Page 7 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

Loxley

Eleven Years Ago

“What do you mean, we’re moving?” I ask in disbelief. I look between my mom and dad as they eat their pasta.

“Honey, this was always meant to be temporary,” dad says gently. “We told you this before the move.”

I slam my hands down on the table, startling them. “No! You said it would take at least two years to get everything settled!”

“Loxley!” Mom scolds, her hands stilling. “The whole office is finished. The staff are trained and I’ve handed everything off to Sierra. The typical time frame is two years, but we finished early. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the movers will be here in a week to get the furniture.”

I wither, feeling as if my whole life is crashing down around me. It’s ridiculous considering I left all of my old friends back in New York, but all I can think of is Atlas.

I feel shallow for putting him above the people I’ve known for years, but he’s different. Over the last year, he’s become my rock. He’s my best friend, and I was always silently hoping this day would never come.

I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes, the pain of leaving Atlas behind becoming too much for me to handle.

“Lox, honey, are you okay?” Mom tries to reach a hand out to me, but I stand from the table, pushing my chair over in the process before I race from the room.

I feel as dramatic as any teenage girl when I throw my bedroom door open and slam it behind me. As the tears fall, I sink to my ass, pressing my back against the door.

My sobs wrack me as I cry, the crushing feeling becoming consuming.

This isn’t fair.

We were supposed to have more time…

***

As I walk into school the next day, my chest feels hollow. My eyes are still puffy from all of my crying last night, and I know they’re bloodshot.

Atlas is going to know something is wrong.

I had the bright idea to bring us both coffee this morning, hoping it would serve as an ‘I’m sorry for leaving,’ but now the tumblers in my hands just feel as heavy as my heart does.

As students bustle around me, I search through the crowd, looking for messy black hair. Atlas is easy to spot since he’s grown at least another two inches in the last few months.

He spots me, giving me a breathtaking smile that makes my heart race. But when he notices my eyes, his face falls, a scowl overtaking his features as he pushes through the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his tone hard.

I give an awkward laugh, hoping to ease his mind. Knowing him, he’s thinking the absolute worst. “Not even a good morning? I brought you coffee and—”

“Loxley,” he warns. “I know you. Something is wrong. Did someone hurt you?”

He’s so protective.

I can feel the pounding in my chest and the butterflies swarming in my stomach. Even though I have the worst news possible, I can’t deny the feelings that have grown for my friend. I don’t know if he feels the same, but for the sake of keeping him a friend, I haven’t said anything.

I take a deep breath, attempting to swallow down the emotion clogged in my throat. “I have to tell you something— ”

The bell rings, signaling the beginning of classes. Atlas curses before taking one coffee from my hand and lacing our fingers together.

“Come on,” he commands, pushing through students and serving as a barrier so no one runs into me.

My face heats as my eyes soak in our joined hands. His are rough, large, and calloused, but so warm and comforting. It swallows mine entirely, making my blush travel even further down my chest.

He pulls me into the empty library, walking past the shelves of books until we get to our usual back corner where we sit in the study hall. It’s a cozy spot with a little reading nook, hidden away from the rest of the world.

But today, it doesn’t have its same luster.

He sits me down on one of the plush seats before taking the one beside me. He turns to face me, his brows furrowed with concern as he rests our laced fingers on top of his knee. He reaches his other hand up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before rubbing a thumb over the bags under my eye.

I gasp at the touch, my eyes nearly fluttering. He’s so gentle and I just want to break down.

“Talk to me, Short Stack,” he says softly.

My lip wobbles, the dam breaking as my eyes water. “I’m moving.”

His face falls, the immediate look of disbelief a dagger straight into my heart. He shakes his head. “What? But your mom said it would take two years.”

“She finished early. I leave at the end of this month.” I sob, my whole body shaking.

Long arms wrap around me, pulling me into a chest. Atlas situates me on his lap, running a hand down my hair as he rests his chin on my head.

This is the safest I’ve ever felt, so I let it all loose. The nasty cries filled with snot and pitiful whimpers, the rhetorical questions that I know can’t be answered, and the begging for him to not hate me for leaving .

“I would never hate you,” he says quickly. “We’re going to think of something.”

I almost laugh at that. “There isn’t anything we can do. I have to move with my parents.”

He’s silent for a while, comforting me as I hiccup and wipe my face.

“You can’t leave,” he says quietly. “You’re…” he stops himself, choosing not to say what he was thinking.

Say I’m yours.

Say I can’t go because I’m yours.

But he doesn’t say anything else and we don’t go to class that day. Both of us are marked absent, but neither of us can find it in us to care. We spend the whole day mostly in a sullen silence, mourning the time we won’t get to share.

He doesn’t let me go far. Even when I leave to sneak to the bathroom, he waits outside the door for me, afraid I may disappear.

We made a pact to enjoy our last few weeks together. Atlas even promises me to be there on moving day.

I worry about what his dad may do if he finds out his son broke the rules to skip class and that he’s planning on seeing me off, but it doesn’t seem to bother my friend.

I know that this is all I have left, so I don’t waste our time. I soak him in as much as I can, that bittersweet feeling of getting to know him more, but also leaving soon makes me desperate for anything I can learn.

I take everything he can give.

Praying that in the future, he’ll find me.