Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
Zee
“Two double Negronis, and a cola with lime.”
The server recites our order, placing three glasses on the small round table.
Atlas thanks him, pulling me close, his arm wrapping around me. The two of us lean back on a cushioned bench overlooking the city from the rooftop terrace. The Saint Lawrence glimmers behind the large, moving Ferris wheel, the city abuzz below us.
“I got to give it to you, Atty.” Mo sits up on the other side of the table with a blanket pulled around her dress. “After everything you guys have been through, I wouldn’t judge you if you drank.”
It’s warm for a Canadian autumn, but as the sun sets, it’s starting to feel like things are finally shifting forward. Winter is on the horizon, and for once, the coldness doesn’t feel suffocating.
“There’s importance in clarity.” Atlas reaches for his cola.
Chatter from the packed bar surrounds us, blending with the shuffling of heels along the cobblestone below. Old Port is beautiful tonight, the city lights shimmering between old heritage buildings.
“Y'know, Zee,” Mo says, reaching for her Negroni. “They say if a man falls in love completely sober, it’s real.”
I laugh. “Yeah, well, he's a lil' insane.”
Atlas nudges me with his knee under the table as I reach for the glass of ruby red liquid. My mind flashes back to the last time I ordered one of these.
Mo groans. "Are you sober, now, too?" I arch a brow. "'Cause you're looking at your Negroni like it's poison." She leans closer, her cleavage bursting out of her tiny off-the-shoulder dress. She lowers her voice, squinting at her drink. “Would they do that?”
“Something tells me we don’t have to worry about that." I take the cold glass in my hand, holding it between us. My eyes move between the two people I’d trust with everything. “To surviving.”
Our glasses clink, Atlas’s gaze lingering on me from my peripheral. He leans in. “You don’t have to drink that.”
Pulling the drink to my lips, I tip it back into my mouth, the bittersweet taste washing over my tongue. I don’t need to wait to know that nothing will happen. And if it did, the guy beside me would do what he has to to make it right.
I sink into his hold.
I sink into heaven.
“Girl, you look so much better than the last time I saw you. How’d you manage back in Eastmount?” Mo narrows her eyes as if she just remembered who she’s sitting amongst. Killers. “Wait. What did you guys do to those men?”
“We negotiated.” I shrug.
Atlas smirks behind his glass, tipped to his lips.
His eyes dazzle under the setting sun, his one leg crossed over the other.
Relaxation suits him. So does his smile, those charming laugh lines making my stomach flutter.
I’ve seen more of his smile in the last twenty-four hours than I have the entire time I’ve known him. Still, he’s so unassuming.
Looking at him, you wouldn’t know what this man’s hands have done. What he’s seen. For example, I know that under that beige knit cardigan, he has pounds of muscles I’m ready to be under at any second.
“Negotiated?” Mo shifts her gaze between us. But like the first time I told her I’d done the unthinkable, she doesn’t look afraid. She looks curious. We have that in common. “Do you mean you threatened them?"
“We had a productive talk,” Atlas says, his hold on me tightening.
“God, you make blackmail sound like homework.” She brings her widening eyes to her glass. “Which is kinda terrifying.” Her head tilts to the side, as if she’s weighing an equation. “And kinda hot.”
Atlas and I laugh. Seeing the two of them together brings warmth to my chest, both my worlds colliding. My past and present.
My future.
“So, it’s true?” Mo asks, sinking back into her seat. “You’re taking my girl back to Eastmount?”
“My girl,” Atlas corrects. His calm, firm words send a jolt between my legs.
Mo’s hand comes to her chest, clutching invisible pearls.
My smile widens. “It’s time that part of the city had a restructure. Plus, Daddy Barrington's house could use a special touch."
"Please don't call him that." Atlas takes another sip of his cola.
Mo sighs before her eyes harden on Atlas. “Take care of her. Whatever you do."
Atlas nods. Firm. “Forever.”
His kiss lands on my exposed collar, my father’s blazer hanging around my shoulders. That warmth in my chest intensifies, my grip tightening on his knee.
Mo’s phone vibrates on the table, and she leans in, reading her screen.
“And now, it’s time to take care of me.” She stands up, downing her drink, and I’m assuming some guy has summoned her. “I’ll see you two next week.” She waves her polished fingers before moving towards the stairs, leading down from the patio. Then she leans back. "The bathrooms are nice here!"
My cheeks burn as she winks, disappearing to the floor below.
Once she's gone, I sink further into Atlas as he signals a server.
“The usual,” Atlas says, my head slowly turning to him.
The server nods without any other questions and heads to the bar at the side of the terrace.
I squint into his gaze. “You used to come here with him, didn't you?"
Atlas nods, gazing out at the other guests between us. Do we look as normal as they do? The two of us cuddled up next to each other like any couple on a date?
“Besties, huh?” I tease.
“He had good taste.”
On cue, a server comes back with two small glasses of amber liquid. He places it on the table between us before Atlas places one in my hand. He tips his head, letting me do the honours.
I pull mine to my nose, closing my eyes as if I’m trying to smell my father in the notes of wood and cinnamon. With Atlas watching my every move, I take a sip, charred oak and vanilla on my tongue. It’s smoother than I imagined. Sweeter.
“Thought you’d like it.” Atlas doesn’t wait for me to confirm. He just knows. He slides his glass further to me. “Drink one for him, too.”
I smirk. “Is that an apology for fucking his daughter?”
Atlas blinks. “Should I be sorry?”
