Page 5

CHAPTER 4

Atlas

I found myself staring into my closet, trying to decide what to wear. Before leaving the office, Marcus mentioned that The Landing was an upscale nightclub with a strict dress code for men—borderline black tie. The club wanted all the men to look as if they each owned their own yacht. So, there I was, standing in front of my closet, trying to find something appropriate.

After thinking for a while, I decided on black slacks, a black cotton shirt, and a black leather belt. Choosing all-black seemed like the safest option compared to anything else I had in mind. Frankly, I was tempted to just wear what I had on at the office earlier today. I was on the verge of messaging Derek to cancel our plans for tonight.

After getting dressed, I rolled up the cuffs of my shirt to the elbow and checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror. My hair was a little messy from the day, so I took out some pomade from the vanity drawer, rubbed a little on my hands, and styled my hair. I used the remaining pomade on the sides of my head to smooth down any loose strands.

I heard a couple of loud knocks and walked across my apartment to answer the door. Derek was standing there, looking sharp in his dark navy—almost black—suit. Aside from the curls on top, his hair was styled similarly to mine. His dark stubble was neat along his jaw.

He was a handsome man, and it always surprised me that he never found a woman to settle down with. Derek and I weren’t really the type to just fuck around with any woman we came across. Of course, we entertained women occasionally, but we were always looking for the right one.

Our soulmate.

I’m pretty sure he came close to finding her back in DC but then stopped searching when he knew he was going to relocate to Minnesota.

Derek let out a low whistle and raised his brow. “Lookin’ sharp, my friend. Are you ready for tonight?” Yes and no . I was looking forward to going out and drinking with the guys. What I wasn’t looking for was being around prissy, entitled women who expected us to have seven-figure bank accounts.

“Is anyone ever ready to party with Marcus and Dean?” I stepped back, allowing him to enter the unit. I already knew that those two were going to be a bit much tonight. They are party boys through and through. I didn’t need to know them longer than the day to figure that out .

“Fair point. At least you got me tonight, too.” He chuckled. Changing the subject, I needed to get his input on the case we were assigned today, and I wanted to discuss it with him now rather than at the nightclub. I doubted we could have a meaningful conversation there due to the loud music.

“Did you go over the file Conrad gave us today?” I asked as he walked past me and into the kitchen.

“A little; I didn’t get past the profiles of the three suspects.” He shrugged and rested a palm on the counter.

“And what do you think of the profiles?”

“Honestly, they are pretty bare for information, and those photos don’t help us at all. I don’t know where to even begin with this case. These women know exactly what they are doing,” he said, blowing out a long breath. “They’re professionals in their craft, that’s for sure.”

He wasn’t wrong; with our limited information, there wasn’t much direction as to where we should—could—start. Moreover, their professionalism was evident as they knew how to be and remain anonymous.

“I got the same impression. I am just trying to figure out how we will even begin attempting to find them. Where did they even come from?”

“Who knows,” Derek shrugged. “They just appeared out of nowhere several months ago, but word around the Agency is that they’ve been around way longer—years even. They just haven’t been as aggressive with any of their work until now. ”

“You think this whole Roman Atwater thing is more than Conrad is leading on?” I asked.

“Could be; your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that if they sent for you to be transferred here to our Unit—it’s a big deal.”

“It just doesn't sit right with me that someone would go after a corrupt pharmaceutical entrepreneur without any clear motive.” I scratched the back of my neck, trying to wrap my head around all of this. The biggest problem in this whole case is the motive, and there isn’t one. How could there be no motive?

“You think there is a motive to be found?” He tilted his head in question.

“There has to be; you don’t just go around brutally killing lab technicians for no reason.”

“If it is motive you are looking for, then I think we need to start with looking back on Atwater’s history and get more information on this drug of his.”

I hummed and nodded my head, thinking deeper about the case and what the actual reasoning could be behind the aggressive violence.

I moved to the table by the door and grabbed my wallet, stuffing it into my slacks. Derek pulled his phone out of his jacket and unlocked it, responding to a message he had just received .

“Dean just messaged me; he and Marcus are already on their way to the club. They will meet us at the doors to get us in.”

“It truly is that exclusive of a club, huh? I suppose we should get going then. Wouldn’t want to keep the bro squad waiting.” I chuckled and picked up my keys, following Derek out the door and shutting it behind me.

The Landing was unremarkable from the outside. It looked like any other oversized cement building in the city. The tall black-tinted windows reached from ground level to chest height and stretched up to the roof of the building. The double doors were black with gold trim and gold handles shaped like airplanes—presumably where the name comes from.

Two security bouncers, wearing earpieces, stood on either side of the double doors while a third manned the growing line of people attempting to gain access to the club.

