Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
ATLAS
I’m pretty sure when Wylder told me to take a leap if I thought Calvin was someone worth taking the risk for, he expected a slightly longer timeline in the “getting to know him” phase. He and North are so used to me being the responsible one, the one there to clean up any messes they make.
The one who never takes a risk because I know exactly what taking a risk could mean.
And… something about Calvin is making me realize that’s no way to live. No way to live happily, at least.
So… maybe a risk is worth it.
Of course, the disappointment on Calvin’s face is being chased by apprehension, and I’m wondering if maybe there are secrets he’s keeping too. I’ve wondered. I’m usually right when it comes to people, which is why I’m trusting my instincts now in telling him anything at all.
He has more of a story too, but I’m willing to wait to hear it.
I follow Calvin quietly as he leads me inside, my eyes taking in everything they can latch onto. For all I know, he’s going to listen to what I have to say and his apartment will be the last thing I get to see outside of courtrooms and jail cells.
For all I know, he has a weapon hidden somewhere, and he’s going to pull it out when I tell him who I am and try to hurt me.
I don’t know anything except that my gut is telling me I want to be with Calvin, and it’s never actually steered me wrong before.
Sometimes people are worth taking a risk for.
Wylder’s words echo in my ears one more time and I catch Calvin’s wrist as he starts to move mechanically through a cute little kitchen to start coffee.
“I really like you, Calvin.” It spills out before I can stop it, and his brows shoot up.
“Are you breaking up with me?” The question is almost automatic, a little horrified…
and if my guts weren’t so twisted around the knowledge that I was going to confess my worst sins to him, I might have been caught up in the fact that we were together enough in his mind that I could break up with him.
I shake my head quickly, and I know I’m selfish when I lean in to kiss the sigh of relief that spills from his lips.
“That’s good,” he murmurs, trailing his hand carefully up my chest. “It almost sounded like you were.”
“No, I just…” I need to pull back. The way he’s touching me, how warm he feels against me… I want him. I can’t stop myself from gently wrapping my fingers around his wrist and keeping his hand in place instead.
It’s frustrating, wanting to be a moral killer.
“You just… what?” he asks, the question a little more apprehensive now.
He still isn’t pulling away from me yet.
“Do you want to swap where we have our skeletons hidden?” Calvin tries to joke, but I can tell he’s getting nervous.
He’s good at reading people too. “Mine are in the closet like everyone else’s.
So unless you want to tell me about some you have buried beneath your house… ”
Well shit, here goes nothing.
“I don’t bury bodies. There’s an incinerator on my property for that.”
I pause as he bursts into laughter, and it takes him exactly sixteen seconds to realize I’m not laughing with him.
“I…” He gently pulls his wrist from my grip and takes a step back, and I can almost see the second it clicks behind his eyes that I wasn’t making a joke. “What?”
“I…” Fuck. How do I explain all this? “I… used to do a lot of contract work.”
“Construction contracts?” he asks weakly, but I can see the jump in Calvin’s throat. The way his pulse is picking up. He’s believing me faster than he should, and I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.
“I need you to understand, Calvin… I’m not some psychopathic killer.” That would be North, but I’m not bringing him into this. My confession today will be mine alone. “Most of what I’ve done has been for hire.”
Most.
Because we’re not going to talk about the times that it wasn’t just yet—or all the people I’ve hunted down and hurt since my wife died. One thing at a time. One piece at a time. And knowing that people have paid me plenty of money to take care of problems is probably more than enough for now.
“For… hire?” Calvin’s dark eyes are just a little shiny, but I can see him processing what I’m saying.
Some part of me recognizes that he’s maybe managing this a little too easily, taking what I’m saying at face value a little too well.
It might have something to do with that part of him I know he keeps tucked away, but I’m not here to drag a confession out of him tonight.
“I’m a killer, Calvin. Though mostly retired at this point.” He jerks away like I’ve slapped him, and I can’t help but add, “But I wouldn’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. I need you to believe that.”
“I—” It’s like I punched him in the gut. He backs up until he’s pressed to the wall, wrapping his arms around his waist. He swallows hard enough that I can hear it. “Why?”
“Because I’m good at it.” That’s the simple answer, but I feel like he needs more.
“Because there are people in this world who need someone to take care of things when the law doesn’t, when no one else cares.
” Especially after Julia, I paid attention to the jobs I took, made sure the people I was killing were worth killing.
“Atlas…” Calvin looks at me with wide, pain-filled eyes, his hand rubbing back and forth across his sternum like my words found their way into his chest and lanced his heart.
“Who I am, what I’ve done… it doesn’t make me a different person.
I haven’t been acting with you, Calvin. I…
” I reach out for him, but pause when he goes stiff.
“I really like you. I have since the first time I saw you… I’ve felt…
” I take a careful step forward, and he doesn’t try to run.
“Drawn to you. Enough that I’m willing to take a chance now.
