Prologue
Atlas
I’m sitting at my desk, swirling the last sip of whiskey in my glass.
This is my third glass within the last hour.
Something to take the edge off while I brace myself for the storm that is about to hit me.
I contemplate refilling my drink again when I finally hear her.
I knew this would happen when she found out, I just didn’t expect her to be this mad.
Her footsteps echo through the house as she storms her way to my office.
I don’t know how a woman her size walks that loud.
There’s a clatter and something that sounds a hell of a lot like glass shattering.
It’s followed by a muttered curse before she’s throwing the door open with enough force to knock the picture of us off the wall.
“A fucking TRACKER! Really Atlas? You have that little trust in me that you put a tracker in my phone?”
“That tracker has nothing to do with trust, Maze. You know better than that.”
“Right, this is just another one of your stupid power trips. You can’t handle the fact that I don’t bow to your every command. I’m not a dog, Atlas. I will not be your pet or some puppet you can play with. You don’t get to control me! I’m done! I can’t keep playing these games with you.”
“Then leave, Maizyn! Control is the only thing I have in this world. I don’t need you or your chaos fucking up my life anymore!”
She flinched as if my words had slapped her.
Her eyes began to water as she turned around, storming back out the same way she came.
I almost took the words back, but I didn’t.
I wasn’t too worried about it. It’s not like what I said mattered; she’ll come crawling back later, she always does.
She just needs some time to cool down. It’s not the first time she’s been pissed at me, she just likes reacting as chaotically as she possibly can.
She will probably call later to apologize for overreacting.
Maizyn
I speed out of his driveway, heading towards the closest bar. I’ll show him the chaos he claims me to be.
My entire life has been crazy, that’s where I thrive. This would never work out anyways. He is far too controlling for my free spirit.
My ex tried to control everything I did and I refuse to let another man think I’ll be a puppet. So I am going to do what I do best… get blackout drunk and decide what to do next.
Pulling into an empty parking spot as I arrive at the bar, I throw the car in park and make my way inside. The bartender must’ve seen the wild look in my eyes because he started lining up rows of shot glasses before I even reached the counter.
“What’s your poison? You look like you’re gonna need it.”
Slamming Atlas’s black Amex onto the bar, “Tequila. Lots of tequila and keep the tab open.”
The least he could do was pay to get me drunk.
The bartender keeps trying to make conversation, but I’m not really in the mood for half-assed small talk. My ability to pretend I care disappeared after my third double shot of tequila. At this point, unless he’s placing another shot in front of me, I act like he’s not even there.
Maybe my self-pity and self-destruction will be my own demise.
I replay the argument over and over again in my head. He wouldn’t tell me why he put the tracker on my phone. If it wasn’t about trust, then why wouldn’t he tell me the reason?
Whatever.
It’s not like his reasoning would even matter. The tracker is there either way, and Atlas made it very clear that I was too much for him.
As I swallowed my eighth shot, a brilliant idea came to me. If Atlas didn’t want me ruining his life, then I’ll grant him his wish.
I won’t come back this time.
We can’t keep doing this back and forth. It was never good for either of us.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket to send a text to Atlas. It’s a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be.
I stare at the screen longer than necessary because I honestly fucking swear, the letters on the keyboard kept moving.
Between the double vision and swirling letters, it takes about twenty minutes for me to type it out. At least, I think I typed it correctly.
Maze
u don’t wat me so I wn’t bothr u agin
I attempt to hit send and sneak out while the bartender has his back turned.
I wasn’t closing out my tab; they could keep Atlas’s credit card.
I didn’t want it, and he would just try to track it to find me.
Stumbling to my car is an even bigger pain in the ass task to complete.
It takes five tries to unlock the car door, but I managed to get it unlocked.
I sink into the driver’s seat with a big sigh and attempt to start the car. It’s a hassle for sure. It’s like I’m looking through a pair of beer goggles.
Thankfully, this car was push-to-start, or I wouldn’t be leaving this parking lot.
Driving probably isn’t the best idea, but why would I care?
It’s not like anyone cares about me. Hell… I’m not really sure if I even care about myself.
Peeling away from the bar, I start heading away from town. The further away from him I get, the less likely I’ll be tempted to contact him again. It’s time to break the cycle.
