Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Atlas
I fucking hate leaving Blythe.
She’s just upstairs, I remind myself.
Safe. But then the words ‘for now’ latch onto it, and I feel uneasy.
What-ifs begin to push the sense of security I had.
Quickly, I go through all thepotential dangers.
If anyone wants to get to her, they’ll have to go through me first.
My fingers twitch at the thought, an instinctive urge to check the safe in the shop.
The one with my weapons, my insurance policy.
There’s a loaded SIG tucked inside, extra mags are lined up next to it.
A shotgun, because sometimes close range is all that matters.
And a knife—because my mentor always says a man should never be without one.
I push the thought aside and step into the backroom of the shop.
Malerick, Cass, and Sanford are already there.
The tension in the air feels like the last few seconds before a storm breaks.
“Is it just the three of us?” I ask, scanning the room.
I try not to say we might be fucked, but my tone probably gives it away.
“Not exactly,” Sanford says.
“We have the support of our local sheriff.”
Malerick exhales through his nose, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have that many people.” His jaw tightens, his expression dark.
“This is another bloodbath waiting to happen. I . . .” He rubs a hand over his face.
“Fuck, I should’ve stayed with the FBI.”
Cass leans against the table, smirking.
“You’d be bored out of your mind.” He nods toward Malerick.
“It’s better when you hang out with friends while being a public servant .”
It takes me a second to register the flirt in his tone.
What the fuck? Did he wink at my brother?
I should tell him to stay the fuck away from Mal—just like I did the other day when I caught him flirting with Delilah.
Cass is temporary. He’s here for a few months, maybe a couple of years, until they can take down the Hollow Syndicate.
But after that? He’s gone.
And the last thing I need is a heartbroken brother or Del—who’s practically family—getting caught in something that was never meant to last.
I set my jaw, making a mental note to deal with that later.
Right now, we’ve got bigger problems.
“So, just the sheriff and his people—the same ones who think battling gossip qualifies as law enforcement?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level.
Trying not to let the fact that I’m freaking the fuck out show.
Sanford scoffs. “Nah. We’ve already got assets close by—remember, they’re just a few towns away. Crait Quantum Shield is flying people over, and my team’s in the air as we speak.”
“So as long as nothing happens in the next five hours, we’ll be fine?” I ask, trying to piece the plan together.
Sanford nods. “Yeah, but we have a plan.”
I nod back.
“Let’s hear it.”
Malerick speaks first. “The Hollow Syndicate and Winston’s men are working together. That makes things messy. But it also makes them predictable.” He glances at Sanford.
“Your guys have been tracing their movements?”
Sanford confirms it with a tight nod.
“Yeah. Winston is setting up in Larkspur Knoll.”
Silence settles over the room.
Larkspur Knoll isn’t some far-off town.
It’s close. An hour away, maybe less if they move fast, if we aren’t careful, they’ll see our people mobilizing before we even get there.
Should I say something?
Cassian runs a hand through his hair, his eyes sharp with focus.
“If we hit them fast, we can cut him off before he has a chance to scatter.”
I already know where this is going.
“And Blythe?”
Sanford’s face tightens.
“We keep her locked down.”
I exhale slowly, shaking my head.
“She’s not going to like that.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Malerick crosses his arms, his expression unreadable.
“She’s pregnant. She’s the reason we’re doing this in the first place. You think I’m going to risk my niece’s life because she suddenly wants revenge?”
His words settle in my chest like a slow burn.
His niece. Since when does he care about me or .
. . well, I’ve never had a significant other or a baby on the way, but I don’t think he’s ever given two fucks about me before.
Though, right now is not the time to think about his reaction.
I’ll file it for another day.
“I get that,” I say, keeping my voice even.
“But where is she supposed to go? The ranch is a no-go. I’m not putting Hop, Nysa, or Maddy in danger.”
Sanford exhales.
“Look, we all want the same thing. But we can’t afford mistakes. Winston is going to see us coming. We have to be smart.”
I nod once.
