Page 8 of Atlas
“You don’t deserve the sentence you got.” I give my dark-eyed friend a shrug.
“It could’ve been worse.” Ash huffs as he shakes his head.
“At, it could’ve been better! You were defending R–”
Clasping my hand over my friend's face, I shush him. “That’s enough.” I hiss out.
Ash smacks my hand away and wipes his mouth. “Gross, your sweat went into my mouth, dick-hole.”
“I’m just worried about you, At.”
“Yeah, seems to be a common theme nowadays. Really, I’m fine and I’m completely fine with the sentencing. It’s fair for what happened. Now, can we drop it?” Ash wants to say more but doesn’t and I am so very grateful that my friends know when I need them to stop pressing.
Giving Ash’s shoulder a pat, I make my way to the locker room, silently cursing myself for taking the motorcycle instead of my Tahoe.
I winceas I urge my tired, screaming legs to move forward, stepping off the elevator and into the modern hallway ofThe Tides -the tower of an apartment building that Ren lives in. The original plan, though no one would believe me, was to leave the gym, go back to the hotel, take an ice shower and pass the fuck out. I pinky promise, that was one hundred percent what I was going to do. But, as I got closer and closer to that fucking hotel with its uncomfortable bed, weird cleaner smell and the guy that is going through a divorce and living next door to me weeping all night, I just couldn’t handle it. Then, I thought about Ren not messaging me, and I will admit, I got pissed off. I have a thing, a pet peeve if you will, I don’t like when people do not follow through on what they say they will do. Big or small, if you tell someone something, you do it. A therapist could look at that and say it stems from my dysfunctional childhood and my constant lack of stability, but who cares? The point is, you say it, you do it. Ren said she would message me and didn’t. And now I will not be able to relax until I’ve seen her face and find out that she’s okay. So, here I am, in front of her door. I knock on it twice andI hear a small “woof” from Bruno. Followed by the unlocking of the door.
Ren’s polite smile falls when she sees it’s me, because, of course it does. Why wouldn’t it? Forcing the feeling of rejection that is trying to suffocate me aside, I give her my biggest flirtatious smile before leaning my arm on her door frame.
“W-what are you doing here?” She asks and I notice even she flinches at how harsh her tone sounds. “Sorry,” she whispers, sounding embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to sound that rude.”
“You said you would text me when you got out of the hospital,” I shrug, while trying to act like me showing up here is no big deal. “You didn’t, and then you didn't respond to any of my calls or texts.”
Ren leans against the door and it’s at this point I really get a good look at her. She looks like, well, shit, she looks like shit. Pretty shit, breathtaking shit, but shit nonetheless. She has that sick, clammy hue to her skin. Her hair looks like a rat’s nest on top of her head and her bloodshot eyes contrast terribly against her dark rings.
“Okay,” she rolls her head to look up at me and lets out an exhausted breath, as if just that movement took all the energy she had left. “You’re right, I’m a dick. What were you texting me for?”
“Well, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you to tell you, you’re beautiful,” I smirk and give her a wink. “That’s all, just needed to give you your daily reminder that you are a goddess among us.”
Ren stares at me in stunned silence and I wait for her to tell me that I’m a dumbass or a liar, but it never comes. No, something much, much worse happens. I watch as her chocolate eyes become glossy and a big tear falls down her shocked face, another following its path.
No. No. No. No.
“Ren,” My voice cracks on her name. Fuck! I made her cry. “No, Princess, please.” Her face crumples and an actual sob escapes her throat. Instantly, I step into her apartment and wrap my arms around her. She feels…frail. I don’t know what I was expecting. Ren has never been in my arms before except the night at the bar, but the energy she puts out in the world, her presence, I didn’t expect her to feel this weak, and now all I want to do is keep her as close to me as possible. I need to protect her.
My heart skips a literal beat when I feel her push herself deeper against me. Her soft body curling into my hard one and, oh, you havegotto be kidding me. I feelhim, he’s really going to betray me like this? She is CRYING you sick fuck!
As I continue to mentally scold and battle with my traitorous cock, Ren sniffles and pulls away from me. “I’m sorry,” she sobs and falls against me again. “I’m so sorry, Atlas.” Her body shakes with each ragged breath.
“Come on,” I whisper as soothingly as I can, “Let me carry you to your bed.”
Ren half sobs half laughs at my comment which, why? I am trying to be a caring person here. “That’s sweet, but I’m not a small girl, Atlas.” She pats my chest and laughs again before slowly making her way to her end table to grab a tissue.
I cross my arms over my chest. “So? What does that have to do with anything?”
Ren rolls her eyes and has the nerve to look annoyed with me. Even though I am the one that got laughed at. “Atlas, you will blow out both your knees and a testicle if you try to lift me.”
Is she serious? Yeah, Ren is a larger girl. She’s got large breasts and an ass that… nope not thinking about that. Point is, she is curvy, plus size, whatever they call it. But I can still lift her. She has no idea what I do in my free time. I want to prove her wrong. I want to throw her over my shoulder and toss her on her bed like a fucking cave man. But as I watch her pulling out asmall pouch and pricking her finger, I am thrown back into the real world.
Ren is sick.
I watch her put a little stick into a small handheld machine, after a second, it beeps at her and then she begins to clean up.
“Did,” is she going to yell if I ask? “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” she says from her small kitchen before coming back to the couch. “I’m diabetic, so I have to check my blood sugar. Usually I have a monitor that is checking it constantly, but after being in the hospital, my mom wants me to check the old-fashioned way for a little bit.”
I take a seat on her couch and smile when Bruno whines and lies his head on my lap, begging for attention. “You never told me you were diabetic.”
