Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Sugar Skull
Her words linger in my head, a cup of warm tea, cradled in my hands.
Home.
That’s what Zee's become.
I felt it when I saw her.
And now I’m banned from it.
Banned from her.
I’ll respect her wishes, but I’ll keep my vow.
My eyes stay fixed on Lola, her arms and legs tied to her dining table in this old house at the edge of the neighbourhood.
The soft creams and pale blue decor clash with the tension in my chest, doing nothing to soften this moment.
I’d rather be drinking one of her finest bottles of scotch from the bar cart at the end of the room. But I’ve already given into one addiction.
A groan comes from the table, and Lola finally moves.
“Water?”
Her body stills.
This should be the point where she starts piecing things together.
She pulls on her arms, the rope keeping them close to the table.
“Atlas, is this necessary?”
Grabbing the glass of water beside me, I walk over to the table. She glares at me before she rolls her eyes and opens her mouth. I tip the water in and watch as she swallows, her body settling against the wood.
“You love her."
My muscles tense at Lola's words.
“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t.” Then she laughs. “Or you’re planning something big, and if you are, then you’re an idiot.”
“What do you know?”
“You know I don’t know anything.”
“Lola, I’m being nice." I lean against the table, taking another sip of tea as my sobriety hangs by a fucking thread. “Don’t make this harder for both of us. For what it’s worth, I actually like you.”
“I like you too, Atty," she sighs, her voice softening. “I didn’t forget that you helped me. And Barry.”
“I won’t do it again. You betrayed us.”
Her brows lower. “By trying to bring Zee to Father? Atty, it was at his request.”
The walls close in. “You should’ve told me.”
“I didn’t know you were in this deep. I didn’t know your task. I thought Kon would—” Lola stalls, her eyes widening. “Atlas...” She says my name like I’m some unhinged psychopath. “What did you do with Kon?”
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
“Jesus, Atty.” She blinks, confusion in the way she wrinkles her forehead. “Is this about Barry?”
“It’s so much more than that.” Walking over to the armchair in front of the dining room, I take the envelope from the table next to it. “In your car are your packed things and a plane ticket. Don’t come back.”
“Yeah, I can’t,” she says. “Thanks to you.”
Zee
Ease isn’t something I know.
It wasn’t easy when my mother died.
It wasn’t easy moving to Eastmount.
It wasn’t easy seeing Lola’s life dwindle before my eyes.
The fucked up truth? Saying goodbye to Atlas felt worse.
My heart still twists when I think about it.
It took me longer than I anticipated to pull the camera out of that book again. And I keep peering into the forest for that shadow.
I thought Atlas would give me something different, and he did. Comfort. Understanding.
Sheer fucking pleasure.
He also left me with more questions that choke me more by the day.
Fucking with Atlas only made things worse.
He turned me into a monster.
You already were.
Lola’s body flashed in my nightmares all night. So did Kon’s, Liv’s, and Reggie's.
Is it bad that Alas’s body flashed in my mind, too?
Not his dead body, but his warm, sculpted figure on mine. His arms wrapped around me, his body pressed so close to mine it felt like we were one.
I'm kidding myself. We’ll never be good with secrets between us. Still, part of me expects Atlas to call or text.
I kept checking my phone all night and morning. I even wrote and erased messages begging him to explain himself.
He sent nothing.
And my emptiness deepened.
With Liv, Kon and Lola all gone, my chances of getting any answers are slimmer than ever. So I’ll apply what I've learned. I'll go back to what I know.
I’ll rely on myself.
A twig snaps under my sneaker as I crouch behind a tree near the Insectarium. A branch pokes through my sweater, leaves in my face, my gaze focused on a certain window.
I can see a small glimpse of Atlas in his office from here, the blinds half-open.
I ignore the swirl in my stomach as I watch him move further into the space, settling into the seat behind his desk.
Heat blooms in my chest, a shiver racing down my spine.
Is this how Atlas feels watching me?
Does he feel the same flicker of guilt circling my insides? Does he feel that same spark of desire?
There’s something deeply intimate about this. The movements he makes when he thinks no one else sees, the way he looks so much more raw. The building blocks my full view, but I have an answer to that.
Instead of packing my bags last night, I used my keycard to sneak into the Insecatrium.
Taking a page out of Atlas’s handbook, I positioned a couple of new cameras around his office. When I finally looked at my paycheque, it was more than I thought and thank fuck because these babies weren’t cheap.
It wasn’t easy, but doable. Just two of them would give me a good view of him and anything he looks at on his screen.