” I hold my hands out to my sides and search his face.
“You could burn my entire world to the ground, Calvin. I’m giving you the keys to my fate because I think there’s something here between us, something real… but I refuse to build it on a lie.”
He opens his mouth and shuts it—maybe he was going to tell me I’d already lied to him, but I hadn’t.
Every word I’d said was true.
Everything I’d told him about me was honest.
This was just the last bit standing between everything I am and everything I want to build with him.
“How am I supposed to trust a killer?” It comes out on a whisper, and Calvin’s voice trembles when he speaks.
“Because he’s the man you’ve been spending time with. Because I would never hurt you or anyone who didn’t deserve it.” That’s the truth too. I barely take jobs anymore—I spend most of my time hunting down Keegan’s men and working on my company.
That and occasionally cleaning up after my sons, but…
“Who makes you God to decide who deserves it?”
It’s a fair question, and I give him the only answer I can. “I know evil when I see it, Calvin… and I’ve seen more than my fair share. I know bad, and I know good… and you… fuck, you’re good. So good I’m willing to risk everything to let you know me. Really know me.”
I don’t know if he understands how much it means that I’m telling him this. I really am putting my life and freedom in his gorgeous hands.
“I…” He looks at me like I’ve broken him in half, and then he blows out a breath. “I think you should leave.”
“Calvin, I—”
“No, Atlas. You need to go. I need… I need…” His hands flatten to the wall behind him like he’s trying to stop himself from swaying. I can see the rapidfire rise and fall of his chest, the shine in his eyes. Shocked. Overwhelmed…
Too much.
This was all too much.
Maybe I should have started by telling him I was killing the people who’d killed my wife and worked my way out. But no… he could have the worst of it now, and if he can accept that, I’ll tell him the rest.
“What do you need?” I finally ask, because I’m willing to give it to him. Whatever it is.
“Space. I need space to think. I need time, I need…” He takes another breath and shakes his head slowly. “I need you to leave.”
Leave.
Fuck. Half an hour ago, he’d been planning how to get me out of my dress pants. And now this.
There was every chance as soon as I walked out the door he’d be calling the cops on me.
I needed to text Wylder to let him know—if something did happen, I needed to know that he’d be around to help keep North in line.
But those alarm bells aren’t going off in my head as I stare at Calvin.
Even with his reaction… even with the way he’s looking at me…
I still feel that same draw.
“I want you to trust me.” I say it carefully, and I can see the panic warring with anger and pain in his eyes.
“And I want to be able to trust you. I need you to understand, I don’t tell people my secrets.
It…” I want to lean in and touch him. I want to wrap my arms around his waist and get back to where we were when he thought he was just inviting me in here for coffee.
“It means something, telling you this. Trusting you with this.”
He watches me warily, and it’s almost like I can see the words caught just behind his lips, thick on his tongue, knocking around the back of his throat. Finally, he nods. Just once. Like he’s acknowledging what I’m saying even as he speaks. “Go home, Atlas.”
Shit, he sounds like it hurts him to say it too. But I notice he isn’t saying goodbye.
My eyes connect with his one more time before I turn. I can see the agony there, the confusion. But I can see something deeper—some part of him that’s still looking at me the same way he did earlier on our date.
I haven’t lost him yet. And if I don’t want to, I have to do what any normal person would and respect his wishes.
“All right, Calvin.” I flick my eyes to the door, reluctance drumming in tandem with my heartbeat against my ribcage even as I move. “You have my number.”
He presses his lips together and nods again. Short, sharp… and I do the only thing I can.
I walk out the door.
An hour later I’m still sitting in my car, though I followed through with his wishes and drove home. The chill of the night air is creeping in, but I don’t bother flicking on my heater to chase it away.
That didn’t go exactly how I wanted… but at the same time, it could have gone much worse. He didn’t immediately tell me to fuck off. He didn’t tell me he was calling the police.
He didn’t tell me goodbye, he told me to go home.
He told me he needed time.
I can understand that. It’s not every day your potential suitor confesses to a life of murder and bloodshed. And… maybe I’m off base, but there was something about the way he looked at me as I went out the door, something about his expression that tells me he’s not done with me yet.
I want him to trust me… and maybe I want him to prove that I can trust him too.
But… for the first time in my life, I’m feeling a little impatient.
I’m usually not the kind of person to seek out danger, but I need a distraction.
Even though it’s only been a few weeks since the last time I sent Keegan a message, maybe it’s time for me to do it again.
I know for a fact one of his men relocated a few miles outside of town.
Honestly, if I’m really thinking—hoping—that things with Calvin will be okay, that we can build from this…
I need to finally settle this shit with Keegan once and for all.
I can find his man and see if I can work some information out of him.
And maybe if I spend the next few days carving out my frustration on him, I won’t have to wonder if Calvin is deciding that being with someone like me isn’t worth the risk.