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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

ATLAS

I thought it would be easier to sleep now that Sutton and Laurel were staying in my house, as safe as I could make them besides the steps I’d already taken to make it so.

Turned out, I was a fucking idiot.

In more ways than one.

Exhibit A: moving Sutton and Laurel in with me under the assumption I could handle it.

Exhibit B: the fact that I’d built this house so that the nicest guest room shared a wall with mine.

For as much as I’d paid for this place, shouldn’t these walls be a little fucking thicker?

I shouldn’t have been able to hear Sutton getting ready for bed, but I definitely could.

And, apparently, even the rustle of fabric got my dick hard now.

When I’d heard the shower turn on?

Fucking hell . I’d had to shove a pillow over my head in the hopes of drowning it out.

Except all that had done was conjure up images of each time I’d been inside her.

Her throaty little moans, those crescent-shaped marks she left on my thighs, the sound of her begging for more.

And the image that had played on a near-constant loop in my mind since I’d fucked her on the desk—the sight of her cunt with my come spilling out of it.

So yeah, I hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep last night.

Which was why I was out before dawn, trying to force those memories out of my head with a grueling run.

Problem was, running left a whole lot of time for me to think, and thinking was the absolute last thing I needed to be doing right now.

I needed a distraction, but the streets were empty, everyone still asleep in their beds.

A before-dawn wake-up call for Lincoln or Declan would throw me straight into a retaliation war with either or both of them.

So, instead, I popped in an earbud and called Xander who I knew would be heading to the gym.

It rang three times before he picked up.

“You don’t usually call this early. What’s up?”

“Wanted to check in. How’re things going down there?”

“Same shit, different day,” he said, the hum of road noise and the persistent click of a blinker coming through the line.

“Been working too many fucking hours every week. I don’t even remember what my bed looks like.”

“City life will do that to you.”

He grunted in response.

“Did you get the Mom Situation handled?”

“Which one?” There seemed to be a different issue every time I blinked.

I didn’t know how, but our mom was a conduit of chaos.

If she didn’t go looking for it, it found her anyway.

This week, she’d attempted to replace a light switch and managed to cut power to the entire block instead.

“The pipe thing while you were at that event a few weeks ago.”

The same night I’d met Sutton.

Jesus, had that really only been weeks ago?

It felt like an entire fucking lifetime.

“Yeah,” I said. “I took care of it.”

Just like everything else.

No one else needed to worry about it.

I could handle it.

Lincoln’s plea came back to me then.

This would be a perfect opportunity to tell Xander we were drowning.

And that maybe now was a good time to come home.

With his credentials, he’d have no problem securing a job here.

And Xander sure as hell wouldn’t have to work sixty- or seventy-hour weeks in Starlight Cove.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him as much when he cut in.

“Shit, hey, I got a situation here. Gotta run.”

“All right, talk to you—” But the line was dead before I could get the words out.

I blew out a heavy sigh and focused again on my run, blocking out everything but the thud of my shoes against the pavement.

By the time I made it back home, the house was dark, everything still and silent as I shut and locked the door behind me.

I hadn’t even made it two steps into the kitchen when a sharp meow cut through the air, and a creature attacked my leg.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I hissed, my heart thumping wildly, and not from the run.

The kitten’s arms were wrapped around my calf, its beady black eyes staring up at me with murderous intent.

I glared down at her.

“Nice try. Your heart attack kill plan failed.” I reached down and plucked her from my leg, cringing at the scrape of her claws against my calf.

Cupping her in one palm, I held her up in front of me, just a white ball of fluff.

“I’m not putting you in my will, so it doesn’t matter if you off me. You’re not getting anything.”

The kitten meowed in response.

“No, I’m not going to change my mind. It’s already been allocated to my mom and brothers.”

Another meow as I placed her on my shoulder and grabbed a protein shake from the fridge.

“Just be grateful you don’t have any siblings. They’re a pain in the ass. Always having to look out for them. Making sure they’re handling their shit. But does anyone do the same for you? Nope. Not even a ‘Hey, how are things going?’ Well, I’m glad you asked. I think I really fucked up, and I don’t— ow , Jesus! All right, I’ll get you your breakfast. God damn .”

I plucked the kitten off my shoulder and set her on the floor before readying her food.

“Evil, murderous little shit. If Laurel suggests Jack the Ripper, I’m saying yes.”

Wednesday

Atlas:

Early meeting.

I made coffee. Creamer is in the fridge, sugar in the cabinet to the right of the sink.

Sutton:

It’s a little weird that you know how I like my coffee.

You even got the flavor of creamer I love.

Atlas:

Lucky guess

Thursday

Atlas:

Picking Laurel up at the library and bringing her to Cami’s.

Sutton:

I was supposed to get her after work.

Why are you playing Daddy Grump taxi?

Atlas:

Because she asked me to.

Friday

Sutton:

Any idea how my car’s gas tank got refilled when it was on E after I got home last night?

Atlas:

I had an early morning errand, and your car was blocking mine.

Sutton:

Your driveway is three cars wide.

Atlas:

So?

Sutton:

So, that’s clearly a lie.

Atlas:

Gotta go. Practice.