Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
ATLAS
“ T hank you,” Nora whispers as we walk into the house.
“Again.”
I glance back at her, my arms loaded down with Target bags.
“Anything for you, Pip,” I reply, meaning every word.
There’s just something about spoiling Nora that sets my damn soul on fire.
I don’t know if it’s the way her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink or the way she pouts her full, kissable lips at me, but I fucking love it.
She’s selfless to a fault, willing to go without so she won’t feel like a burden or an inconvenience.
Too bad I’m dead set and determined to give her the world.
“You know you don’t have to buy me things though, right?” She follows behind me, down the hall, and into her—my—room.
“I know.” I drop the bags unceremoniously onto the floor.
“I didn’t do it because I had to, I did it because I wanted to.”
She tries to scowl at me, but the way her lips keep shaking tells me she’s fighting a smile.
Honestly, it was a no-brainer to fill the cart with the things she liked at Target, and once she’s a little farther along in her pregnancy, I’ll gladly do it all over again.
I’m not wealthy by any stretch of the word, but I have some savings from my mom’s side of the family along with a nice nest egg, money I’ve just been squirreling away for a rainy day.
Money I’m more than happy to spend on Nora, our baby, and the life I hope we can one day build together.
She sighs and flops down onto the bed.
“Who knew shopping was so exhausting?”
Laughing, I motion for her to scooch over so I can join her, lying on my back with one arm tucked behind my head.
Nora wastes no time snuggling into me, with her head on my chest. I wrap an arm around her waist, and before I know it, we’re both out cold.
Minutes, or maybe hours later, I wake to the smell of bacon wafting through the house.
Ellis must be home.
I try to fish my phone out of my pocket without waking Nora, but she’s wrapped around me like a damn octopus again, making it an impossible task.
There’s no sunlight shining through the window, though, so we clearly snoozed for a few hours at the very least.
“Nora, you gotta wake up,” I murmur, running my fingers through her sleep-tangled hair.
“Ellis is making dinner.”
She throws her leg over mine, mumbling some kind of unintelligible reply as she buries her face into the crook of my neck.
“C’mon, Pip.” I drag my fingers over her ribs, softly tickling her.
“Up and at ‘em.”
“But I’m so cozy.” She curls her fingers into the fabric of my shirt. “You’re so warm and soft and smell nice.”
I snort a laugh. If she were to slide her leg a little lower, she’d find out how not soft I am for her.
“Don’t laugh at me.
”
“You can snuggle me any time, you know that, right? Day or night, you want me to be your living, breathing pillow, all you gotta do is say the word and I’m here.”
“Fine.” She releases my shirt and pushes herself into a seated position.
“I’m up, are you happy?”
I lean up and steal a kiss.
“With you? Always. Now, let’s go see what Ellis’s got going on in the kitchen.”
But before we can get out of bed, Ellis bangs on the door.
“BLTs in five. Wake up or finish boning—either way, this shit isn’t good cold.”
Nora gasps, slapping her palm over her mouth.
“He thinks we’re… we’re… having sex!”
I shrug.
“He also said wake up, so maybe he thinks we’re sleeping.”
“We were sleeping!” Her wide eyes and pink cheeks are a sight to behold.
“So, then, nothing to worry about, right?” I force myself out of the bed and then extend a hand her way to help her out, too.
She glares but takes my hand all the same.
“Good evening, love birds,” Ellis says as we enter the kitchen.
“For your dining pleasure, I’ve prepared BLTs on wheatberry with a side of Lay’s finest potato chips.” He slides two plates our way with all the flourish of a three-star chef.
“Bon appétit.”
Nora laughs at Ellis’s antics as she eagerly bites into her sandwich, her earlier embarrassment long forgotten.
“Oh, wow. This is good.”
“It’s my secret sauce.” Ellis winks.
I make a pfft sound.
“It’s garlic aioli.”
“Which I made myself!” he shouts, sending a glare my way.
“From scratch!”
“Whatever it is, it’s delicious.” Nora emphasizes her declaration with another big bite, moaning happily as she chews.
“Thank you, Nora. You’re my new favorite.”
She grins at him and then sticks her tongue out at me.
Little brat. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
“Are we watching anything tonight?” Ellis asks, smoothly—and wisely—changing the subject.
I shrug, content to let Nora decide.
“We can, but nothing too long. Atlas wore me out today and I’m tired.”
“Did he now?” Ellis grins, holding his hand my way for a high-five.
“At Target,” I clarify, pointedly ignoring his outstretched palm.
“Right.” He snickers to himself.
“Before we watch whatever, do y’all mind if I check the news? There’s something I want to see.”
“I don’t mind,” I say, turning to Nora.
“Do you?”
“Go for it.” She stands from her barstool.
“Why don’t y’all go on and I’ll load our plates into the dishwasher.”
“Are you sure?” For some reason, I hate the thought of her doing any kind of housework.
Probably because my dad all but forced her into servitude.
She rolls her eyes and kisses me on my cheek.
“I’m sure. Go on.”
Ellis and I retreat to the living room.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you more about Rand,” he says, settling into his recliner, “but my schedule’s been so nuts I haven’t had a chance.”
My whole body tenses.
“Okay, what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking about those death certificates. I agree, something isn’t right with them, and I’d like to look into it more.”
“With the department?” I give him my full attention.
“Do you think it’s enough for a warrant?”
He shrugs, looking toward me, but not quite meeting my eyes.
“I’d like to look into it, regardless. Nora… she deserves it.”
“Fucking right,” I agree.
Then a thought occurs.
“Won’t you get in trouble?”
“Don’t borrow problems, Atlas. God knows we already have enough of them.” He powers on the TV, effectively ending our conversation.
