Page 36 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

Loxley

I wake with a start, pushing the thick comforter off of me as I bolt upright in the unfamiliar bed. Black sheets and a duvet pool around my waist as I blink my eyes profusely into the afternoon light shining through the window.

The onslaught of memories that flood my mind are like living a nightmare, but one in particular sticks out.

Seeing Atlas’s concerned, soft face as he held me tightly.

If I hadn’t been in so much shock, I would have been breathless at his beauty. He’s rugged, all sharp angles, stubble, and wicked eyes, but the way he was looking at me was like he found salvation. Like he knew he was in deep shit and would have to repent for what he’s done.

Because what the fuck…

The blood, gore, and screams all come rushing back and I close my eyes as my stomach churns unpleasantly. I press my hands to either side of my nose, willing myself to breathe through the nausea.

Think of literally anything else, Loxley .

I release a slow breath, finally opening my eyes and nearly gasping at the quaint, cozy room I’m tucked away in.

The floors are a dark wood, but the walls are painted an eggshell white that makes the paintings and portraits pop against them.

The furniture, two end tables next to the four-poster bed I’m in and a massive wooden dresser are all rustic and look like they were priceless treasures found at an antique shop.

Across from me, there’s a tall window with a sliding glass door that overlooks acres of beautifully kept property with wildflowers and the occasional tree to tie this rural oasis all together.

It’s breathtaking.

It’s something I always imagined myself owning once Sweet Haven got off the ground.

I slowly slide out of bed, looking down when the cool air hits my bare legs.

I’m in a pair of comfortable cotton shorts and a large heavy metal band T-shirt that swallows me.

The scent clinging to it, something deep and masculine that I’ve smelled a lot of over the last week, wafts to me and I deduce it belongs to Atlas.

I let my feet flatten to the hardwood floors, giving myself just a second to gather my senses before standing and stopping in my tracks once again as I spot the picture hanging above the dresser.

It’s slightly blurry, because we were moving too much while I was taking it, but I recognize Atlas and I’s baby faces instantly.

One of my arms is wrapped around his neck while the other holds the camera out in front of us.

We were supposed to press our cheeks together and smile, but I’m leaning over his shoulder as I fuss at him for not looking at the camera.

He wouldn’t look at all and every time I would try to take a picture, he was always staring at me with this soft, tender expression. It flustered the hell out of me, making butterflies swarm my gut…

“He’s kept this all these years…” I run my fingers along the thick black frame that surrounds the memory, my mind running through that day.

It was picture day at school and only my parents had paid for my headshots.

Atlas was left out, stuck on the sidelines as he waited for the multitude of classes to finish.

I hated when he was left out. It made my chest ache and left me feeling sick. I wouldn’t stand for his whole childhood to be erased into nothing, so I took it upon myself for us to have our own photo shoot.

My hand falls from the photo, a torrent of thoughts and emotions grander than I’ve ever felt swarming me like a frenzy. It’s almost too much until I turn and my eyes widen at the next picture resting on the left bedside table in a pretty golden frame.

It’s me. Right after college graduation…

On my balcony in Athens.

It’s obvious I had no idea my photo was being taken. It’s a side shot. My elbows rest on the railing as I stare out at the street, lost in thought. It looks like whoever took it (not naming anyone), was just a few rooms down from me.

My shiver causes my hands to rub up and down my arms as the goosebumps prickle my flesh.

He was there the whole time…

I have no idea what’s going on, but Atlas has a lot of fucking explaining to do.

I set my jaw, brushing my daze away as I pull my shoulders back and walk with purpose out of the bedroom. I step right into an open layout that makes my jaw drop, but I quickly pick it up.

The spacious kitchen full of wide countertops, two large ovens, a metal farmhouse sink that’s so deep you have to lean over it to see the bottom, and a fabulous wide linear chandelier doesn’t give me pause.

Even though my brain screams in delight at it.

The living room with its massive L-couch, beautiful red and yellow rug, and entertainment center that looks aged to perfection doesn’t even get me to stop in my tracks as I stomp toward the back of the cottage style home.

There’s a hallway that leads straight to a garage and I follow the sounds of blaring metal music and tools clanking against metal.

