Page 118 of Atlas
Rue studies me for a long moment. The silence feels endless.
“At least you figured it out,” she says at last, voice soft.
I swallow hard. “I regret coming between you. I can see how he looks at you, Rue, like you’re the first true thing he’s ever had. I’d never want to take that from either of you.”
Her shoulders relax a fraction. “Thank you for saying that.”
“I mean it,” I whisper. “Atlas is happier than I’ve ever seen him. And that . . . that’s because of you.”
For the first time since I entered the room, her expression eases into something like peace. She reaches for the water on the nightstand, sips, then sets it down.
“He loves you,” she begins, and when I go to protest, she holds up her hand, silencing me. “As a friend. And I get it, you two have history. I don’t want to come between that friendship either, but you cross that line again, and I’ll make sure you never set foot near him. Okay?”
I bite my lower lip to hide the smile. She’s protecting him and I love that. I nod. “Understood.”
“Are you going to win the custody case?” she asks.
I look to the floor. “Tom seems to think so.”
“And you don’t?”
“I want to have faith,” I admit, “but Damien has so many tricks up his sleeve, I’m scared to believe I can.”
“You have the entire club behind you. Over fifty men and women who are gonna treat Leo like a nephew. You have everything to offer him, and Damien has nothing but aggression and anger. Believe it, Nita. He’s coming home.”
I smile, tears gathering on my lower lash. “Thank you for being so understanding, and for being nice to me.”
The door opens, and Atlas fills it, his eyes narrowing in on me.
“You’re his friend,” says Rue, her eyes going to his, “and so you’re mine too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Atlas
As if I couldn’t love her even more, then she goes and says shit like that. I wait for Anita to leave before crawling over Rue, pinning my hands either side of her thighs and landing a kiss on her lips. “Fuck, what did I do to deserve you?”
“Same,” she murmurs, trying to take the kiss deeper. I pull back and she growls in frustration. “Damn it, Atlas, I won’t break.”
I grin, resting my forehead against hers. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
She laughs, “No?”
“I know how you get when you’re all pent up like this,” I say, my tone teasing. “My ribs are still healing.” I carefully turn onto my back and place my hands behind my head. “I’m delicate.”
She throws her leg over me, placing her hands on my chest and staring down at me. “You just relax,” she says, popping the button on my jeans. “I’ll do all the hard work.”
3 days later . . .
I sit on the cold wooden bench, my shoulders tense as the judge clears her throat. The room’s quiet, thick with anticipation, but Anita doesn’t flinch. She sits straight-backed beside her lawyer, eyes fixed ahead, hands clenched in her lap. There’s something calm in her, like maybe, finally, she believes she deserves to win.
The judge begins to read the evidence aloud, and I glance over at Damien across the aisle. Smug prick hasn’t smirked once since the hearing started.
He damn well knows he’s lost.
“The court acknowledges substantial evidence of neglect on the part of Mr. Carpenter,” the judge says, her voice unwavering. “This includes documented instances of leaving Leo Carpenter, a thirteen-year-old child, under the sole care of a minor, Ms. Kasey Green, on multiple occasions.”
I see Anita’s jaw tighten. She never wanted to drag Kasey into this, but Damien forced her hand. We had to make sure this went her way.
