Page 22 of Atlas
“Set her here.” She states, all business. I lay Ren down on the burnt orange couch thing. I have no idea what it’s called, but I’ve seen fancy paintings of naked women laid across them. I shake my head, trying to focus as Ren’s mom speaks. “Did she never get the damn watch?”
I blink, my confusion apparently evident. She growls in frustration. “The smart watch, so that her meter would show up on it. I can’t see into her phone with it locked.”
“Uh, no, she never mentioned it. But that butler guy at the door was given her bag, her kit is in there, I double checked.” Dr. Locklear yells for the butler just as Mr. Locklear walks in from his place in the kitchen.
“She would have that watch,” He grumbles while sipping on his drink. “Had she not gotten herself fired from her job. Now she probably can’t afford it. Especially if she’s carrying you, too.”
I stand up and take three long strides to meet the man. “In the last two decades, the only person taking care of me has been me. If she needs that watch, I’ll have seven on the counter by tomorrow morning. I may not be some billionaire, but I can and will take care ofmywife.”
A humorless laugh escapes his lips. “You’re doing a hell of a job so far, kid. And wife,” he scoffs into his glass of what I’m guessing to be scotch, “Boy you’ve known my daughter for two minutes. You haven’t earned the right to use that term.” I resist the urge to punch him, though I feel like it would be justifiable. I can’t though, hitting a lawyer was bad enough but a judge, I would never get out of prison.
“Well, you’ve known her for twenty-nine years and she’s been having panic attacks about coming over here, so what’s that say about you as a father?” I snap back. I watch his face redden again and I begin to fear the man is going to have a heart attack if he doesn't calm down.
“It tells me,” His voice booms and echoes off the walls as he slams his drink down for the second time in fifteen minutes. “That my daughter knows she did the wrong thing and was afraid to tell me.”
I raise a brow. “Really? And why would a fully grown woman be afraid to tell her father–who she is not dependent on, that she“did the wrong thing”? Unless, when said fully grown woman was once a young girl, she was severely punished for making mistakes.”
Mr. Locklear is about to scream at me. I can see it, but Dr. Locklear’s sharp voice cuts in. “Enough! She’s waking up!”
“Atlas…” Ren’s weak voice grabs my attention, and all the anger I was feeling washes away as I run over to her, falling to my knees.
“Hey pretty girl.” I smile as I brush the fallen strands from her face. “You feeling okay?”
Her face scrunches as she has me slowly help her sit up. “Yeah,” she manages to get out as her mother looks at the meter.
“Your levels look fine.” She says it as though she doesn’t believe the meter.
Her father coughs before speaking and I grit my teeth to stop me from saying something else that will get me in trouble.
“Maybe high blood pressure.” He mutters. “You're looking flush.”
“Right.” I scoff and roll my eyes. Because she’s bigger it must be high blood pressure.
“Atlas,” Ren hisses and grips my hand with hers. Her hands are so clammy. “Please, take me home.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I stand and help her to her feet as she says her goodbyes and apologies to her parents before we leave.
Once we are out of the driveway, it becomes easier to take a breath, that is until I look over at Ren. Her head down, eyes staring at her folded hands in her lap. She’s upset.
“Princess–”
“Please Atlas.” She interrupts. “I’m so sorry about all of this but, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well too fucking bad.” I let a snort out, causing her to glare at me. “What the fuck was that? Your family treats you like shit and you don’t stop them? Ash once made a comment about your cleavage and you threatened to take cutters to his fingers below the knuckles.” She doesn’t speak, her head just stays hanging and I feel a jolt of anger run through me. I whip the vehicle intothe first parking lot I find and slam it into park, causing our seatbelts to jerk us back.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers softly.
I bang my hand on the steering wheel. “Stop being sorry!” I snap and watch as she flinches away from me. Instantly, the anger subsides and shame replaces it. I made her flinch…me.Fucking hell.
Tentatively, I reach over the console and rest my hand over hers. I take a deep breath as I push the darkness back down.
“I’m sorry pretty girl.” I say calmly as I squeeze her hands. “I’m angry with your family, not you.”
“Can you take me home now?” She asks, removing her hands from mine. I deflate, feeling as though I’ve completely fucked up everything.
“Baby, please,” I whisper and instantly, the most heart wrenching sob comes out of her.
“I am so sorry!” She cries out as she bends forward. I rip my seatbelt off and get out of my vehicle before running to her door and ripping it open. Before she can say anything more, I unbuckle her seatbelt and pull her into me. She sobs hard, all while whispering she’s sorry.