Just as I get to the door, I spot a picture hanging above a coat rack and do a double take at the headshot from my college graduation.

I’m smiling at the camera, diploma in one hand, and my blue robes draped over me.

My hat is a little crooked as I give the camera a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

That was a bittersweet day for me…

I thought about Atlas just before the ceremony and wasn’t present during speeches or receiving my diploma. I was just… there .

I wasn’t in the mood to take pictures, but mom had already booked the photographer for after my ceremony. I plastered on a fake smile and did it regardless of how I was feeling.

The bridge of my nose stings and I feel the tears springing to my eyes as I quickly cover my mouth.

He was there this whole time and never said anything?

When I was so completely heartbroken over him and he couldn’t have the decency to speak to me?

My sadness quickly shifts to anger and I don’t even bother wiping my tear-stained cheeks as I stomp into the four-car garage.

I ignore the beautiful, sleek cars as I spot Atlas next to his motorcycle, a wrench in his hand as he leans over the bike.

He’s in a black muscle shirt, his thick, corded, and tattooed arms bared shamelessly as he glistens with sweat.

His hair falls over into his eyes that shift to me when he hears me in the doorway.

He nearly drops his tool, standing upright as he stares at me with an unsure expression. “How are you feeling—”

“What the fuck is going on, Atlas?” I growl through clenched teeth.

His shoulders droop as he tosses the wrench aside and sighs heavily. “A lot, Short Stack. Too much to discuss right here.”

My arms wrap around my biceps as I hold myself. I’m not sure if I’m trying to comfort myself or hold myself back from harming this man. “So what?” I ask, incredulously. “You want to sit down and chat over fucking tea about what happened in my bakery?”

He rubs a hand across the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Well, I don’t think I have any tea— ”

“Oh, my god!” I moan in distress, running my hands through my hair. “My fucking kitchen ! There was so much blood!”

He walks quickly over to me, reaching for my hands before I shoot him a pointed look and he takes a cautious step back. He stays close, but he doesn’t invade my personal space like he looks like he’s itching to do. “It’s taken care of. It was handled long before Janette’s morning shift.”

My lips thin, and my eyes widen a fraction. “Thank heavens for that,” I snark.

He hangs his head. “I have a lot of explaining to do. Just sit at the kitchen table and I’ll tell you everything, baby.”

I ignore the way my stomach flutters at the endearment and cross my arms. “How can I trust that you’ll tell me the truth?”

“Because I would rather die than hurt you anymore than I already have,” he answers with no hesitation and I suck in a breath.

Now isn’t the time to be kicking my feet and giggling!

I take a step away from him and his head whips up. He looks gutted as I put distance between us and it makes my heart clench painfully. “You killed people, Atlas…” I swallow, trying to banish the haunting memory of last night from my mind. “I don’t even know what to think…”

He shakes his head, looking desperate. “Please, let me explain, Loxley. I’ll tell you everything. No more secrets. Just give me a chance.”

I can’t stomach looking at him when he’s like this. I see that broken boy I met all those years ago and my heart and will turns to goop. I sigh. “No more secrets after this. Do you understand?”

He nods. “Of course, baby. None.”

I walk back into the house, Atlas following closely behind, before he motions to the mahogany table next to the kitchen. “Sit there. I’ll be right back.” As he passed me, he places a quick kiss on my cheek, and I let him, despite my warring feelings.

I ease myself onto the chair, looking around the picture perfect house until he returns from his bedroom and slides into the chair across from me. He looks nervous as he rests his hands on the table and picks at his nail.

“My parents weren’t good people,” he begins quietly. “It’s hard to believe, and I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I was raised by two highly trained assassins.” His eyes shift to me as he waits for my reaction.

Assassins .

It seems so far-fetched, but it explains so much.

The way Atlas and his friend were fighting last night, moving stealthily and quickly as if they were shadows in the night, makes more sense now.

Even though I was terrified out of my mind, I could still recognize they’re highly trained and dangerous.

“Okay…” I say slowly. “So, you were raised as an…”

“Assassin,” he finishes with a nod. “It’s why I always had bruises and cuts. My father trained us with his own hand. If we weren’t quick enough, we got beat. Simple.”