“Should be on channel five.”
“The victim was found just behind where I’m standing,” an on-location correspondent says, speaking into the microphone, “marking the third homicide this month.”
“Do the police have any leads?” The station anchor, Chelle, appears almost bored.
“As this is an active investigation, the authorities are not releasing a lot of information. So, we don’t currently know for sure if it’s an individual working alone or if multiple people are involved.”
“We could potentially have a serial killer on our hands?” Chelle interrupts, staring dramatically into the camera.
The correspondent winces and then nods.
“At this time, the police aren’t ruling anything out. We heard today that several local law enforcement agencies are teaming up in an effort to solve these cases. Unfortunately, for now, we have more questions than answers.”
“What can we do in the meantime?” Chelle asks.
“The authorities are asking everyone to stay alert and report any suspicious activity in hopes of finding whoever is responsible for these crimes.”
“Here’s to hoping they’re able to get a lead. I know I’ll sleep easier once justice has been served.”
“Three murders?” I ask, incredulous.
“That’s not counting the four from last month. All the same MO.”
“Fuck.” I scrub a hand over my face.
“Are you working on it?”
“Yeah. It’s why I’ve been so busy. Fucking sicko.” The pure revulsion in his voice tells me all I need to know—the man behind these murders is a monster.
“All clean,” Nora says, joining me on the couch.
“What did I miss?”
But before either of us can answer, the news anchor drops a bombshell none of us were expecting.
“And in other news, local pharmacist, Randall Wallace, is still missing.” A picture of him flashes across the screen.
“The police are asking for the public’s assistance in locating him…” She drones on, but my focus is locked on Nora, who is stock-still at my side.
“Pip.” I keep my tone soft, much like our first night at the motel.
“You’re okay. You’re safe.” I reach for her hand, but the second my fingers brush hers, she’s off like a shot, sprinting down the hall toward my room.
“Fuck, Atlas, I didn’t know they had released that!” The worry on his face is as plain as day.
I know he’s being truthful.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him, taking off after her.
The door to my bedroom is closed—I test the knob—but not locked.
“Nora.” I rap my knuckles against the frame.
“I’m coming in.”
I’m half expecting to find her hiding in my closet again, but I don’t.
Instead, she’s curled into a ball in the center of my bed.
Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, and I swear to God my heart breaks right in two as I watch her cry.
“Can I hold you, Pip?” I ask, not wanting to cause her more distress.
She lifts her head, piercing me with her tear-filled eyes.
“P-please?” Her chin wobbles and so do my knees.
Her pain and fear are palpable, flooding every bit of space in the room.
I fucking hate it—I hate that she’s hurting and that I’m helpless to fix it.
If I could, I’d take every ounce of her suffering and claim it as my own, if only to take the weight of it off her shoulders.
But the universe is a cruel bitch, and all I can do is try my best to help her heal, one day at a time.
For the second time today, I crawl into the bed beside her.
Once again, she wraps herself around me, this time pressing her face into my neck.
I wrap my arms around her, rubbing my hands up and down her back in what I hope is a soothing way.
“I’ve got you, Pip. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She sniffles and burrows in deeper into my side.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Just rest. I’ve got you.”
I keep whispering reassurances in her ear, until finally, her tears dry, her muscles relax, and sleep claims her.
I’m torn between retreating to the couch and staying here with her.
I don’t know which would freak her out more—waking up alone or with me in bed with her.
I waffle back and forth before finally deciding to stay.
She needs me, said she feels safe with me.
Sleeping in jeans sounds terrible, but she whimpers when I try to wiggle out from under her, further cementing my plan to sleep in here with her.
“Stay,” she murmurs, clutching at my shirt.
“I’m not leaving you,” I whisper back, gently prying her fingers open.
“Never leaving you.”
I shuck off my jeans and pull on a pair of sweats before climbing back into the bed, tugging the comforter up and over both of us.
It’s way too early to go to bed, but Nora’s exhausted, so I settle in for the night, content to hold her until sleep claims me, too.
DIARY ENTRY, PRESENT DAY
Dear Diary,
For almost two whole weeks, my personal monster wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.
For almost two whole weeks, my life felt normal.
For almost two whole weeks, I felt safe.
And then, with one measly news bulletin, it all came crashing down around me.
The safety I’ve been clinging to is nothing more than an illusion, because as long as Rand Wallace is out there, he’s a threat.
Before that stupid report, I was looking forward to telling you all about my day out with Atlas, but now, here I am acting like the same scared girl I was two weeks ago.
God, has it really only been two weeks?
Somehow it feels like a lifetime since I made a run for it.
Maybe that’s because of how at peace Atlas makes me feel.
Any time I’m around him, I just feel this overwhelming sense of calm—like no matter what happens, I’ll be okay.
I’m sure it seems fast, and maybe a little crazy, but I really do love him, Diary.
He’s a good man, with a good heart.
He’s the complete opposite of his father.
I want so badly to give in to my feelings for him, but at the same time, I’m scared.
He’s my stepbrother and the son of my abuser!
We don’t make sense together on paper, but in my heart, I know he’s it for me.
Almost everything in my brain is all mixed up…
except my feelings for him.
My love for him is almost like my very own North Star, guiding me back to the present when my thoughts stray too far into my past.
I’m so, so angry.
That’s what I am. I’m furious.
The last two weeks here with Atlas have been the best two weeks of my life, and I refuse to let anything take that away from me.
So (excuse my language, Diary) fuck Randall Wallace.
He doesn’t get to control me any longer.
He doesn’t get to make me cower in fear.
I’m free of him, and I’m going to live like it. Determined, Nora