Atlas - Roberts Alyne (читаем книги онлайн без регистрации .TXT) 📗

"Orange juice," he said as he handed me the glass. "It's already five in the morning so we might as well stay up."

"Did you sleep in the chair all night?" I asked.

"I did. I couldn't strap you down with your hands like that," he mumbled as he pushed the chair back in the corner.

I awkwardly drank my juice, looking at my hands and the damage I had caused. They were sore and cut up. At the time, I didn't even feel it. I had just wanted to escape. This morning though, I was sore all over. My ribs hurt, and I felt like I had fallen down a cliff. Thanks to Atlas, I seemed to be cleaned and bandaged up.

"Go get dressed," he told me as he stalked over to the end of the bed. I shrunk down under his angry glare.

"And Stella," he started and leaned toward me. "As much as I would prefer you alive, do not assume that secures your life. The moment your life becomes too much of a risk to me, overcoming the potential outcome, I will dispose of you. Understood?"

"Yes," I whispered. There was no doubt in my mind that he meant it. I also didn't believe that he wouldn't kill me if I did cooperate. I knew what people like him were like.

"Despite what you say, you actually want to live," he said. "Otherwise, why hide? Why fight? Why lie to the police and say you didn't see anything that night?"

A chill ran down my spine and I clenched my jaw to keep my mouth shut. The images from my nightmare, and real life, were too fresh in my mind. I could still smell the freshly spilled blood. I could remember the sound of my scream echoing in the night. I remembered how cold my mother's body felt as I held her in my arms until the paramedics dragged me away.

Atlas wanted to know what I had seen that night, but I kept it locked away. It only came out at night. Only when the darkness took over and there was no light left did the truth have the courage to surface. It was a truth that I would never let out because Atlas was right. I wanted to live. Keeping my secrets was the only thing that kept me alive.

I got up abruptly, picked some random clothes from the closet and took them to change in the bathroom. It wasn't a coincidence it was full of clothing in my size. Atlas had obviously known who I was long before we met at the club. I ran my fingers through my knotted hair and rinsed my face. A hairbrush was apparently too much to ask for.

I came out of the bedroom to find Atlas sitting on the edge of the bed waiting. His dark eyes trailed down my body dressed in simple leggings and a long shirt. His gaze felt more sensual than it did when I was practically naked. Atlas tilted his head and cracked his neck. Standing, he motioned for me to follow him.

Without many other options, I followed him to the kitchen where he pulled out fruit and made me a bagel. I couldn't escape. The windows were boarded up and Atlas never took his eyes off me for more than a few seconds. I heard the footsteps of his guards nearby, but didn't see them. I reluctantly picked at the fruit and pulled off parts of the bagel.

Shoving a piece in my mouth, I tasted the thick cream cheese and my stomach rumbled. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until a piece of food landed in my stomach. I quickly devoured the fruit as well. Atlas kept pushing more food toward me until I couldn't shove anymore in my mouth. I paused, eyeing the fork in my hand.

"Don't even think about it," he warned, his voice low and full of threat.

Setting it down, I looked up at him. This man's attitude toward me had me spinning. One second he was flirting then shoving me in a truck. Then he nursed my wounds before going cold again. I knew who he was. My brother thought he was secretive, but I knew the family he was working for. Atlas was no different than rest of the Omegas.

"Good girl," he said, reaching forward and slipping the fork away from me.

As he walked around behind me, I stiffened and held my breath. When he moved my long hair off my back and over one shoulder, I shuddered.

"You think you could kill with just a fork, Little Star?" he said in my ear.

I shook my head.

"No? If you get the right spot . . ." he said, putting the tines at the pulse point on my neck, right under my chin. "You think this will kill someone?"

"Yes," I gasped when he applied slight pressure. I could feel each tine pressing into my skin.

"Or here," he said as he moved the fork to my chest. He dragged it over the top of my breast and poked the skin right over my heart.

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears and against the fork pressed to my chest. I tried to even out my breathing so he couldn't hear how scared I was. Men like him fed off of it, thrived off of it even. I could feel his body heat on my back as his hand moved from my shoulder and down my arm.

"So you see why I can't let you out of my sight?" he asked, releasing me from his hold.

"I won't do anything stupid again."

"I'm a very careful man."

Atlas washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen like it was any other morning after breakfast. Maybe this was a regular occurrence. For all I knew, Atlas could bring back a different woman every few days as his prisoner. When he got whatever it was that he wanted, he’d get rid of them. I didn't know what exactly it was that Atlas wanted from me, but I wouldn't be giving it to him. He said he wanted information that he surely already knew.

"Sir?" I heard from behind me. I turned to see the two goons from yesterday.

"My office in ten," Atlas told them. Like soldiers, they both nodded and left the room.

"Did you get enough to eat?" he asked me once we were alone.

"Yes," I said. "Thanks."

I hated thanking him and I wished I could take the words back. I wanted to be my dad's daughter and kick him. I should be leaving this world fighting. Kicking and screaming. I shouldn't be hiding. Cowering and obeying a killer would have Daddy rolling in his grave. I closed my eyes and prayed that he wasn't watching me now. I could only hope that he was too busy keeping up with Mom and Ace in Heaven.

VIII

Atlas

I led Stella down to my office. As much as I hated the idea of her knowing where this room was, I couldn't allow her to be alone. She was smarter than I gave her credit for. Even after months of watching and waiting, I didn't know all there was to know about Stella Harlow. It made me feel unprepared and surprised. I hated it.

"Sit," I told her as I shoved her into a chair in the corner. Sal and Tony were waiting for me as I had asked.

"She looks pretty good considering last night," Sal muttered under his breath.

He was right. Stella had some bruises and minor cuts, but it was minimal for what she had gone through. Sal had a black eye and Tony had a decent cut on his cheek. They didn't even go through the broken glass like she had. I made a mental note that she was tougher than I had predicted as well. She wouldn't be easy to break.

"What's the word?" I asked them. I sat in my chair behind the desk where I could see my men and Stella in the corner.

"Your father seems quiet. No movement on his end," Sal started. "Rumor has it you killed the last Harlow. No missing reports on the girl yet."

I looked right at Stella and her eyes were wide. I smirked at her and she glared. Now she knew no one was looking for her, and the only people who were, wanted her dead.