Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Atlas stepped into the foyer. Knowing a woman lay dead in one of the bedrooms twisted his gut in the wrong direction. But as much as he was bothered by what had happened to that young woman, he couldn’t stop the words circling his mind:
That could have been Molly.
He moved through the house with his gun trained ahead of him. He didn’t dare turn on a light and alert Vinny—the bastard from the emails they’d found—that he was there.
Viper walked at his side. They swept the lower level then ascended the stairs and checked the kitchen and living room before turning toward the bedrooms.
As he made his way down the hall one step ahead of his comrade, the air grew thicker. Dense with the weight of death.
Viper inched closer as they entered the bedroom on the right.
Atlas couldn’t look at the deceased woman. Couldn’t think about how crushing it’d been to believe he’d found Molly’s body.
After clearing that space, they moved to the bedroom housing Willy’s body. The area was empty.
“Balcony,” Viper mouthed, motioning with his head.
Atlas stepped onto the concrete that overlooked the backyard. Movement in the corner of his eye made him swivel his rifle.
Crack!
Atlas ducked and a bullet whizzed by his head. The glass door behind him shattered. He lunged forward, driving his elbow into the man’s face. His attacker staggered backward, and his head hit the railing before he sunk to the ground.
Atlas wrenched the gun from his hands and glared at him. “You must be Vinny.” He hit the mag release, caught the magazine, stuffed it into his pocket, then dropped the weapon.
His gaze went to the coil of rope on the floor of the balcony. He picked it up. One end was tied to the railing, and the other was looped into a noose. He smirked. “Sorry to interrupt your party.”
“Fuck you!” Vinny spat.
“What, mad that you can’t rape any young women today?” Atlas said with disdain. Fucking tool.
He should leave this guy for the authorities. Abandon him on the island. But the slimy prick would just find another way to end his life.
He wanted the honors.
He pointed the gun at Vinny’s leg. “I’m curious. How long does it take to die once you hang yourself? Did you Google it before you tied the rope?”
Blood trickled from Vinny’s nose. His beady dark eyes were laced with fury. “Who the hell are you?”
Atlas dug the mouth of his rifle deep into Vinny’s thigh, eliciting a pathetic whine. “The woman you tried to buy. She’s with me. Small world, huh?” He pulled the trigger.
Vinny’s scream sent animals scurrying through the nearby trees. Birds squawked, irritated at the intrusion.
Vinny’s breath hissed through clenched teeth. Spittle dripped down his chin. Atlas brought the gun to his other leg.
“No!” Vinny bellowed.
He pulled the trigger. The sharp crack of metal hitting bone was much more audible this time. Blood gushed from the wound and Vinny’s gaze flickered.
“Ooo, that’s a painful one,” Viper said behind him.
Atlas reached down to pat Vinny on the cheek. “Stay with me, dude. We’re not done yet.” He jerked his head toward his friend. “Help me get him up.”
Viper moved in without question. The man couldn’t stand, but Viper held him upright while Atlas looped the rope around his neck.
Grabbing the guy’s arms, he locked gazes with him. “I don’t know how many women you raped, Vinny. But consider this payment for each one. Shitty thing for you is you’re still going to hell.”
He threw Vinny over the balcony.
A sharp snap echoed, and his body convulsed. Atlas didn’t stay to watch the rest. He gave Viper a brisk nod of thanks and reentered the house.
It was time to take Molly home.
Molly’s body rocked and shook as the boat bounced over the waves. When Atlas had come to get her from the trees, he’d said very little. He’d picked her up, asked if she was okay or hurt anywhere, then carried her down to the dock, where Rogue had pulled up with a speedboat.
She’d lost track of how long they’d been on the boat. Several times already she’d glanced behind her. The next time she looked, Atlas’s hold on her tightened.
“There’s no one left to come after you, honey.”
She sat curled on his lap with a solar blanket tucked around her. She still couldn’t stop shivering. Maybe it was the cold that’d tapped into her bones, or maybe it was shock.
“They’re . . . dead?”
He met her stare. “Yeah, Mol. They’re dead.”
She swallowed. God, this man had killed so many men—for her. She nodded distractedly, rattled by that realization but also thrilled by it.
Good lord she had issues.
Rogue shouted something, but she didn’t catch it over the loud motor. Atlas dipped his lips to her ear. “Almost there.”
A few minutes later, the harbor came into view. It was a new sight to her—she’d been unconscious throughout the trip to the island.