Tapping a security icon on my phone reveals two feeds. One in front of Atlas and one behind.
I thought he’d be doing some secret work, but instead, he gets comfortable, putting his feet up on his desk while staring at the screen in front of him.
He looks focused.
Deeply focused.
I zoom in on his screen, a pang hitting my chest.
He’s watching me.
Except it’s not me out here in the chilly forest. It’s me back at home.
I looped the feed.
I’m no tech guru, but I am observant and easily inspired. I just needed a video and a couple of articles.
A buzz fills my chest knowing it worked.
Atlas’s body stills.
My breath stops.
It’s not like he can see me.
But… does he know?
Try keeping a secret from a stalker. It’s as hard as holding smoke in your hands.
My skin heats when he looks back at the door.
It’s unlocked, cracked open.
Was he hoping I’d come back? That I’d visit? That I’d actually want to speak with him after—oh, wait.
A shaky gasp leaves me.
Is he for real?
Atlas rubs his hand over his crotch, leaning back in his chair as he stares at the feed on the camera.
What I looped is a video of me lying on the sofa. Reading. Nothing else. I'm not nude. I'm not in any suggestive positions.
What about that makes him want to touch himself?
A wave of heat flushes over me as Atlas reaches into his pants, pulling out that thick, girthy cock.
The one that, right now, I kinda miss.
My jaw hangs as he spits in his palm before he wraps his big hand around his hard shaft. Spit builds in my mouth, a throb between my legs as he starts stroking himself.
It’s so … mesmerizing, the way he moves his hand along his shaft. And the sounds he makes? That soft, deep growl fills my headphones, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.
“Zee…” he says my name, pumping himself faster.
I’m so fucking tempted to let my hands wander, right here, as I watch him fuck his hand while watching me.
He sighs, sinking further into his seat as he lifts his hips, thrusting into his palm. “Yes, Angel.”
“Fuuuck me,” I mutter, my heart pounding with each thrust.
His pace quickens, his breath shaking in my ear. He grips his thigh, his head falling back. When he lifts his shirt, his hard abs tighten as he aims his cock at his chest.
“Fuck, Zeeeee,” he groans.
Then he lets it all out.
His grip tightens as he pumps himself until ropes of cum land on his hard abs.
“Holy shit…” It’s not the last time he does it.
He comes about three times to a looping video of me, and it makes it so hard to ignore how wet it is between my legs.
After the third, he sits there, like he’s savouring his release, like he’s savouring me.
Then he reaches into the drawer behind his desk and pulls out a piece of fabric.
Wait.
Are those my panties?
He wipes himself with them, my jaw hanging lower. When he's all cleaned up, he returns them to the drawer. With a clear of his throat, he gets up, closes his office door and leaves.
I'm still wet, a tingle on my skin as I watch him exit the Insectarium.
Wake up, Zee.
I let out a deep breath, reminding myself of my task as Atlas heads down the path to the rest of the campus.
Planting my high-tops in the dirt, I keep very still as he passes where I'm standing. He's far enough, but I can't risk it.
His feet slow.
My breath hitches.
I take a step back, further into the trees as quietly as I can.
Like he can feel my eyes on him, Atlas looks around, his head turning slowly like an owl.
Is this how I looked to him? All those times I felt that heat on my neck? All those times I saw a shadow?
He strokes his chin, taking one last look around before he continues down the path.
My shoulders fall as I brace my hand against the tree, counting my luck. But I wait until he’s further down the path before I emerge from the trees.
Stalking takes skill.
You need to be quiet, patient and observant. When you’re out in the open like this, it gets harder.
If a student sees me ducking behind columns, trees and buildings, they’ll call the cops. So I keep a fair distance and my notebook in hand, pretending to read when students come too close.
My heart races, my palms sweaty as I move with him through campus. It’s not until he reaches that familiar path that my feet come to a full stop.
Eastmount Manor.
Liv’s body flashes in my mind. So does Reggie’s.
My stomach churns, something bubbling in my gut.
This can’t be where this ends. I have to keep going. I have to keep following him.
What if someone sees you?
What if Atlas notices?
What if it’s too dangerous?
What if you’re caught?
Resting against a nearby tree, I close my eyes and name the sounds.
Birds chirping.
Laughter in the distance.
Footsteps.
My eyes reopen at the last sound, my head whipping towards the path.
Young men approach the Manor in dark blazers. They stop, lighting up cigarettes far away enough that they won't notice me. At least not right away.
Glancing back at Atlas, he's at the front door.
My fists clench as I straighten my back.
If I’m going to make a move, I need to do it now.