Marcus and Dean were exactly where they had indicated, standing one step below the doors next to the third security guard. They gestured for us to approach them.

“These two are our guests, my good man,” Marcus said to the bouncer and patted him on the back of his shoulder as if they were buddies. The security guard mumbled something under his breath and crossed their names off the guest list attached to the clipboard he was holding.

He waved a hand without another word, and the four of us proceeded into the club. I'm not sure how these two ended up on the guest list for this exclusive place, and I wasn't about to ask.

The interior was all black, with the lights from the DJ booth standing out as they cut across the room to the music. The main floor had a sunken dance floor with a two-step drop leading into it. At the rear of the dance floor was the primary bar. On the opposite side of the dance floor from the bar, there were stairs that led to the upper level, where the VIP suites were situated, lining the entire balcony.

The VIP Suites had a prime view of the entire dance floor, surrounding it on all sides. Already, most of them were filled with guests ordering bottles upon bottles of alcohol, and the waitresses were bringing them out one at a time with sparklers to elevate the overall experience.

“I hope you are ready for the best night of your lives, gentlemen,” Marcus said with an amused tone as he rubbed his hands together before reaching over the shoulders of Derek and me, pulling us into a rough hug. Derek grimaced and quickly pulled himself out of Marcus’s grasp, straightening his jacket and scanning our surroundings.

When we left the apartment, I decided to let go for once and enjoy myself. I smiled at Marcus, patted him on the back, and gestured to the crowded bar.

“Shall we then?”

“We shall!” Marcus enthusiastically echoed and took the lead, heading straight for the bar. We managed to find a single spot to squeeze in between a couple making out and the section reserved for waitresses to order drinks for the VIP suite guests. Three bartenders were working in separate sections, one man and two women .

The woman closest to us immediately caught my attention. I found myself unable to take my eyes off her as she made her way down her section, pouring drinks for her customers with a little flair. My gaze couldn't help but roam up and down her body, taking in her thigh-high black boots and a tight dress that hugged every curve. She had beautiful brunette hair gathered at the top of her head, with wavy tendrils falling over her face.

Suddenly, I was all too happy to be at this particular nightclub tonight.

Every now and then, she would spin a bottle around her palm before pouring it or throw it in the air and catch it behind her back as she returned it to the rail—her movements fluid and precise. I’ve been with many women in the past, but none of them have ever captured my attention the way she does. I couldn’t help but feel the pull that I felt towards her.

Growing impatient with how long it was taking us to order drinks, Dean pulled himself up onto the bar and gave a loud whistle at her. I’m pretty sure no woman appreciates being whistled at like a dog, but telling him that was a little late.

“Sweetheart, over here!” He yelled across the bar.

She shifted her gaze to us, giving Dean a stern glare, clearly annoyed at how he got her attention. She bit her cheek in complete annoyance and walked over to us.

“This bar is extremely busy, and I am all out of patience tonight; what’ll it be, boys?” She stood in front of us, pressing her palm on the edge of the bar, the other on her hip. She continued to give Dean an irritated look .

I admired her "take no shit" attitude towards him. Most women would overlook his actions to please the customer, but not her. My interest in her continued to grow, and I couldn't help but want to get to know her more.

“Give us four Scooby Snacks and four Coors, sweetheart,” Dean ordered.

“Absolutely not. What are you? Sixteen? I’m not making you that shit.” She scoffed and turned abruptly, walking away from us. I couldn’t help but chuckle at how she handled Dean. I was impressed with her, to say the least. She returned with four shots that were a murky yellow color and our beers.

“Here, you’ll thank me later.” She pushed the four shots towards us, then popped the caps off the beers and set them behind the glasses.

Hesitantly, we looked at each other and then tipped back the shots. It was a strong shot that was sweet and had a peach aftertaste to it. Marcus let out a choking sound and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand; Derek chuckled at him, setting his empty glass down next to mine.

“What the hell was that?” Marcus took a pull from his beer as a chaser for his shot.

“A water moccasin. Enjoy your night, boys.” Giving a saccharine smile, she slapped her hand on the counter and winked at us before moving to help other patrons along the bar.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, and my gaze followed her back down the bar. Everything about her was perfect, and what I liked best was her attitude. I love a woman who takes charge, knows what she likes, and doesn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thinks. I knew I had to have her for myself. Marcus was still trying to pull himself together when a waitress standing beside us started laughing.

“Looks like she treated you boys to her favorite shot.” She set her tray down on the counter and placed a hand on her hip. She was dressed like the bartender and had long white blonde hair. She was undeniably beautiful, but my attention was still fixated on the bartender.