Rogue cut the motor and her ears rang in the sudden quiet. Atlas stood and carried her onto the dock and then to an SUV. He tucked her in the back seat and clicked her seatbelt in place. Unease skittered through her. He moved so methodically and seemed distant.
He got in beside her and shut the door while the guys piled in. Havoc sat on the other side of her.
They traveled in silence, but Atlas’s palm covered hers and brought their joined hands to his lap.
“Um, we taking her to the hospital?” Rogue asked from the driver’s seat, glancing in the rearview mirror.
Atlas studied her face. “I think we should. You’re badly hurt.”
She shook her head. Ther was nothing worse than bright lights, questions, and lack of sleep. “No, I’m okay. I just need a hot bath and rest.”
He sighed but told Rogue to take them to the hotel. Twenty minutes later, he carried her into their suite. She’d have insisted she could walk, but given the cuts on her bare feet, she didn’t want to get an infection.
Atlas took her right into the bathroom, set her down on the counter, then turned on the tap in the bathtub. He put his hand under the faucet, and when he seemed satisfied with the temperature, he turned around.
His gaze hit her face like two intense laser beams, seeking out injury. He approached her carefully and cradled her jaw as he’d done in the jungle.
She melted into his hands, fighting the tears that wanted to push through her lashes.
“Molly,” he breathed. “I’m so damn sorry.”
She blinked. Frowning, she shook her head. “What are you sorry about?”
“I was supposed to protect you. And look—you’re beat up, for god’s sake. None of this should’ve happened.”
She looped her fingers around one of his wrists. “No, but that responsibility isn’t on you. It just . . . happened.”
His mouth settled into a hard, unrelenting line. His thumb touched her cheekbone. “I want some ice on that.”
She shuddered. “I’ve been cold for so long I can’t stand the thought of ice.”
“Let’s get you warm then.” He reached for the hem of her shirt. The material stuck to her skin as he removed it, and she winced as it pulled at the bruises.
His gaze drifted over her torso as he dropped the shirt to the ground, and a vein ticked in his forehead. “What the fuck happened?”
His fingers skimmed down her arms and then lifted her elbows to survey her abdomen. She cringed and closed her eyes. Everywhere was tender, but she could only guess how bad it looked—and she didn’t want to see those marks right now.
“I should’ve taken you in. Christ.” He dragged a hand over his face.
Sitting there in her bra, she felt self-conscious in front of him. More vulnerable. Not because she didn’t want him to see her body, but because she hated the look on his face when he saw her hurt. She moved to fold her arms in front of her waist, but he caught her hands.
“Mol, tell me what they did.”
The water sputtered, and she nodded in the direction of the tub. “That’s going to overflow.”
He stepped away and flicked the handle, then returned and lifted her from the counter. She winced as the soles of her feet touched the cool, hard tile.
He stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“I have cuts on my feet. That’s all.”
He reached for the waistband of her pants and helped her out of them, then turned her around to unclip her bra. Naked and hyperaware, she closed her eyes for several seconds, her back to him, then took a step toward the tub.
Until today, she’d felt beautiful around Atlas. Sexy. Desired. Now, she was acutely mindful of how thin she was, how bruised and battered.
She lifted her foot over the lip of the tub and Atlas’s grip steadied her. With one hand on her elbow and the other on her waist, he helped her lower into the hot water.
She let out a groan of delight as the warmth surrounded every inch of her body. “Ohmigod, this feels amazing.” She slid down until all but her head was submerged. “I just want to sleep in here.”
“Can’t allow that.” He knelt near the tub and dipped his hand in the water, reaching for her foot. “I just want to make sure you don’t need stitches anywhere.”
He cradled her heel in his palm and frowned. Dipping her leg back into the water, he lifted the other. “Nothing serious, but they must be sore. I’ll bandage them once you get out. There’s quite a few scrapes. How’d that happen?”
She skimmed her fingers along the surface of the water. It was clear, leaving her entire body on display for him. She should’ve been shy, but with Atlas, she wasn’t. “I escaped. Made it to the beach and found a small cave, but . . .”
His fingers gently massaged the ankle still in his hold, silently urging her on.
“They saw my footprints in the sand and found me.” She moved her tongue over her cracked, salty lips, remembering the dark cave and the even darker places her mind had gone.
She’d felt so alone.
Had assumed she was going to die right then and there.
“They threw a flare stick inside. The smoke was thick and awful—then they dragged me out.”
He let loose a growl. “Goddammit.”
She tucked her chin, ashamed she’d been caught. “There wasn’t anywhere else to hide. I—”