Page 111 of Killer Confections

Atlas sees and shakes his head. “Let’s bring a plate to my mom and we’ll call them together.”

An uneasy feeling circles my gut as I nod. If something were wrong, Rowan would have called, right?

But I can’t shake the feeling. Even when Atlas makes our friends avert their eyes, the embarrassment doesn’t overshadow that lingering tug that something isn’t right.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Atlas

Something definitely isn’t right, and Loxley is catching on. I had my suspicions earlier, but Rowan is being far too careless with whatever he’s doing.

Anyone who knows him would understand that nothing is wrong. Rowan is highly capable of handling anything thrown at him. It’s what makes him such a great leader.

Which is why I’m at least ninety percent surehe’sthe danger and not the South syndicate…

I need some time to work it all out, and bringing Loxley over to mom’s will supply that distraction she needs while I send Rowan a few nicely worded texts.

Me: If you hurt my wife’s best friend, I’ll skin you alive for harming someone dear to her.

Me: Bro, answer your fucking phone!

Me: I will drag my nuts across your face, so help me, Rowan. You better be talking to Jesus Christ and that’s why you haven’t answered me. If you aren’t, you’re gonna fucking meet him.

I turn my phone off, shoving it back into my pocket with more force than needed as we take the cement driveway up to the tiny yellow house. The wooden posts that hold the foundation are painted a bright white and the flower beds out front are full of colorful, vibrant petals.

It looks like something you would see out of a home goods magazine. Perfect. Pristine.Cute.

But the woman who lives here isn’t. It’s all a fucking illusion.

“Hold up,” I call to my wife—I still can’t believe I get to say that—as she steps onto the front porch.

Loxley turns to me, tilting her head.

I sigh, rubbing a hand across my mouth. I’m not good with words and my family has always been a tough subject. It’s hard to discuss my past. Which is why I never did it.

But as I look at the kind and patient woman before me, I know she would take it all in stride. She did it with my father and never judged me. Not even for a second. In fact, I think I heard her mutter ‘good riddance’ under her breath.

“Look, Short Stack,” I begin, only for her to cut me off.

“Is she like him?” She asks softly.

I blink. “Like who?”

“Your dad.”

My chest pinches, and I rub a hand over it as I nod. “Yeah, but she’s a different kind of monster, baby. She’s manipulative. Whatever she says about me…” I take a deep breath. “It’s going to be true, but she’s using it to hurt me. If you feel differently after visiting her, I understand—”

She closes the distance between us before cupping my cheeks, dragging me down to her, and slamming her lips to mine. I hold the plate of food out with one hand before circling the other around her waist and tugging her close to me. Once we’re flush, everything feels right in the world. The nerves of her meeting my last remaining parental figure dissipate and I realize I’ve been anxious over nothing. This is Loxley. My reason for breathing. My everything. She’s far too strong to back out without forming her own opinion, and it was wrong of me to assume she wouldn’t and would just bail.

When she pulls away, she gives me a tender look. “I knowyou, Atlas. Do you have questionable morals? Yes.”

I nod, agreeing with her as my lips twitch.

“Do I agree with what you do for work? Absolutely not.”

I nod again, my smile spreading.

She squeezes my cheeks harder, bringing me so close our noses almost touch. “No matter what your mom says, as long as you don’t have a secret second wife,I don’t care. None of it matters, because it doesn’t defineyou.”