“Fine. Then let’s be smart.”
I shift my stance, rolling my shoulders.
“First,” I say, “we need to assume Winston already knows something’s off. If we can track his people, he can track ours. You said it, they got an agent and?—”
“An agent posing as a single woman.” Cassian is the one who interrupts me.
“Let’s clarify that the reason they got her was because she looked a lot like Blythe, and we thought she’d be okay on her own with her training.”
“We believe that they killed her once they realized she wasn’t Winston’s wife,” Sanford adds.
“This only means that Blythe did leave a trail while passing through other towns. They might not know where she went, but they’re on her track. The thing is, we have to be careful so they don’t see us coming.”
“We can’t move like we’re planning a takedown,” I say.
“But what if we handle it like something else?”
Cass raises a brow.
“Like what? A reunion party?”
Sanford smirks.
“A trade.”
Malerick studies me, his expression calculating.
“And what exactly are we trading?”
I meet his gaze, my mind already moving ahead, mapping out what comes next.
“Something the Miami Syndicate wants. We’ll distract them, they’ll forget about Winston and . . .” Sanford just shrugs.
Cassian whistles under his breath.
“I like where this is going.”
I glance at Sanford.
“How fast can your people get eyes on his setup?”
“They already have.”
“Good.” I exhale slowly, tension coiling tight in my chest. Every part of me knows we have to make sure this is airtight or we’ll lose not only people, but Blythe.
Sanford leans forward, tapping the map on the table.
“We need to make this look real. If the Hollow Syndicate thinks they’re walking into a setup, they’ll burn everything and disappear.”
Cassian’s grin is sharp.
“Then . . . and this is just me. Why don’t we just focus on him, Winston? We give him exactly what he wants.”
I cross my arms. “Which is?”
Sanford doesn’t hesitate.
“Blythe.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Everything in me locks up.
The air shifts, heavy with a tension that tightens around my ribs like a noose.
I already know where this is going, and I fucking hate it.
“No.” My voice is steel.
“Not happening.”
Malerick rubs his temple like he expected my reaction.
“We’re not saying we use her as actual bait, Atlas. We just need to dangle something Winston can’t resist.”
Cassian leans against the table, spinning a pen between his fingers.
“We first distract the Hollow Syndicate with some intel of drugs or easy money they can make. They’ll probably leave Winston to get their mark. Then, we make Winston believe that Blythe is in some inn or a motel. Somewhere, he can storm in and grab her.”
My stomach knots.
“And when he gets there?”
Sanford’s expression darkens.
“When he does, we got him?—”
“And end this,” I finish for him.
“But will it be just him and a couple of men?”
Mal nods.
“If we remove the syndicate, yes. This might be the only way. We need to end this before Winston gets another chance.”
I exhale, slow and measured, trying to keep my voice steady.
“And what happens if they don’t take the bait?”
Sanford glances at Cassian.
Cass nods once. “We make it so they believe it. This isn’t our first rodeo.”
My fingers twitch.
I rake a hand through my hair, forcing my thoughts into order.
Finally, I nod once.
“Fine. But Blythe stays out of it.”
“You’re going to have to leave her with Hopper,” Malerick states.
“I’ll stay behind to protect them.”
I want to trust him, but can I trust him?
“I’ll defend her with my life,” he adds.
“Fine, but if anything happens to her . . . I’ll kill you,” I state.
“I wouldn’t expect less from you.” He nods.
“Go tell your woman that we have to leave. The sooner we’re there, the faster you all can start moving.”
When I arrive at our apartment, Blythe is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone in her hands.
Her face is blank, unreadable, but the tension in her shoulders tells me she’s already guessed something is happening.
She doesn’t look up as I step inside, but her voice is quiet.
“When are you leaving?”
I cock an eyebrow.
“How do you know I’m leaving?”
“Intuition,” she states.
“I?—”
“You’re leaving too,” Isay.
“Why?”
“It’ll be safer if you’re at the ranch?—”
“I’m not putting Hop, Nysa, and Maddy in danger.” Her voice cuts through my words before I can finish.
