Page 8 of Killer Confections (Syndicate Killers #1)

Atlas

Eleven Years Ago

“We have to be quick,” Rowan whispers as he slowly shuts the bedroom window.

School’s out and my siblings and I are home for the summer now. Dad is on a mission, but mom is around. She’s no less of a threat than him, but Rowan has become an expert at sneaking out without getting caught.

“She lives thirty minutes away,” I say, sounding frantic. “Do you think we’ll make it?”

My brother hops down from the roof, his landing silent. He gives me a smirk. “Oh, yeah. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

I roll my eyes as we race down the gravel road, scanning for the blue car Rowan’s friend drives.

I spot it at a crossroad up ahead, picking up pace and throwing the back passenger side door open. The smell of smoke wafts from the interior, but I ignore it as I slide into the seat.

“What’s up?” A girl with bright red lips and blue hair asks from the driver’s seat.

Rowan ducks in, slamming his door before leaning over the console and kissing her quickly.

“Some friend,” I mutter.

He shoots me a smirk, his friend’s lipstick smeared on his lips. “I could say the same for you. This is Harley, my girl. ”

She gives me a cordial smile in the rearview mirror. “Nice to finally meet you, Atlas.”

“Nice to finally know you exist,” I say in return.

She laughs before pulling the car out of the compound. As we get further away, I feel myself relax, but that doesn’t change the ache inside of me that’s grown with every passing day since Loxley told me she was leaving.

I tried so hard to prevent her parents from taking her away.

Rowan and I broke into her mom’s firm last week after we cut the security camera’s feed.

We trashed the whole office—destroyed computers, started a fire in one of the trash cans and burned important files, and even vandalized the property.

I was satisfied with our work, but Mrs. Bennett wasn’t having it. It was like she snapped her fingers and everything was normal again. She filed a police report, but it didn’t do any good since there was nothing on the cameras.

She had backups of everything we had burned and bought all new computers for the office the very next day. She hired a crew to fix any damages and started a case with the firm’s insurance to have everything covered for her move.

It was fucking infuriating.

Impressive, but infuriating.

Now, this is it. Loxley is leaving…

But she shouldn’t be. She’s mine .

The obsession I’ve harbored for my friend is all-consuming.

I don’t eat, breathe, or sleep without thinking of her.

I think of her real laugh, not the one she uses to be polite, but the one that makes her sound like a hyena with little snorts mixed in.

I think of her love for baking and how awed I was to see her expertly ice a cake a few months ago in Home Ec.

She has a real talent, and I told her every chance I got, encouraging her to pursue her dream.

I think of her excitement when she explains things she’s passionate about, her voice rising with every new detail as if she can’t speak fast enough.

I think of her rosy freckled cheeks anytime I compliment her.

The way her round doe eyes soften when they see me.

I think of her plump dusky lips, every time I could have kissed her, and how that’s the only thing I’ve thought about over the last few days.

I have to kiss her.

I can’t live without knowing what she feels like on my lips.

It’s only temporary.

I’ve come to a realization over the last month. I’m not letting her go. It’s going to take some time, years even, but Rowan has a plan. I just have to follow his lead until the moment is right.

I never wanted to introduce Loxley to the world I live in. I wanted to protect her innocence, but Rowan claims there’s a way to do that. I have to be patient and let him work. When the time is right, everything will fall into place.

As we pull into Loxley’s neighborhood, my heart pounds. I scan the houses, looking for the brick home with the 145 address on the mailbox.

“There it is,” Harley says, but I’m already opening my door. She hasn’t even stopped the car yet, but it doesn’t matter.

The big moving truck is parked outside, men in uniforms carrying out packed boxes of belongings from the open front door. I spot Loxley’s dad just through the entrance, but duck off into the backyard. I open the wooden fence, stepping onto a cement porch.

Loxley sits on the edge, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. She perks up when she hears me, her head turning. Her eyes light up and I could melt where I stand.

“You made it,” she breathes.

I walk over to her, plopping down beside her. “I did.”

She rests her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she says quietly, her voice sounding hoarse.

I swallow the emotion in my throat. “I’m going to miss you too, Short Stack. ”

Until I come and scoop you up in a few years.

She tilts her head up, and my eyes flicker to her lips. I raise a hand to her face, cupping a cheek before I lean down and close the distance between us.

She gasps against my lips before softening under my touch. Her mouth molds to mine and the taste of peppermint and vanilla dance across my tongue. It’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced, and I deepen the kiss, guiding her mouth against mine as I slowly run my tongue along the seam.

It’s sensual and timid, but we’ve both never done this. We’re learning together.

She opens her mouth for me, a breathless little sound leaving her as our tongues finally meet.

I can’t get enough.

I want so much more.

I want to hear more of her sounds and feel her warmth. I want to hold her, cherish her, the way I should have been doing this last year.

I want it all.

I want to consume her, but this is all we can have for now.

When we pull away, I rest my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling as I cup her cheeks. She stares into my eyes, her cheeks flushed and her look dazed.

“I need you to listen to me, Loxley,” I swallow, my voice rough. She shivers, nodding. “You’re mine, okay? No matter what happens, you belong to me and I’ll be back for you.”

Her eyes flutter as she nods again.

“No, Short Stack. I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours,” she whispers, sounding as desperate as I feel.

“Good,” I praise, kissing her heated cheek. “Always remember that. I don’t know how long it’s going to take, but you’re not leaving me.”

Her brow furrows, “How long what will take?”

I press another deep kiss to her lips, savoring what I can before pulling away. “Don’t worry about it and don’t forget me.”

“I would never,” she shakes her head.

A man yells for Loxley from inside the house and she gives me one last pleading look. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know,” I comfort her, pulling her into my arms one last time. “Anytime you bake, think of me.”

“Always,” she sobs.

We finally pull away and it feels like my heart is breaking more and more with every step she takes. My future is fading right before my eyes, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Not right now.

She gives me one last look. So much heartbreak and grief etched on her usually sunny features. I feel my soul pang in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

She pushes the door open and steps into the house and out of my life. Around me, the birds are chirping and the sun is shining, but she took all the joy and light with her.

She was my light.

And now there’s nothing left.