Chapter 31
Home
Atlas
The sun was spilling over the horizon when Jacob and I headed back to the house.
The mansion looked peaceful in the early light.
Roses curled up the trellis, and dew glinted on the lawn.
A picture of serenity, but I knew better.
These walls held too many memories and agonizing screams throughout the nights.
I pulled my cell from my jeans and dialed Tony. He answered on the second ring, voice alert and ready despite the hour.
"Atlas?"
"Bring the bird," I said. "We're wheels up within the hour. Five passengers."
"Understood, boss."
I hung up, shoving the cell back into my pocket.
Jacob glanced at me, then toward the house. "Think they're ready?"
"No," I said flatly. "But they need to be."
Inside, the girls were gathered in the kitchen, mugs of coffee and tea clutched between their trembling hands.
Layla sat at the island, knees pulled up, eyes distant, but alert.
Becca leaned against the counter, Jacob's hoodie drowning her small frame, while my kitten, my fragile, stubborn Kit; stood by the window, staring out at the garden.
The moment she saw me, her lips spread into a smile, her eyes soft, twinkling in the light's glow.
"We're leaving," I said, my voice carrying across the room. "Tony's on his way with the plane. He'll be here in less than an hour."
Becca looked relieved, her shoulders sagging. "Finally." She caught Jacob's eye, and he gave her a faint nod, as if promising she wasn't alone in this. Layla said nothing, just hugged her knees tighter, staring into her cup.
Kitlyn set her mug down, her green eyes fixed on me. "And this house?" she asked quietly. "What happens to it?"
I stepped in closer, stopping in front of her. "It stays. My staff will see to it as they have for the last four years. If you want to come back in a year, great. If you feel different, then I will sell it."
She studied me, searching my face. "I know you love this place, Atlas. I don't think you need to sell it. Maybe in a few months we can stop for a visit. We will see."
"This is about you, pet—not me. I reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, smiling. "We head back home to Rhode Island. You heal, putting the past behind you. Next year, if you're ready, we'll come back. This is all on your terms, Kitten. I'm in no rush to return to Mexico."
Jacob cleared his throat, cutting in on the conversation. "I think we're all eager to get back to the States, back to some sort of normalcy, if there is such a thing."
The girls exchanged small, tired smiles. The first I'd seen from Becca and Layla in a long time. It wasn't joy, but it was a start. I pulled out my phone again, glancing at the time. "Fifteen minutes has already gone by. "Gather what you need. Everything else will be shipped later."
Layla and Becca headed to their room to pack, with Jacob following close behind.
Kitlyn's hand reached out, clasping my hand in hers.
"Thank you for everything," she murmured. "You really are a wonderful man, Atlas."
I pulled her to my chest, kissing her forehead.
"I will do everything in my power to make you happy, Kitlyn. You are fucking exceptional, and I am honored to have you by my side."
The flight back was quiet. Too quiet. The girls stuck close to one another in their seat, bundled in blankets Tony kept stocked on the plane. Kit sat wedged between Becca and Layla, their shoulders touching like they couldn't bear to have too much distance between them.
Jacob and I sat in the first row, keeping to ourselves. I caught Kit's gaze a few times across the aisle, and the light in her eyes told me enough:
She was happy we were going home, and that's all that mattered. Her happiness was my number one priority.
The wheels screeched along the runway at Green Airport just past 1:30 in the afternoon. Rhode Island rolled in crisp and clean, a far cry from Mexico's heavy heat.
The girls breathed in deep.
This was freedom.
I had an SUV waiting for us….a black rental with tinted windows. I slid into the driver's seat. Jacob parked his ass on the passenger side. The girls filed into the back without a word, Kit choosing to squeeze herself in between Becca and Layla again.
My hands wrapped around the wheel, and for the first time in weeks, I wasn't holding a weapon. It almost felt abnormal.
The hum of the highway carried us north, the skyline fading into trees and back roads.
"God," Layla said, leaning her head against the glass. "I forgot what trees looked like without walls around them."
Becca gave a soft laugh that died quickly. "Yeah. Trees and air that doesn't smell like blood and abuse."
Her voice cracked at the end, and Kit wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.
"It's over," Kit whispered to her. "We're home now."
Becca nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Kit, dull and unfocused. Jacob twisted in his seat, flashing them a grin. "Almost all of Chepachet is woods and trees." He looked at Kitlyn and Becca. "You girls know that because you live in the same area."
They both nodded in agreement.
Layla huffed, a smile ghosting across her lips. "I'll take trees and living in no-man's-land over chains any day."
"Fair trade." Jacob said.
Kit pressed forward slightly, her voice reaching me from behind. "It feels strange…being back here. Like none of it happened, but it did. I don't even know what normal is supposed to feel like anymore."
My hands gripped the wheel. "Normal doesn't exist," I said. "But peace? You'll have that here."
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded, settling back into her seat. We drove in silence for a stretch, the sound of tires on asphalt filling the gaps. Then Layla spoke, softer this time. "I would like to see the ocean. Not today…but soon."
It was March, and still cold in Rhode Island. "You'll see it." I said. "The best time to visit the beaches is in the summer, so in a few months."
Jacob reached for the radio, flipping through the channels. He settled on Sirius Pop 2K. A variety of pop music hummed through the speakers, low and steady, filling the car with something other than silence.
The girls didn't sing, but through the mirror on the visor, I watched Kit tap her fingers lightly against her knee. I was glad to see her climbing out of her shell. This was a significant milestone since being rescued.
She was taking her life back.
The further north we went, the narrower the roads became, lined with thick woods.
Home.
My kind of home anyway. Even though the place was bought through the CIA, I was willing to purchase it from them if Kit wanted it.
The area was small, tucked away….quiet enough to disappear in, large enough to hold what was mine. When the SUV finally turned down the winding drive to the estate, the girls pressed closer to the windows. Especially Layla. She had always lived in Mexico, so this would be a clean break for her.
A new start.
The stone walls, the iron gate, the sweeping lawn…it all rose into view, surrounded by towering trees. Kit's hand rested against the glass, her breath fogging a small circle.
"We made it," she whispered.
"Yeah, Kitten," I said quietly. "We did."
I pulled into the underground garage. For the first time in weeks, my chest eased. This was the beginning of something much better. I was going to make damn sure of it.