Page 24 of Atlas (The Chaos Demons MC #6)

“I didn’t mean to complicate things,” she says softly, voice edged with something that sounds like regret.

I huff out a bitter laugh. “Too late for that.”

She doesn’t speak, and neither do I. The silence stretches, heavy.

“I told Rue I was doing club business,” I mutter, more to myself than her. “Didn’t even hesitate.”

Anita folds her arms. “You’re not a bad person, Atlas. We have history.”

I look at her. She’s still the same Anita I once knew, with a fire in her spine, but soft in ways she pretends not to be. And for a second, I wish we were back in that old world, where loving her didn’t feel like betrayal.

But we’re not.

And I don’t love her the way I used to.

I love Rue .

I swallow the bitter taste rising in my throat and take a step back. “I can’t do this again.”

Her lips part like she wants to argue, but she nods instead. Slow, accepting, like maybe part of her already knew I’d walk away the second I came to my senses.

Tom reappears, sliding his phone into his blazer pocket. “Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes flitting between us.

I nod and head for the door, my mind already ten steps ahead. I have to see Rue and tell her the truth.

The second the door opens, I know I’m fucked.

Rue stands there barefoot, arms folded tight across her chest like she’s bracing for a storm. Except she is the storm, with her thunderous silence and eyes lit with rage. Her expression is blank, but it’s the kind of blank that screams.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t even move aside to let me in.

“Hey,” I offer quietly, hands shoved deep in my jacket pockets. “Can we talk?”

She stares at me for a long second, then steps back just enough to let me through. I enter the flat taking a few deep breaths to calm the noise in my head.

She closes the door behind us, then leans against it like she needs it to hold her up and folds her arms over her chest.

“I lied,” I mutter, avoiding her eye. “Just now, when I dropped you off.”

“I know,” she says bluntly, and my head snaps up. “I heard the call,” she adds, “from Anita.”

I inwardly groan. Fuck . The helmet must have connected. “Shit, Rue, I’m sorry,” I rush out. Her expression stays stoney, her arms still tight over her chest. Uninviting. “I didn’t know you could hear us.”

“I gathered,” she says, her voice full of sarcasm.

I shift uncomfortably under the weight of the situation. I don’t know how to navigate this, how to make it right. It’s not something I’ve had to face before. “I shouldn’t have lied about it.”

“But you did, so . . .” She shrugs. “You can’t change it now.”

I shrug feebly. “She needed me.”

“Why didn’t she call a friend? Or the police? Or literally anyone else?” Rue snaps. “Why you?”

“Because I’ve always been the one she calls when shit goes wrong,” I say, my voice low, almost ashamed. “She was scared. Anthony had trashed her place. She needed me.”

“And you couldn’t just tell me that? You had to lie and pass it off as some club bullshit because you knew I couldn’t question that.”

“I fucked up.”

“What else?” she asks, and our eyes meet again. “Well, there is something else, right?” I hesitate, my mind racing to create another lie, even though deep down, I know I should tell her the truth. “Just be honest, Atlas. Please .”

Her tone punches me in the chest. Pleading. Begging. “I didn’t go through with it,” I whisper, my eyes back on the floor.

Her breath catches in a soft, pained inhale like something inside her cracks, but she doesn’t cry. She doesn’t break. She just stands there, rigid, barely blinking. “You sound like every man I’ve ever known,” she mutters. “You stink of lies and secrets and . . . guilt.”

“Because I’m not good at this,” I cry. “I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Really?” she demands, arching a brow. “Because you’re really good at the lying part.”

“Rue, please,” I whisper, my voice strained because of the lump clogging my throat. “I’m sorry.”

“For what exactly?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.

My fingers itch the tuck her stray hair behind her ear as it falls around her face.

“She kissed me. Again . And I let her. Again.” I take a breath.

“She took off her dress, almost .” My head falls back, and I stare at the ceiling, hating the words as they leave my mouth.

“And we nearly . . .” I bring my eyes to hers and almost crumble from the pain I see there. “But I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

“Your words mean nothing,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around herself again. “I don’t know what’s the truth and what’s a lie anymore.”

“I haven’t had sex with her, Rue. It’s you. Only you.”

Rue

I stare at him in disbelief.

“It wasn’t me an hour ago, Atlas. It wasn’t me when you lied so easily so you could rush to be with her. Stop lying to yourself.” I pause before adding, “And to me.”

“I’m not a cheat,” he mutters.

“You kissed your ex,” I suddenly yell, taking us both by surprise. “Twice. She was practically naked in front of you, and what? You expect me to believe you didn’t touch her, trail kisses down her body.” My voice breaks with emotion. “You are a cheat, Atlas. You’re just shit at covering it up.”

“You don’t curse,” he mutters, frowning and I almost laugh at his words.

“That’s your concern?” I ask on a cold laugh. “You’re no different,” I add. “From my dad, from all the men that hurt my mum. And I refuse to be second best to your ex.”

He shakes his head, his frown cutting deep on his forehead. “Baby, you’re not second best. I want you. I need you.”

I pull the door open. “You should leave now.”

“Rue, please don’t do this. I’ll make it up to you.”

“No.” It’s firm and clear as I stare past him. “I’ll make arrangements for Kasey,” I add. “She’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

“That’s not what I want,” he mutters, stepping closer to me.

I move back from his reach. “There’s nothing else to say,” I mutter. “Just go now.”

He steps over the threshold and turns to speak, but I slam the door in his face, twisting the key in the lock and resting my forehead against it. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

My phone rings out and I snatch it off the table, thinking it’ll be him calling from outside. Instead, it’s Kasey’s name I see on the screen.

“Hi,” I say, forcing the sadness from my voice. “How are you?”

“Bad,” she says. “Very, very bad.”

“Oh?” I peek out the window to see Atlas mounting his bike. He places his helmet on and grips the handlebars, his head lowered like he’s contemplating if he should leave or stay. “What’s happened?”

“I just heard something I shouldn’t have. And I want to tell you, but I’m scared it’ll hurt you.”

“If it’s about Atlas, I know.”

She’s silent for a long minute. “What do you know?”

“That he’s a liar and a cheat,” I spit angrily. “That he almost had sex with Anita.”

Silence again. “That mother fucker,” she suddenly yells, and I pull the phone from my ear.

“Wait, that wasn’t the thing you over-heard?”

“No,” she cries. “Where is he, I’ll kill him.”

I groan. “Don’t. He isn’t worth it. What did you over-hear?”

“Axel got a trace on Mr. D. Turns out he has connections that are close to the club.”

“Really? So they know him?”

“Not exactly. His name is Damien Carpenter. And he’s got a kid with Anita.”

I process the words. “Atlas’s ex, Anita?”

“The one and only.”