“That’s her favorite?” Marcus turned to her with an incredulous look.

She nodded and laughed again.

“That’s what I said. Take it as a sign that she likes you, even if you—” she gestured her head towards Dean. “annoyed her.” So, she overheard the entire conversation between Dean and the bartender. She must have been standing there longer than I initially thought. I wondered how close they were if she knew her favorite shot. Maybe I could gather some information that will help me get her attention.

“And what about you, babe? Do you like us?” Marcus gave her a grin and leaned on the bar facing her. Derek elbowed me, and I couldn’t help but shake my head with a smirk. These two were either seriously overdoing it tonight, or they were just complete womanizers. I could see why Derek wasn’t interested in hanging out with them. She laughed in response to his attempt at a pick-up line and picked up her tray of drinks .

“I don’t even know you, babe , but—” she clicked her tongue, looking him up and down. “Find me later, and we can see just how much I like you.” With a wink, she strolled across the floor to the stairs for the VIP Suites.

That shit actually worked?

Marcus’s gaze followed her ass as she sauntered up the stairs and disappeared into the crowd of the upper level.

“I’m getting myself a piece of that before the night is over.” He released a low whistle and turned back to us, grabbing his beer from the bar. I couldn’t help but look back at the bartender as I picked up my own beer, catching a last glimpse at her and then following the guys to the railing alongside the dance floor.

If I was getting anything tonight, it was going to be her.

I wasn’t about to let anyone else take her home.

The nightclub was hot and overly crowded, and the air conditioning couldn't keep up with the bodies in the building. After a few hours of drinking, catching up with Derek, and watching Marcus and Dean flirt with various women, I gestured to Derek, indicating that I was going outside to cool off. He gave me a nod, and I left the group.

Six months may not seem like a long time, but it was enough to give us plenty to talk about. Back in DC, we used to go out for drinks after work at least twice a week. It wasn't always to pick up women but to have a good time together. We were best friends, and we still are.

As I made my way around the dance floor, I noticed the emergency exit sign at the far back of the building. Just as I turned the corner, I accidentally bumped into the waitress Marcus was hitting on when we arrived.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.” I caught her elbow before she dropped her tray of empty glasses on the floor.

“All good; you wouldn’t be the first person to knock me over tonight.” She chuckled and straightened herself. I let go of her elbow once she was stable with her tray.

“Yeah, I can see how that would be common in a place as packed as this.” She flicked a couple of beads of alcohol off her dress that must have spilled on her when her tray tipped. Then, she looked up at me. She snapped her fingers as if an idea had clicked in her head and pointed at me.

“Hey, weren’t you the guy eye-fucking my friend at the bar earlier?”

“I—what?” Good to know they were friends, bad to know that my “eye-fucking” was that obvious, and she caught it. It made me wonder if the bartender also noticed or if she already told her about it. As long as she was interested in me as much as I was with her, I didn’t really care if she noticed or not.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I saw you at the bar, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.” Her tone was full of amusement, and she propped her tray on her shoulder to better support the weight while we talked .

“She’s attractive, I’m not going to lie about that, but I doubt she’d be interested in someone like me.” I shrug slightly, trying to act like it was no big deal. Women like her always saw me as the nice guy—the good guy. It made it hard to get the women I wanted because they were too busy looking for the bad boys that would bend them over and fuck them until they saw black.

I wanted a woman that was my equal, one that could own me as much as I could own her. I wanted someone worth chasing. The waitress’s eyes roved my body before she clicked her tongue and gave me a devilish smirk.

“Give me your phone.” She demanded and held out her hand.

“What?” I am pretty sure she got the wrong idea from our discussion. I was not interested in her; I was only interested in her friend.

“Give me your phone; I’m going to do you a favor.” She gestured her hand again with a little more attitude.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude. You’re attractive, but I’m—”

“Oh please,” she cut me off. “I’m going to give you her number, not mine.” Rolling her eyes, she wiggled her fingers impatiently, biting down on the inside of her cheek. “Now, are you going to give me your phone or not?”

I thought about it briefly, then decided to hell with it. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and placed it in her hand. She entered the bartender’s number into my phone under the name Chaser .

Interesting …

I wondered if there was a reason why she didn’t put in her actual name.

“Don’t make me regret this.” She pointed at me with my phone, then dropped it back in my hand and moved to leave me where I stood. I shook my head at the interaction with the waitress as a whole and stared down at the new contact in my phone, snapping my head up to quickly yell back at her before she disappeared completely.

“Hey, what’s—”

“It’s a play on words; you’ll figure it out.” She gave a smug grin over the shoulder as she faded into the crowd. She was making this a game, and I hoped it would be in my favor. I stood there for a moment, just thinking about the name and what it could possibly mean. Chaser. Chaser.

