard that it sends her spinning. She hits the couch and slumps to the floor, moaning.

I try to race to her to help her, but Phil shoves the gun right in my face. From this angle, I can see that it’s not cocked, but that gives me no measure of comfort.

“Willa!” Atlas yells my name frantically. He strains against the ropes, leaping around in the chair so wildly that it nearly falls over. He gives up and picks the whole thing up, standing with it attached to him.

“Sit the fuck down or I put a bullet in her.” Now Phil cocks the gun. He aims it lower, pointing it at my thigh. Still not comforting, but at least I can live with a bullet there.

I hope.

I know there are major arteries in the legs. If he hits one, I could bleed out.

Atlas’ face crumples. There’s no hiding how seeing me in danger breaks him. I know that he would rather take that bullet any day than see that weapon trained on me.

---