I frown. “That’s not simple, Atlas. That’s child abuse.”

He sighs. “It was my life, Short Stack. Being born in the syndicate before the rule changes didn’t exempt anyone. Before my brother, Rowan, stepped in as the leader, all kids born into the syndicate were forced to train and serve.”

“Syndicate?” I ask.

He motions a hand towards the glass sliding doors.

In the distance, I see a few brick and stucco houses on other properties, but nothing close enough for me to make out.

“The syndicate is a compound of highly trained assassins that take hits for money. We operate completely underground and there are branches everywhere. We’re considered the Midwestern branch and there’s over twenty families living on this compound as of today. ”

My head reels as I blink. “Twenty families?”

“Yes.”

“All of them are…assassins? ”

He makes a side-to-side motion with his hand. “Most are. Some do other jobs like crime-scene clean-up or intel gathering.”

I’m in a compound with highly trained assassins that work as part of a syndicate. There’s other organizations out there. Other branches of this.

Information overload has nothing on me right now. I think I’m drowning.

Atlas leans further across the table, taking my hands in his. “No one here is going to hurt you. I promise.”

I nod deftly, staring at our joined hands. So many emotions and what-ifs flicker through my head, but what filters out of my mouth is so ridiculous I almost laugh. “I’m not even afraid.”

His lips twitch. “I didn’t think you would be. You’ve always been fearless.”

I nod in agreement before pulling my hand back. “I may be fearless, but I’m still not comfortable. I need answers.”

“Ask away, baby.”

“Those men from last night? Who were they? What did they want?”

His expression turns severe and I prepare myself for something bone-chilling.

“When we receive hits, all the other branches do as well. Sometimes we run into other members while trying to collect a bounty, and it’s almost never pretty.

If an assassin kills another assassin, there’s a fee that has to be paid, but sometimes that isn’t enough for the loss of a loved one.

Thalia has been following a high profile hit for over a month now.

She ran into trouble with the South syndicate leader’s wife.

We helped her,” his eyes shift to me as he pauses, “ dispose of the problem. Now Kai Hayes, the leader of the South branch, is out for blood, but he isn’t targeting us.

He’s targeting loved ones. He wants to make us hurt the same way he does now. ”

My blood runs cold as I stare unblinkingly at Atlas with wide eyes .

They’re targeting me .

I’m the target.

I feel bile rise in my throat and gasp, a hand flying to my mouth. Atlas instantly becomes alert, nearly bolting upright from his chair.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“Addie!” I all but sob. “She’s coming back tomorrow!”

Atlas fished his phone out of his pocket before making a quick call and placing it on speaker.

“What?” a deep, agitated tone asks from the other end.

“Addison is on the move tomorrow from New York,” Atlas says. “Can you intercept her, Rowan?”

There’s a deep sigh from the other end before the man answers. “Yes, but you owe me.”

“Thank you!” I call out before the man can hang up.

“Loxley?” Rowan asks. “How are you feeling? Need me to come knock some sense into my brother?”

Atlas rolls his eyes and my lips twitch.

“No,” I answer. “I’m fine. Shaken up and angry, but otherwise I’m okay. Thank you again for helping.”

“It’s no trouble,” he responds. “I’ll let you know once we get back to Ohio.”

He says a quick goodbye and I feel myself relax, knowing Addie will be in safe hands. The last thing I want is for her to end up at my apartment and get attacked by the guys hunting me.

“Your brother seems nice,” I say, trying to break the tension a little.

He grunts. “Wait till you meet Thalia. She’s been dying to see you.”

Thalia .

Beautiful symmetrical features, pale blue eyes, and long black hair flash through my mind.

“She was at the grand opening.”

Atlas looks up, giving me a coy smile. “Yeah. We all were… ”

My mouth falls open. “Why didn’t you say anything?! You’ve been stalking me for years!”

He looks crestfallen as he looks over at my graduation picture in the hallway, a deep longing in his eyes.

“I couldn’t. Not with my dad over the syndicate.

He would have found out about you and used you to control me.

I had to set you free until…” he stops talking as he rubs a hand across his mouth.

“Until what?” I ask cautiously.

His eyes connect with mine, and the air around us goes deathly still. “Until I could kill him.”