Heat stings my cheeks. I lean closer, lowering my voice as if everyone can see the gap between us. “Is it that wrong?”
“Does it feel wrong?"
It doesn’t. "You sure you want to hitch yourself to a girl still figuring it all out?"
He leans over, his lips meeting my forehead. Warmth spreads through me. Grounding me. "You’re the one thing I’m certain of.”
Tightness fills my chest, two feelings colliding. “On one hand, I wish I had met you sooner.” Lifting my head, I stare into those steady brown eyes. “But also, I think we met at exactly the right time.”
“Love is not time’s fool."
I almost choke on my next sip of whiskey, my head snapping up. "Shakespeare?”
He chuckles. “Your father would say that stuff all the time when he spoke about your mother.”
My smile fades. “You knew him more than I ever will.”
“There’s a lot to catch you up on.” His arm tightens around me some more. “So, stick around.”
That reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask. “Atlas, did you make those personal files? The ones you gave Clifford and his men?"
“Your father left a gift. I didn't know it when I found it in the closet. When things started getting intense, I held onto it."
"Your timing is impeccable." My brows furrow as Atlas’s words linger. This was always about more than Emery’s unhinged craving for power.
“He knew too much. He was going to use it.” The words fall out of my mouth before I take another drink, my back slumping in my seat. “That’s why they killed him.”
Atlas's finger lands under my chin. “And you kept him alive.”
My eyes catch his. “We did.”
He leans closer, our lips touching as he brings me to heaven once more.
Power is a ruthless bitch.
It's reckless.
Dangerous.
And the timing? That’s the tough part.
You never know when it can slip away.
Placing Azalea’s between the graves of my father and mother, I wonder if they felt powerful before they died. They didn’t give up what they loved out of fear, and if my bloodline follows that? There’s not much I need to worry about.
Heat prickles my neck as I rise from my crouch, the warmth settling on my skin. I look around the graves of all those who died at the hands of The Establishment. It should feel scary. It doesn't. It feels safe.
Moving over to Liv's grave, I place another bouquet. Then one right next to hers. Alaina's. I have one more left for Reggie, but when I look over at Emery's grave, a chill spirals through my chest.
It was Atlas’s idea to place him in the Family graveyard. He wanted to remember where his hands have been. We placed the site in the middle of campus, where the Manor used to be. That's after I took some money to demolish what that place stood for.
We don’t need a fraternity like that. Not anymore.
Not with me in charge.
As I walk through campus to the Insectarium, it’s clear that power comes with perks. Moving down the path, I spot reminders of why I'm here, of why I chose this path.
A woman pulls a guy against her as she kisses him on the field. Another young woman in spiked boots and neon hair stomps across the field.
I don’t want the control that Emery had.
I’m not that fragile.
Heat pricks my neck again as I approach the insectarium, the sun setting on the spring eve. If I’m on time, Atlas should be finishing up training the new employee. Then, we can do some of our own work together.
This weekend marks a big occasion. I passed my first set of exams.
To celebrate, we're leaving Eastmount for the weekend. I'm driving ahead to the Eastern Townships, and once I'm there, all communication ends.
Atlas will have to find me.
My stomach rolls with excitement, scenarios building in my head. It could be on a dark road. Or in a forest. We’ve had long months together, rebuilding Eastmount. That doesn't mean we still can't have some fun.
“Zee, you’re just in time,” Lola greets me when I’m in the warmth of the Insectarium, butterflies fluttering above. “We just hired a new girl. You’d like her, we found her in front of The Village metro. She kicked a man for asking for a blowjob when she was panhandling.”
My smile widens. “I like the sound of her already.”
Lola approaches me, wrapping me in a big hug. She's the aunt I never had.
Once it was safe for Lola to return, Atlas revealed she wasn't dead. And we worked to bring her home. I didn't think she'd come back, but I'm really happy she did. She makes up a big part of this new family I have.
“Any relation?” I ask Lola, admiring her attire. An off-the-shoulder knitted dress, in a deep, dark ruby.
“None.” She smiles.
“Perfect.”
I’m still deadset on making Eastmount different. Loyalty matters, but the rest doesn’t. Hell, you have an easier chance if you look like me or come from where I did. From nothing. You never know who people really are on the inside. Some just might have royal blood and a strong heart.
“I’ll send you her details, but tonight, I need a drink," Lola says, grabbing her purse from her desk. "Coming? No funny business, I promise.”
“Can’t tonight." There's no way I'm passing up this mini-vacay with Atlas. "But I’ll take you up on that when I'm back." We say goodbye with another hug, Lola congratulating me on my exams.
When she’s gone, I move into Atlas's office, looking for the bag he mentioned in his text. A brown duffel that he says is very important.
It smells like him in here. Clean. Oaky. Dangerously clean.
The lights go out.
My body stills.
Heat spreads across my neck.
I wait, but I don’t hear anything.
No footsteps. No thuds.
Opening the office door, I call out. “Atlas?”
Nothing.
I smirk, taking my time walking through the dark Insectarium. Once I'm in the bioluminescent room, goosebumps rise on my skin.
There's something in the distance.
A figure, near an emergency light.
My feet stop.
My pulse stutters.
My thighs tingle.
It takes one step towards me.
Then another.
My body stiffens as he gets closer.
And closer.
“Breathe.”
That voice rolls through me as my breath steadies, a warm comfort blooming in my chest. “I am.”
“Good.” He takes another step closer, my body buzzing alive.
A flame appears between us, and I catch a glimpse of his focused gaze. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
“Now, touch yourself.”