Page 26 of Atlas
When I step into the main room, she’s standing near the bar, looking wildly out of place. Not because she doesn’t belong, but because she’s so clearly tryingnotto be noticed.
She’s dressed in skinny jeans, a navy cardigan, and there’s a satchel hanging from her shoulder like she just stepped out of a bookshop. Her hair is in some kind of bun with dark curls escaping like they gave up trying to behave. Her glasses slide down her nose as she nervously tucks a strand behind her ear.
She’s not Anita. She’s not anything like Anita.
And I can’t stop staring.
She spots me and straightens, hitching the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder.
“You’re Atlas?” she asks, voice soft but steady.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Rue. Kasey’s sister.”
She offers her hand. Not the flirty kind but a proper handshake, like I’m a business partner and not a biker who once buried a body in the woods. The gesture brings a smile to my face.
I take it.
Her hand’s small. Warm. She holds my gaze even though I can see she’s intimidated.
“Thanks,” she says. “For everything you’ve done. I didn’t think anyone would get to her in time, but she told me what happened. That you didn’t leave her side.”
“She needed someone,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Did what I was asked to do.”
Her eyes shine a little. “Still. You didn’t have to be so kind.”
Kind.
That’s not a word I hear often. Especially not from women. Especially not when my knuckles are still stained with blood from being exactly the opposite.
She glances around the room, uncertain. “She said this place was loud.”
I smirk. “That’s putting it lightly. You want to wait outside? The prospect has gone to find her.”
“Is that okay?” she asks, relief in her voice. “I think I’d just get in the way in here.”
She steps towards the front door, and I fall into step beside her, holding it open.
Once we’re outside, she turns towards the sun, tipping her face back slightly like she’s enjoying the warmth on her skin. I watch her more intently than I should.
“She doing okay?” she asks after a beat. “Really?”
I nod. “Better than when I found her. She's mouthy but strong.”
“She always has been,” Rue says softly, a smile playing at her lips. “Even when everything else fell apart.”
I’m too lost in her to hear whatever she says next. She’s not dressed to impress. No heels, no perfume, no plumped lips or power moves. But she glows, quiet, grateful,grounded.
The complete opposite of what I’m used to.
And for the first time in days, I don’t think about Anita. Because this woman in front of me, this sweet, geeky, graceful girl, is something else entirely.
“Rue,” I say, testing her name again. It fits her. “That short for something?”
She glances up, smiling slightly. “Ruby. But no one calls me that. Not even Kasey.”
“Why Rue, then?”
