Page 37 of Atlas (The Chaos Demons MC #6)

Rue

Damien paces in front of me like a storm about to break. His phone rings again, shrill and relentless, and he hurls it across the room with a roar.

“ Fuckkkk! ” he bellows, raking both hands through his hair like he wants to tear it out. “Those fuckers are pushing me too far! I’ve got every bastard I know calling me, telling me they’ve been looking for me.”

“You underestimated how angry Atlas would be,” I say quietly, my voice just loud enough to cut through his chaos. There’s a tremor there, but I force the words out anyway. “You thought he’d roll over.”

He spins, and the slap comes so fast I don’t see it. My cheek explodes with pain, and I stumble back, crashing to the floor, the back of my skull slamming into concrete. Stars bloom in my vision.

I gasp, fingers brushing the spot. It’s wet. Blood.

Before I can move, Damien lunges. He pins me, his face hovering inches above mine, breath hot and sour with rage. “Or maybe he underestimated me, ” he growls, “and just how far I’ll go to ruin every single person he loves.”

My pulse races. I swallow it down, try to think clearly. “I thought this was about Leo.”

Damien doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he drags his nose slowly along my neck. I go rigid beneath him, my stomach turning.

“I can see why he likes you,” he mutters, voice dark and low.

“Loves me,” I whisper, lifting my chin with whatever defiance I have left.

He smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “But not enough to give up Anita.”

His words sink deep, sharp and cruel. I feel the sting in places I don’t want to admit. I press my lips together, ignore the ache in my chest, and keep my voice cold. “You don’t deserve to keep Leo.”

His eyes flare, and his hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat, not squeezing, but enough to remind me he could.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he growls.

I meet his gaze, unblinking. “I know you’re using Leo to punish Anita. That you’re terrified she’ll win, and that’s why you’re doing this. One day, Leo will see you for what you are. And when he does? He’ll hate you.”

His grip tightens for a second.

Then, slowly, he lets go, standing over me with a sneer. I cough, my lungs burning, but I don’t look away.

“You’d better pray he finds you before I ruin you,” he mutters.

I must’ve drifted off at some point, curled up on the thin mattress, aching and cold, my head throbbing with every shallow breath. My body feels leaden, heavy with fear and fatigue, but something stirs me.

A noise. Distant, sharp. Metal screeching. Voices shouting. Footsteps pounding closer.

I jolt upright, heart hammering, just as the door bursts open.

“ Rue! ” Kasey cries.

She’s there in the doorway, eyes wide, frantic. I blink up at her, disoriented. Is this real?

“Oh my god.” She crosses the room in two strides, dropping to her knees beside me. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” Her hands are trembling as they cup my face. “Come on, we have to go, now. ”

She hauls me up before I can speak, her arm wrapped tight around my waist. I stagger, the pain in my skull making everything spin, but I cling to her and let her pull me towards the corridor.

The hallway is chaos, with broken furniture and smashed glass. There are shouts from outside, boots pounding against concrete.

“Kasey, what’s—” I croak, but she’s already dragging me past a half-open door. I freeze.

Through the crack, I see Atlas. Not the calm, steady man I know.

He’s a storm.

His fists rain down on Damien, over and over, with blood coating his knuckles, his forearms, Damien’s face barely visible beneath the mess. There’s something primal in the way Atlas moves, a rage that looks like it’s been burning for years.

Atlas

I don’t even feel my knuckles anymore.

Just the dull shock of bone hitting bone, the sting of blood, his and mine. Every punch is for Rue. Every blow is for the fear I saw in her eyes as they took her from me, leaving me helpless on the ground.

“You think you can take what’s mine?” I snarl, grabbing Damien by the collar and slamming him back down. “You think using a kid makes you a man?”

He coughs, chokes on blood, and still manages a crooked smile.

I see red. My fist draws back again . . .

And then I feel it, like a shift in the air. I stop cold, the breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I turn my head.

She’s there.

Rue.

Half-lit by the hallway light, standing barefoot and bruised, her hair tangled, her eyes wide with disbelief.

She’s real.

She’s here.

My heart stumbles.

I drop Damien, letting him fall like the scum he is.

All the rage drains from me like a snapped thread. I take a step forward, hand still sticky with blood, but I don’t reach for her. I don’t deserve to, not yet.

Her mouth parts like she wants to say something, but no sound comes.

I’m not even sure I’m breathing.

“Rue . . .” Her name falls from my lips like a prayer.

And then the sound of a choked sob leaves her throat as she stumbles towards me, throwing herself against me. I wrap her in my arms, ignoring the pain in my body as she wraps her legs around me and holds me tight. “You came,” she sobs into my neck.

“I told you I would,” I reply, my voice breaking with emotion.

The door slams behind us, and I hear heavy boots stomp in.

