Page 8 of Atlas (The Chaos Demons MC #6)

Atlas

I’ve spent the last two days elbow-deep in oil, noise, and distraction.

I haven’t checked my phone once. Haven’t walked past her street. Haven’t replayed the look on her face when she shoved me off the pedestal I never even asked to stand on.

She ran.

Not just from me but from the truth.

She ran back to the guy with the flowers.

So, yeah . . . fuck her.

I’m underneath a van when Fury calls my name.

“Someone’s here for Kasey,” he grunts. “Sister. Thought you’d wanna handle it cos Axel ain’t around.”

I slide out from under the car, wipe the grease off my hands, and shove the wrench into the toolbox. “On it.”

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 trying not to 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?”

She shrugs, the motion delicate. “She started calling me that when we were kids. Said I looked like the girl in some film she watched, one with a tragic ending, obviously.”

I huff a laugh. “Sounds about right for your sister.”

“She’s got a flair for the dramatic,” Rue agrees. “Always has.”

A breeze picks up, and she pushes her glasses up her nose again. It’s such a soft, habitual gesture that I find myself watching it like it means something.

“You in school or working?” I ask.

She blinks, surprised. “I teach. Year six. English and art.”

I grin. “Let me guess . . . bookworm.”

Her smile grows, a little bashful. “Guilty. I read everything. It drives Kasey mad.”

“She said something about a sister who never leaves the library,” I murmur. “Didn’t expect her to look like you, though.”

Rue’s eyebrows rise. “Like me?”

“Yeah. Was expecting . . . older. Stricter. Less,” I wave a hand vaguely, “you.”

That earns a laugh. It’s light, genuine, spilling out of her. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.”

I lean back against the wall beside the door, arms crossed. “So, how’d a quiet girl like you end up with a sister knee-deep in biker drama?”

She looks down, her expression softening. “She’s like a magnet for trouble.”

“She get that from your dad?”

“Most likely. Although her mum was the queen of trouble. Before she ran off, that is. She never really bonded with Kasey. I spent my teens raising her the best I could.” She sighs.

“When Dad called to say she’d ran again, only this time he was done with her, I panicked.

He said she was in all kinds of trouble and men were going after her.

Of course, he’s distanced himself. He wouldn’t want to put himself in the firing line.

” She shrugs. “I’m not street-smart, but she is.

I’m more the write-a-letter, call-a-hotline type. ”

“So, you called the club.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did the right thing,” I say. “You trusted the right people.”

She nods slowly, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I’m trying to find out how to get her out of this mess. Dad isn’t returning my calls.”

“She’s safe. No one is coming for her here.”

“But this can’t be forever, right? I’m working on getting some money together so we can leave London, maybe even the UK.”

I don’t like the thought of them out there unprotected. “She’s under our roof now. That means she’s one of ours.”

Rue studies me—not like I’m a threat, but like I’m a puzzle she wants to understand. “You sound like you take that seriously.”

“I do.”

She brushes a loose curl off her cheek and gives me a shy smile. “You’re not what I expected, either.”

“Oh?”

“I thought you’d be scary, dangerous.”

“I am.”

She tilts her head, considering. “Maybe. But there’s more to you, isn’t there?”

I look at her a long moment, and for once, I don’t feel the need to hide it. “Yeah,” I say finally, “there is.”

And right then, Kasey barrels out the door like a hurricane, snapping the spell.

“Ugh, finally,” she groans. “You two having a moment or what?”

Rue rolls her eyes but laughs, and I find myself watching her again, loving the way she lights up around her sister.

Kasey throws her arms around Rue in that clumsy way she hugs, more like a shove with affection hidden inside it. Rue just laughs and hugs her back properly, like she means it.

“You look tired,” Rue says, pulling back slightly.

“You look like a librarian,” Kasey shoots back with a grin. “Glad to see we’re both thriving.”

“You’re an idiot,” Rue mutters affectionately, brushing a thumb over a small scrape on Kasey’s cheek. “You okay?”

Kasey nods, but there’s a flicker of something raw in her eyes. “Getting there.”

She says it so casually, like getting there doesn’t mean recovering from the kind of trauma that leaves marks you can’t see.

I step back a little, ready to give them space, turning towards the clubhouse door.

“Hey,” Rue calls gently, and I glance back. She’s still got one arm looped around Kasey’s shoulder, but her gaze is on me. “You don’t have to go.”

I hesitate.

Kasey smirks, catching the shift in the air between us. “Oh god. Don’t flirt with my sister, please. I’m begging.”

Rue flushes instantly. “I wasn’t.” There’s a softness in her face that wasn’t there when she arrived, like she’s easing into something without even realising it. “Why don’t we walk a bit?” she suggests. “It’s stuffy in there.”

Kasey arches a brow at her. “Wow. First you hug me, and now, you’re going on a romantic stroll with my babysitter?”

“I’m not your babysitter,” I mutter.

“Sure, you’re not, Daddy,” she throws back, and Rue chokes on a laugh.

I shake my head, smirking despite myself. “Come on, before she says something else I can’t unhear.”

Rue falls into step beside me, her arm brushing mine lightly, like she’s still not sure how close is too close.

“You fancy my sister,” Kasey states, walking backwards so her eyes can flit between us.

“I didn’t say anything,” I reply.

“I mean, look at her,” Kasey continues. “What’s not to fancy, right?”

“Jesus, Kase, stop,” hisses Rue, her cheeks burning brightly.

I laugh, enjoying the flow of the conversation. “Right,” I agree.

“Then ask her out,” Kasey pushes.

“Did I tell you she has some kind of autism?” Rue cuts in. “She says things as she sees them. And I’m certain there’s some ADHD there too.”

I give a nod. “I noticed that.”

“Which is why I can see how well you go with my sister, especially over that suited-up posh bird.”

“There’s a posh bird?” asks Rue, her eyes finding mine.

I groan.

“Don’t mention her. He gets really moody,” Kasey warns.

Pit’s two dogs are running free on the field behind the club and Kasey jumps with excitement, rushing towards them.

“I am so sorry about her,” Rue says with a small, shy smile.

“I’m kind of used to her already.”

“She has no tact.”

“Maybe she’s right,” I say, glancing her way to check her expression. She catches me and blushes further. “I mean, if you’d like to grab a drink sometime . . .” Fuck, why do I sound like a pussy?

“Oh, I don’t drink alcohol.”

It’s not a no, so I smile. “Coffee?”

She nods. “I’m a coffee addict.” Then she stuffs her hands in her pockets, watching Kasey roll around with the dogs. “Although, if there’s someone else . . .”

“There isn’t,” I say firmly, the lie falling from my lips too easily.

“That’s settled then.”

Anita

It’s nearly six and the office is silent. Tessa’s long gone for the day, leaving her desk unnervingly neat and my inbox annoyingly full.