Page 112 of Atlas
I blink at it, unsure if this is a joke.
“You’ve got five minutes,” he says. “Make it quick.”
He doesn’t move.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Can you . . . turn around or something?”
His grin stretches wide. “Nah. I’m good right here.”
Shame floods my chest, hot and suffocating.
I don’t move.
“I said five minutes,” he snaps, stepping farther inside.
I freeze, heart thudding so hard I can barely hear. Every bone in my body screams not to do this, but my bladder won’t wait.
So, I turn away, shaking, dragging the bucket into the farthest corner, trying to shield myself with my back. My hands tremble as I pull down my jeans.
He laughs behind me. A sharp, ugly laugh that makes my skin crawl.
Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Not when I need every ounce of dignity I’ve got left.
When I’m done, I stand slowly, not turning around. My breath hitches as I whisper, “Are you proud of yourself?”
“There’s no shame in pissing,” the man drawls, lifting the bucket with a greasy grin. “Some freakspayto watch that shit.” His eyes rake over me, slow and revolting. “Hell, I’d let you piss on me.”
I stiffen, jaw clenched, stomach churning.
“What the fuck’s going on?” a voice snaps from the doorway.
The man jumps, spinning on his heel. Damien steps into view, calm but cold.
“Girl needed the bathroom,” the man mumbles, hurrying out with the bucket like a rat escaping a trap.
“Apologies,” Damien says, stepping into the room like he owns the air in it. “The amenities aren’t five-star.” He smirks, tucking his hands into his pockets. “How’s that hope holding up?”
I glare at him. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”
He tilts his head. “Sure, you do.”
“No, I really don’t,” I snap, heat rising in my throat. “I’ve done nothing to you.”
“But you’re connected, Rue.” His voice softens, mockingly gentle. “To Kasey, to Anita, and especially tohim.”
I shake my head, exasperated. “So, what?”
He sighs like I’m being difficult. “Your sister stole from me. Anita’s trying to take my son. And Atlas,” his eyes narrow, “took my wife.”
I freeze. “This is about revenge?”
“No,” he says coolly. “It’s about leverage.” He steps closer. “Anita loves your biker, and if he asks her to back off foryoursafety, she will.”
My heart stutters. “Atlas would never ask her to do that. He’s not like you.”
Damien chuckles. “That’s the problem with men like him. Honourable. Predictable. Easy to manipulate.” His eyes gleam. “So, if he won’t ask her to stand down, well . . . maybe you’ll be less valuable than I thought. And hope?” He leans in, just enough to make me flinch. “Hope fades real fucking fast when no one comes.”
He walks out, slamming the door behind him.