“Jesus Christ, Atlas,” Grizz growls. “Tom said not to leave a visible mark.”

I glance down at the bloodied mess that is Damien, sprawled across the concrete. “Didn’t hear that part,” I lie flatly, still holding Rue like I’ll never let her go again.

Grizz exhales a long breath, muttering something under it, but he doesn’t push.

Rue lifts her head, eyes red-rimmed and glassy. “Take me home,” she whispers.

I nod, already moving towards the door, cradling her like she’s the most precious thing I’ve ever touched.

“To the club,” she adds, softer now, and it guts me.

That one small word— home —it tells me everything. Even after all of this, she still wants to be with me.

Rue stirs, mumbling something in her sleep, and I’m on my feet before I even realise I’ve moved. Pain lances through my ribs. Broken or bruised, I don’t know. I didn’t stay long enough at the hospital to hear the verdict.

She comes first. Always.

She blinks up at me from the bed, her eyes still puffy, her voice barely audible. “What time is it?”

“Early,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”

She tries to sit up, but I place a hand gently on her shoulder, easing her back down.

“Don’t even think about getting up.”

“I need to pee,” she whispers, voice raspy.

I press a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, fine. Bathroom and then straight back. Doctor’s orders.”

“Doctor or biker?” she mumbles with a tired smile.

I grin despite myself. “Same thing.”

I help her to the en-suite, staying outside the door but ready if she needs me. Every movement she makes feels like a stab to the gut, not from pain, though I’ve got plenty of that, but from helplessness. From knowing I couldn’t stop what happened.

When she’s back in bed, I settle the blanket around her and perch on the edge of the mattress, watching her eyes flutter as sleep tries to claim her again.

“You don’t have to hover,” she says softly, eyes closed.

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m okay now.”

“No, you’re not.” I smooth my thumb over the purple bruise on her cheek. “And that’s okay too.”

She goes quiet, and I think she’s drifted off again, but then she whispers, “You didn’t rest either.”

I ignore the comment. “Tessa tried to bring you tea earlier. I sent her away.”

She smiles faintly. “You’re screening my visitors?”

“Damn right I am. You get tired fast. Too fast.” My jaw clenches. “And if one more person tries to hug you or ask you how you feel , I’ll lose what’s left of my mind.”

Her eyes open, meeting mine. “You’re in pain too.”

“So?”

“So, lie down. Next to me. Just for a bit.”

I hesitate. My body’s screaming, but I don’t want to risk jostling her, hurting her by accident.

She sees it in my expression and pats the mattress beside her. “Please, Atlas.”

That’s all it takes.

I lie beside her carefully, and she shifts just enough to press her cheek to my chest, curling into me like she belongs there. And God help me, she does.

I exhale, wincing as pain shoots through my ribs, but it’s worth it just to feel her breathing steady against me.

Her voice is a breath in the dark. “You didn’t stop looking for me.”

“Never.”

“Even when you were hurt.”

I press a kiss to her temple. “Even if I was on my death bed.” Silence falls between us, but it’s the kind that soothes. “I love you,” I add, holding my breath. The light sound of her snores fills the room, and I grin. “Of course, you’re asleep,” I whisper out loud.

Anita

Atlas has gone into full protection mode. No one gets in to see Rue, not without going through him first. So, when Tom suggests pulling him aside to talk about the upcoming hearing, I know exactly what he’s doing.

And I let him.

Because I need this chance.

I’m not even sure if Rue wants to see me. After everything that’s happened, after everything Damien’s done, I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. But I have to try. I need to at least attempt to repair the damage, or I’ll never be able to move forward.

I wait in the bathroom, heart pounding. The second I hear Atlas’s voice agreeing to head to church with Tom, I slip out, moving quickly and quietly into his bedroom.

I close the door behind me, and when I turn, she’s awake.

Rue is staring at me from the bed, pale and still, like she’s not sure if I’m real.

I offer a weak smile, my throat dry. “Hey,” I say gently. “How are you?”

I perch on the edge of the mattress, careful not to jar her. Up close, the bruises on her neck look darker, angrier. Guilt twists in my stomach.

“I’m so sorry you got dragged into all of this,” I say quietly. “Damien . . . the custody fight . . . none of it should’ve touched you.”

Rue’s mouth tugs into the ghost of a smile. “Kasey’s the one who poked the bear, Anita. Don’t take all the credit.”

A breathy laugh slips out of me, surprised and shaky. Then my face sobers. “There’s something else.”

She waits.

“I know I’ve said this all before, but I’ve had time to think it over.

To understand my actions. The night I kissed Atlas .

. . I was a mess. I didn’t even see it then, but I was clinging to him because he felt familiar.

Safe. A habit I couldn’t kick.” I wet my lips, shame burning.

“I told myself it was real, but it wasn’t.

It was me being lost and selfish, and it hurt you. ”

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.”