She wanted me to chase her friend, and that was something I was more than willing to do. Now that I had her phone number, there was really nothing stopping me from chasing her and claiming her as mine. I had every intention of making her mine from the moment I saw her pouring drinks.

The emergency exit door was already propped open slightly with a rock, so I assumed that I wouldn’t set off any alarm as I pushed through the door and stepped out into the back alley. I moved a couple of feet from the door, away from the light above it, and closer to the shadows.

I leaned my back against the wall and let the light sprinkling of rain cool me down. It wasn’t raining when we arrived, but it must have started shortly after because the ground was covered in dark puddles from a downpour.

I could smell a cigarette burning near me, and a billow of smoke trailed out from the shadows.

“Classy friends you have in there.” A familiar voice came from the direction of the smoke.

“Derek is my friend; the other two are just my coworkers.” I chuckled, holding up my hands in submission. She stepped out of the shadows, her skin wet and glistening from the rain.

Goddamn , she was gorgeous, and the look of her right now caused my cock to harden with desire. I could feel my blood heating. If she would let me, I would take her right now in this back alley.

“For your sake, I hope the rude one wasn’t Derek.” Lifting her head to face me, her eyes met mine. They were a beautiful hazel color, with a defining dark ring around the outer edge that made them breathtaking, and I found myself getting lost in them.

“He wasn’t, but I’m not interested in talking about either of them with you. Do you mind?” I gestured my chin to her hand with the cigarette.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” She crooned, taking another drag from it.

“I’m Atlas. There, now we aren’t strangers.” I took the cigarette from her hand and brought it to my lips, taking a drag of my own, then blowing out a plume of smoke. “But if I’m being honest, you could have pulled up in a white van with no windows, and I’d still take whatever you were offering. ”

I placed the cigarette back between her fingers, and she gawked at me, frozen in place. I couldn’t tell if she was shocked or upset at what I had just done. Her mouth opened and closed as if she was going to say something but then changed her mind. I couldn’t help but suppress a smug smile. I had her right where I wanted her.

“I knew I had a good name, but I didn’t think it would render you speechless.”

“It’s not that impressive of a name. How about you tell me what you are doing here?”

“The nightclub, the city, or in front of you?” I raised a dark brow at her in question.

“The nightclub.” She answered, and with a shrug, she added, “And the city, too, I suppose.”

“I’m at this club for a fun night out with the guys and in this city for a new job,” I answered.

“A new job?” She echoed.

“A new job.” I echoed back.

“Are you going to tell me what you do for work or just repeat me like a parrot?” She huffed, leaning her shoulder against the wall, not breaking her eye contact with me. I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely curious or just trying to make small talk to avoid going back inside. I was hoping it was the latter of the two. She was fun to rile up with her attitude.

Grazing my thumb across my lower lip, I crossed my arms over my chest, turning my body to face her and resting my own shoulder against the wall .

“Odd jobs here and there.” I shrugged. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not a complete lie either. I wasn’t sure what she would think of me if I told her outright that I worked for the CIA. I might tell her later, but I want to see where this went first.

“Interesting. Seeing as you just moved here, can I assume you are single? Or is the girlfriend at home?” She tilted her head inquisitively and bit her bottom lip, glancing down at my hands as if she were looking for a ring.

“I’m one hundred percent single.” I tilted my head and dragged my gaze down her wet chest, taking in the view of her perfect breasts. She had curves in all the right places and an athletic and toned figure. Her tiny black dress left little to the imagination.

I could feel my cock getting harder the longer my eyes lingered on her. It’s been a while since I had a good fuck, and she had me at full attention.

For a moment, we just stood there, studying each other, our gazes roving from head to toe. I had every intention of ruining her. She was mine.

I could smell her heady scent of warm vanilla and sandalwood as it caressed my senses. I wanted to bury my face in the crook of her neck, to inhale her deeper.

Our interaction was abruptly interrupted by a shrill voice from behind.

“Stella, where the fu—” A woman yelled as she opened the back door and stopped when she saw us. “Oh. Excuse me.” She cleared her throat. It was the other bartender, and she looked between the two of us in disgust. Stella looked over my shoulder at the woman and gave a smug smirk.

“Let’s continue this conversation— later .” There was a hint of amusement in her voice as she flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and extinguished it with her boot. She pushed off the wall and moved to the door, holding it open as the other women retreated back inside.

“Come to my section in about an hour.” With a wink, she stepped through the door and disappeared into the club. I stood outside a little longer, trying to collect myself. I can’t recall the last time a woman had me this wound up and craving them.

She smelled like the sweetest drug, and I was already addicted.