Atlas will never change and it seems like neither will I. This is the only way forward that my drunken brain can think of.
I get a few miles up the road when I remember about the tracker on my phone. If I keep it he will know where I’m at. Without hesitating for a second longer, I retrieve my phone from my back pocket and launch it out the window.
The crunch of it breaking when it hits the ground is pretty satisfying.
Damn, I’m going to miss my phone.
No social media is going to suck, but cold turkey is the only way to make sure we’ll stay out of each other’s lives.
Eventually I’ll need to get a burner phone or something.
The kind that’s hard to trace. If he wants me back, I’m going to make it as hard as possible on him. I refuse to run back to him this time.
Atlas doesn’t always get to win.
My vision continues to get worse the further I drive.
How much did I drink again?
There were too many road lines in front of me to tell which lane was the correct one anymore. Suddenly, the road gets very bumpy, and the car skids to a stop when I hit the bottom of a ditch.
Oops, maybe I am too drunk to be driving.
Laughing, I unbuckle my seatbelt and maneuver myself out of the car. Not sure if it’s because I’m drunk, but my body feels fine. Nothing hurts as far as I can tell.
The damage to the car doesn’t look bad from what I can see, but what do I know? I’m too drunk to even stay on the road. I already forgot that amazing plan I had back at the bar, but it was too late to turn around now.
I’m so fucking stupid.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Why can’t I have normal reactions just once in my life?
You know, talking would’ve been the normal way to deal with this, but I decided I was going to run away!
Fuck it.
He was right, all I do is mess shit up. I will get far away from here one way or another. He has a life, and I don’t fit into it. I never did.
He didn’t want me. He didn’t NEED me.
I won’t apologize this time for being who I am.
I was too much for him and I refuse to let anyone clip my wings ever again.
No amount of love was worth diminishing what little light I kept trapped inside my ribs. If they can’t handle me at my worst, I refuse to water myself down to be loved. I choose me this time.
If someone else won’t pick me, I’ll pick myself.
Standing here doing nothing isn’t going to get me anywhere. I start to walk, not certain if it’s the right direction, but I stopped caring.
I walk for about forty-five minutes until I arrive at a little corner store. I have no clue where I was at this point, but I couldn’t walk much further.
Stepping inside, I grab a few snacks for the rest of my trip, then walk to the check-out counter to pay for my items.
As she hands me my receipt, I finally get the courage to ask her what I came in to ask.
“Hey… I’m so sorry to bother you, but is there any chance you could call me a taxi? My um car… broke down, just up the road, and I’m just trying to get to a hotel nearby until I can get it fixed.”
“Yeah. No worries, hun. If you want to sit outside, they should be here in about six minutes.”
“Thank you so much! I really appreciate it.”
I exhale slowly as I sit on the curb outside waiting for the taxi to arrive. My head is swimming with thoughts that are too fast to grasp.
Where the hell am I going?
What should I do next?
The beep of a horn startles me from my thoughts.
Well shit. I hope he wasn’t waiting too long. I didn’t even hear him pull up. I give the man a sheepish wave, brushing my pants off, before climbing inside.
“Where to, miss?”
With no plan in place and being too drunk to think straight, I retort the first thing that came to mind.
“The first hotel across the state line.”
The rest I’ll figure out once I sober up. He gives me a quick glance through the review mirror but doesn’t comment on anything, before putting the car in drive and taking off.
The driver keeps trying to make conversation, but I ignore him. Not to be malicious, but I don’t have the energy to put in the effort.
I’m spiraling, I know that.
I can spot the warning signs a mile away by now. Everything is becoming too much again– The emotions, the regret– all of it.
We passed a road sign stating that the state line was five miles away, and my bravado crumbled.
I start reaching for my phone, feeling myself caving. I let out an exaggerated sigh when I remember it’s currently lying shattered on the side of the road somewhere.
What a great fucking idea that was. I can’t help but roll my eyes at my own stupidity.
Maybe the driver would let me use his phone?
Only one way to find out.
“Hey, Sir? Could I possibly use your phone to make a call? I seemed to have left mine, I would make it quick, I promise.”
He doesn’t even hesitate before handing it to me. “Here, take all the time that you need.”