Page 109 of Atlas
The question lands like a stone in my chest. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I thought maybe I’d been avoiding it.
I turn my gaze to Atlas. His face is still, a bandage on his temple, bruises blossoming along his jaw. I thought we had shared love, just a dysfunctional kind where I couldn’t commit because of Leo and Damien, but now I see it was all excuses. Because now when I look at him now, I don’t get that excited butterfly feeling in the pit of my stomach, I just feel . . . sad.
Sad for what we were. For what we could never be.
“I care about him,” I murmur, tracing the line of Atlas’s hand with my eyes. “I always will. He was important to me once, in a way that felt permanent.” I pause, and then I shake my head. “But, no, I don’t love him.”
Tom exhales slowly, and when I glance back at him, there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“That’s good enough for me,” he says simply, standing and pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’ll go grab us something hot to drink. Maybe something sweet. You look like you need both. And I need to call your father and rearrange golf.”
My throat tightens, but not from grief this time. It’s something warmer. Softer. A love with possibilities, a love that doesn’t hurt.
“Tom?”
He turns in the doorway.
“Thank you. For staying.”
He nods. “Always.”
Atlas
The world returns in fragments. A beeping noise. Too loud. Too steady. The hum of fluorescent lights. Voices, low and muffled, like they’re underwater.
Pain finds me next. A dull throb behind my eyes, sharp pressure at my ribs. I try to move and immediately regret it.
“Don’t push him. Let him come to slowly.”
That voice. Female. Familiar.
I blink against the harsh ceiling light and turn my head a fraction towards the sound.
Anita.
She’s here.
I groan softly, and the motion draws her eyes to mine.
“Atlas?” she says gently, her voice thick with relief. She’s beside the bed in a second, her hand gripping mine. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”
Safe.That word doesn’t sit right.
I force my throat to work. “Rue.” My voice is cracked, barely a whisper, but it’s enough to shift the mood in the room. A shadow crosses her face.
Tom is there too, standing back, arms folded, watching with a furrowed brow like he’s ready to step in if I try to rip out my IV and go hunting.
“We found you unconscious in the woods. No sign of Rue.”
I try to sit up but a bolt of pain lances through my side and I grunt, falling back with a curse. “They took her.”
“We know.” Anita squeezes my hand. “Axel’s already got everyone looking. We’ll find her, Atlas.”
“No.” I shake my head, fury bleeding through the fog. “She was terrified. I have to get to her.”
At that, Tom moves closer, his jaw tight. “Relax, you took a good knock to the head.”
My eyes flick between them. “Get me out of this fucking bed.”
