Atlas - Roberts Alyne - Страница 32
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XXIII
Stella
I woke up sore. Everything hurt. My legs ached, my skin was raw and my heart was broken. My brain felt scrambled. A familiar fog settled over me much like the one after losing my parents and brother. That feeling of unbelieving and sadness was swallowing me.
A heat was wrapped around me. Atlas. When we got back from visiting my old house, Atlas brought me to my room. For the first time since he started sneaking in, he fucked me without the ropes. It was also the only time he had ever stayed. It was his way of distracting me, keeping away the bad memories that were threatening to take me under.
His heat reminded me I was alive and still breathing. Still fighting. I had fought the fog off before. What kind of person would I be if I let it back in? I was raised better than that. I was stronger than that. Atlas clung to me and held me to his chest. I was safe for now. With open eyes, I recalled my trip home. I remembered the way he fucked me, hard and unrelenting when we returned to the lake house.
I closed my eyes and dug into the dark spots of my mind. The places I never dared to go. They were the parts of my memory that only came out at night. Shadows disappeared in the dark. In the darkness lie my demons and greatest fears. It was there that the memory of the night I saw a murder was hidden. That was where I would find the man who shot my mom and dad.
"You're shaking," Atlas said in my ear. He could have been screaming but I barely hear him.
My brother's written words replayed in my mind. He told me to trust my gut because I had the "Harlow intuition." Ace said he loved me more than anything and never to stop fighting. His letter warned me that he sent a friend to come for me, but I found it too late. His parting words ripped a hole in my heart.
"Stella!" he was shouting. "Come back to me."
"I can't" I said as I threw myself from the bed.
Memories played in my head like a movie. Unlike every other time they bubbled over, I didn't fight them. I embraced them. I saw the dirty dishes from dinner stacked on the counter. I could see the floral pattern of my mom's robe. The lines on my dad's face looked so real in my mind. I even saw the man who was about to take their lives.
Atlas grabbed me as I crawled on the floor. He tried to grab my hands, but I fought him. I needed them. I needed to draw.
"I can draw," I said. "The man who came into my house and killed my parents."
"You can draw his face?" he asked, trying to understand my shaking words.
I answered with a nod.
"Why would you do that now?" he asked.
I knew that it was my last bargaining chip. It was the only piece that kept me alive this long. I just wanted it all to end. Not just for me, but for everyone involved.
"Pen. Pencil," I rasped. I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks and saw Atlas notice them too.
He listened though and found a pen in the pocket of his jacket that he had tossed to the floor earlier. Using my teeth, I pulled off the cap and crawled to the wall. Quickly, perfectly and quietly, I drew the face I hated to see. I drew his eyes that held only evil and pain. I drew the lips that lifted into a smile as he pulled the trigger. I drew the scar on his chin that I was sure he had deserved.
I worked without interruption, forgetting I was naked. If Atlas tried to talk to me, I didn't hear him. I was lost in my nightmares. Lost in my past. At some point, I broke the pen and used the spilled ink for better shading. By the time I was finished, I had taken up most of the wall. I stepped back and dropped the pen.
"Stella." The voice was gentle in my ear.
I turned and Atlas stood behind me. He had pulled on pants at some point and held a robe out for me. Feeling a sudden chill, I turned and let him slip my arms through the sleeves. He stared back at me. All ink and flat, but real to me nonetheless. This man didn't just kill a cop and his wife in their kitchen. He killed their daughter who was left alone and unprotected in their absence. The Stella they raised was buried with them, leaving someone else entirely in her place.
"You should shower, Little Star," Atlas said, forcing me to look at him.
I looked into his eyes and saw my own anger and hate reflecting back at me. I saw the thirst for revenge and justice. I recognized the hunger for truth and blood. I saw a part of me in Atlas. Or did I see a part of Atlas in me?
We went to the bathroom where Atlas helped me under the hot water. Shedding his clothes, Atlas washed me, using his hands and lips to erase the memories. As his fingers glided over my skin, it warmed me and brought me back. His lips breathed life back into my lungs. His voice pulled me from the fog. When he dried us both, he wiped away the guilt and fear.
"That's him?" he asked when we stepped back into the bedroom fully clothed.
"Yeah," I growled.
"I'll find him," he said forcefully.
"Do me a favor," I said. Atlas looked down at me with a questioning look.
"Make him beg for his life before you end it."
After a quick nod, I pushed past him and out to the hall without an ounce of regret for my request. I could hear Atlas following and I knew he would keep the promise. I didn't feel bad. My dad said sometimes you had to hurt people to save others. The man belonging to the face on my wall needed to be hurt to save others. There were probably more who needed to be hurt to save lives.
Atlas opened the door to let Sal and Tony come inside. They stood staring at my depiction of a killer. Their faces were hard and I saw Tony clench his fists. The three men whispered quietly while I waited numbly. There was nothing left for me to do at this point. I gave them all they needed so my job was done. I was useless.
Tony and Sal left the room looking like men on a mission. I looked up to find Atlas watching me with an angry glare. Swallowing, I felt resigned. I knew a long time ago that this day would come. I didn't know why I had even bothered running in the first place. My brother's trouble would have caught up to me eventually.
"Come on," Atlas said roughly, pulling me up to my feet.
Atlas pulled me out of the room and down the hall. He didn't take me the direction of the office or kitchen. We went the direction I had only gone one other time. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as he pulled the basement door open. Forcing me before him, I descended the stairs into the darkness.
It was silent when our footsteps stopped. I couldn't see or hear Atlas behind me anymore. I spun around, searching in the darkness for him. I knew he was there. I could sense him somewhere. Willing my eyes to adjust and reaching into nothing, I was still blind and lost. Alone.
"I can hear your heartbeat," said Atlas in a calm and even voice.
I spun around, trying to pick out where he was. His voice was everywhere, but nowhere at the same time.
"Are you scared, Stella?" he asked.
My breathing was heavy and my hands shook as I reached out, searching for him. I wasn't sure if I was looking for safety or the very thing I needed saving from.
"Answer the question," he whispered in my ear. Turning around quickly, he was already gone and out of reach.
"Yes," I admitted.
My answer was met with more silence. I could only hear my own pounding heart and short, shallow breaths.
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