No hesitation. No cracks.
She means it.
I exhale, crossing the room.
When I crouch in front of her, resting my hands on her knees, she doesn’t look away.
Her gaze locks onto mine, almost challenging.
“You have to go,” I murmur.
“Stay safe. Keep our little one safe.”
Her jaw tightens.
“I could help you,” she says suddenly, her fingers curling into fists.
“I want to end this.”
“Babe—”
“You don’t trust me to be part of this.”
I flinch.
Because it’s not true.
Not exactly.
“That’s not?—”
“Yes, it is.” Her voice doesn’t rise, but there’s no softness to it.
No plea. Just fact. “You still see me as the girl who ran. The girl who was afraid. But, Atlas, I’m not just running anymore. I’m fighting. And this? This is my fight, too.”
I swallow hard.
I knew this was coming.
I just didn’t expect it now.
“I know you’ve been working hard and that you’re strong,” I reassure her.
“And I trust you.”
She exhales, slow but uneven, like she’s releasing more than just breath.
Then her hand lifts, fingertips grazing my jaw before settling against my cheek.
“Then let me help.”
Blythe has spent months reclaiming her life, piece by piece.
And if I try to behave like Winston did—by taking away her choices—then I’m no better than him.
I let a beat of silence stretch between us before I lower my hand to her stomach.
The warmth of her skin beneath my palm, the small movement I swear I can feel, twists something deep in my chest.
“The thing is, we’re not just fighting for you,” I murmur.
“We’re fighting for her. And I need to keep her safe. I trust you, but you need to think about her too.”
Blythe’s lips part like she wants to argue, but then she closes her mouth.
Her fingers drift to cover mine.
“You’re right,” she whispers.
“She comes first. The best way to protect her from him is to make sure he never gets close. Not even now.”
Relief washes through me, but it doesn’t loosen my grip on her.
If anything, it pulls me closer.
I brush my lips against her nose, then her mouth—slow and lingering.
A promise.
“After this, you can do anything you want,” I murmur against her lips.
“Even shopping for baby clothes?”
I smile just a little.
“We have to start the nursery.”
Her fingers slide up my chest, teasing the collar of my shirt.
“Maybe even buy a house,” she muses, “so we can have a big backyard?—”
“And—”
“And chickens, too,” she adds before I can finish.
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Anything you want.” I kiss her again, deeper this time, letting her taste the truth in my words.
“Just be a little more patient. One last push.”
“One last push,” she agrees.
And then I’m lifting her into my arms.
She gasps against my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair as I lower her onto the bed, pressing my body over hers.
The heat between us snaps, sharp and electric, like it’s been waiting for an excuse to ignite.
Her nails bite into my shoulders as I kiss her deeper, hungrily.
Her body arches into mine, hips meeting hips, heat sinking into every place we touch.
My hands slide up her sides, memorizing every curve, every inch of her, until she’s breathless beneath me, her thighs parting in invitation.
I groan against her lips, fighting the pull to take more, to lose myself in her completely.
Her hands slide beneath my shirt, fingers skimming over my stomach, sending heat spiraling through me.
She tilts her head, lips brushing along my jaw, and, fuck—I have to stop this before I lose the last bit of control I have left.
I pull back just enough to press my forehead to hers, breathing hard.
“We can’t,” I murmur.
Her lips are swollen, pupils dark.
“I know,” she whispers.
But she doesn’t stop running her fingers down my chest, slow and torturous.
“I just wanted to remind you what’s waiting for you after this.”
This is the first time she’s been this bold, and maybe she’s ready for more.
Though I can’t take any other steps.
Not yet. I let out a rough laugh, shaking my head as I try to calm the fuck down.
“Like I’d ever forget.”
She smiles, teasingly.
I kiss her once more—slow, deep, like a promise I fully intend to keep.
Then I push myself up because there’s a fight waiting for me.
And this time, I’m not just fighting for her.
I’m fighting for us.