Page 2 of Atlas
“Okay,” He lets out this nasally whistle breath through his nose that causes me to cringe. It’s actually a super annoying sound.
“You may want to get that looked at tomorrow,” I state as I tap my own nose. “That noise will become distracting as fuck.”
Andrew looks at me as if annoyed. I shrug and wait for him to continue, most people can’t deal with my brain and energy, and I don’t really care if I am “too much” for him. In fact, I want nothing more than to be too much.
“Yes,” Andrew says slowly. “I… hit her.”
“For how long?” I snarl through my tense jaw, the white hot rage coursing its way through my body making me shake. I want him dead, Ineedhim dead. But first, I must make himwishhe were dead.
“Just the one–” I punch him in his soft abdomen with such force I swear I can almost feel where his spine would be, if he had one. Instead of continuing to prop him up, this time I allow his body to fall to the ground before kicking him in his side. Grabbing him, I heave him back to the standing position and push him back against the building. His head won’t stop nodding and lulling.
“Try again.” I bark as I grip his hair to hold his head straight. “And think real fucking hard about whether you should lie to me.” I would give him this, he is able to take a beating a lot better than I initially thought, though his pleading is becoming a little too annoying.
“It’s not how it looks! And she forgave me and we worked it out! We always do! I love her.” Those words snap something inside me and time no longer exists. Nothing exists. No,hedoes not get to say those words. This worthless fuck does not get to love her. You don’t steal someone’s light if you love them. Everything is red, I can’t see him or any of my surroundings. My hearing is muffled, just faint cries and yells from what seems like miles away. The sirens are what pull me out of my blackout, followed by the screams and shouts, guns drawn, handcuffs and me being forced onto the hard concrete ground.
Letting out a breath, I stare out the window of the cop cruiser–allowing the blur that’s been the last few minutes finally come together in my head. I shift, the handcuffs are a little tighter than necessary in my opinion and my shoulders are too big to be squeezed like this behind my back. Watching, I see the paramedics load the stretcher into the back of an ambulance with Andrew’s bloodied, beaten, and motionless body strappedto it. I’m momentarily pleased with myself, but that moment is gone fast once the realization of what I’ve done hits me like a ton of bricks.
Andrew Cambridge, son of one of the biggest defense attorneys in this city, is laying–possibly dead-on that stretcher. And I’m the one that put him there.
Fuck.
Chapter 1
Atlas
“Ireally appreciate this, Fox.” I pat my friend on his back as we walk from the courthouse to his truck. “You know, you really ought to look into a greener vehicle besides this gas guzzler.” I smirk as I watch the dark blonde brow on Fox’s face twitch slightly.
“It’s diesel.” He mutters in his deep‘I’m a grumpy badass’way.
Gasping, I clutch my chest. “You heathen. Do you not care for your mother earth? You are in Southern California, you cannot drive a diesel truck.”
“Listen fucker, first off, you drive a fucking Tahoe, so shut the flapper.”
“It’s a hybrid.” I counter and he scoffs.
“It’s still shit on gas. And second, anybody that has a problem with my truck can gladly say it to my face. And you shouldn’t be talking shit since you are expecting a fucking ride.” Today was sentencing for my assault charges. Thankfully,I guess, Andrew didn’t die or end up in a coma after the beat down I gave him four months ago. And with the help of our tattoo shop’s shark of a lawyer, Frank, I didn’t serve any more jail time than when thecops picked me up at the bar after I hit… okay, beat the ever-loving fuck out of Andrew. I do, however, have six hundred and seventy-five hours of community service to atone for my sins.
It’s fucking bullshit if you ask me. He beat his girlfriend andIam the one being punished. And I mean that in every possible way, except for the sexy ones. During the last four months, I’ve lost clients at the tattoo shop I work at, I’ve missed conventions I was supposed to attend, and had to move out of my apartment that I rented with my friend and co-worker, Ash. But the absolute worst thing I’ve had to deal with is the fact that Ren hasn’t spoken to me since that night. No texts, no calls, no visits. Nothing. While I’m not happy about my punishment, I would take it over and over again for her, gladly. Hell, I was ready to face prison time. So to not hear from her even once in four months, yeah, it stings.
“Have you talked to Ren?” I ask Fox once we are on the road. He rolls his eyes and glares at me before turning his attention back to the road.
“You know I have. She is Torch’s best friend.”Torchbeing Janie Pierce, Fox’s girlfriend. Janie is the daughter of mine and Fox’s now deceased boss and mentor, Tony. About a year and a half ago, Janie came in to co-run her father’s tattoo shop,Hel’s Inkwith Fox.After more drama and angst than a soap opera, those two idiots realized they were disgustingly in love with each other and even though Fox is like seventy-four and Janie is barely legal, they’ve seemed to have made it work…
Okay, she’s like twenty-seven and he’s forty-five or something, same difference. Anyway, Janie, Torch or as I call her,Red, orMama J–yes, she is a woman of many personalities and it’s best to have a name for them all. She is the queen bee of our hive and she is as close to Ren as one can get, which is awesome, unless you are on Ren’s shit list and want to contact her. Which is where I currently am and have been for the lastfour months. Then the short red head becomes this tiny freckled impenetrable wall between you and Ren.
Groaning, I look out the window at, well, nothing in particular, it’s the city, it’s roads and cars and billboards, there is nothing to look at, ever. “I just want to know if she’s okay.” I state softly, keeping my eyes fixed on the nothingness outside the window. Fox gets uncomfortable with feelings that don’t involve general irritation. Unless it’s with Janie, then he turns into this gross marshmallow fluff oversized man with a magnificent beard. But, because of his selective aversion to feelings, I try not to talk about mine too much.
Sighing dramatically, I roll my head back on the headrest and look towards him. “I mean, I was just trying to save her life, and what if you were trying to save Janie and she iced you out, didn’t even show up for your sentencing and you didn’t know how she was?”
Fox parks the truck outside the hotel I’ve been living in for the last couple of months. He stares out the windshield, a scowl firmly planted on his face before sighing, “Ren is sick,” his grave tone grabs my attention and I sit upright as he continues.
“That's why she wasn’t there today. She actually did plan on being there, despite everyone telling her it would be a bad idea considering Andrew would be there and you are trying to keep her name out of this, but she got sick and is in the hospital right now. So I need to drop you off and then go get Bruno and pray that this doesn’t give Janie fur-baby fever again. Every time we pet sit, I have to hear about Winston being an only child for weeks and it’s becoming a problem.”
“Wait…” I shake my head, trying to pull the important information out of that mess and pack away the questionable relationship Fox and Janie have with their rescue cat. “Ren is sick? Sick enough to be in the hospital?”
Fox nods and shrugs. “She’s stable, from what Janie said this morning. But yeah, she was sick with some nasty cold or something and then her sugars were acting up or something. I don’t know man, I’m sure it has something to do with her diabetes.”
I frown as I look forward while trying to wrap my brain around his words. “She never told me she’s diabetic.”
