Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Present day…
Lily ran toward the open front door of her rental house.
She could see the shattered doorbell camera, broken and smashed into pieces on the narrow porch.
The lock on the door had been broken, too, apparently banged to hell and back, and a discarded hammer—the hammer from the small shed in the back of the property, a hammer Lily had used just days before—had been dropped near the door.
Her hands flew out to push the door open.
“Nope.” Atlas’s arms curled around her stomach, and he hauled her back. “Did we learn anything from the explosion tonight? Let’s not run straight into traps. Don’t particularly want to watch you burn in front of my eyes.”
She struggled in his grip. “I have to get inside!”
Again… “Nope.” He lifted her off her feet, completely ignored her struggles, and carried her back toward the limo. Where he basically hurled her inside as if she weighed nothing and tossing her was the easiest thing in the world.
She landed on the seat and immediately surged forward.
But Atlas blocked her exit. “Do I honestly look like I will allow you to die tonight?”
“It’s my house!”
“No, technically, it’s mine. I own it. You are the tenant who broke the terms of her lease when she started painting and doing repair projects without authorization.”
“What?” Since when did he own it? When?
“That’s probably like check or checkmate. Me, owning your place. Didn’t see that coming, did you? So much for being the all-knowing Lily.”
“Atlas.” She’d never claimed to be all-knowing. And when had he bought her house?
All traces of humor fled. “You’re not going near the house right now. So get over it. Desmond is calling the cops. After tonight’s very, shall we say…hot events, I want a bomb squad checking the property before you get anywhere near it.” Flat. Hard.
And…
Smart, dammit. Smart. She should never have just run inside. The perp had made it clear her house had been invaded. Thus, the broken lock and smashed doorbell camera. Correction—Atlas’s house. Only it had not belonged to him when she moved in. Lily was certain of that fact.
“Thinking more clearly now? Excellent. We won’t have long before the cops arrive.” He climbed into the limo. Slammed the door after him. “Tell me, Lily, what is inside that the cops should not discover?”
“I have no idea what you mean.” It was good that he was inside the limo. If a shooter was out there, he would have made too big of a target.
A shooter? So now you’re worried about gunfire? Her hands twisted in her lap. The punishment killer hadn’t shot victims before, but, as she’d told Atlas, there were plenty of ways to punish someone. And killers evolved. The most dangerous ones always evolved.
Everything was getting all twisted and confused. She needed to think through all of the events from the night.
She also needed her files. Her laptop. Her…
I need my mother’s diary.
“I will ask you one more time, sweets, but please don’t play games with me. We don’t have time for them right now.” A beat of silence. “What is inside that the cops can’t find? I can’t help you—I can’t protect you—if I don’t know what I am supposed to hide.”
Her breath sawed in and out. “My research is in there. My laptop. Files on the adult children of serial killers. Most of that is public information. But I just…some of that material I discovered on my own. Some of the individuals don’t even know who their parents were—are.”
“Well, that’s fun. Who doesn’t love to get the shocking news that mommy dearest or daddy dearest is a sadistic killer?”
“I didn’t tell them. I haven’t confronted anyone. You are the first for me.” Though her friend Sloane was tracking others.
“Sorry, but the question has to be asked, how can you be so certain you are right? What if you tell someone the wrong news about a serial killing parent?”
“I am thorough.”
“Oh, well, that clears it up. I mean, if you’re thorough about it.” He looked back over his shoulder at the house. “Tick tock. What can’t the cops find? We both know you have something you want hidden. You were far too desperate to get in that house.”
Yes, she had been desperate. Panicked. “A diary,” she whispered.
His head swiveled toward her. “Yours?”
“Yes.” No. She wasn’t supposed to lie to him. The lie had just slipped out. “It’s…personal information.” That was true. “Information that I don’t want others to see.”
“Where is the diary?”
“Underneath the loose board in the bedroom. The board two over from the nightstand. To the right.” Her breath came faster.
“The cops will not search there. They won’t think to yank up a board, but…
” But I’m worried. They wouldn’t look under the board unless there was a reason to search there.
A reason as in, someone else had ripped up the board already. Someone—the intruder.
But in order for that to happen…
The intruder would have needed to be watching me very closely.
She swallowed. “That diary can’t reach the cops.” It would be disastrous.
“So you’ve been that naughty, hmm, Lily?”
Yes. “Atlas…”
“Your research and your diary. Those are the important items inside. Got it. Anything else? Anything else my nimble fingers should grab when I have the opportunity?”
Nothing that could jeopardize her.
But that diary…
If it fell into the wrong hands…
Her house of cards could come crashing down. “Just the diary. It’s what I need.”
“You saved my life. The least I can do is retrieve a book for you.”
She grabbed his hand and held on tightly. “But not until it’s safe. Not until we are sure it’s not a trap.”
“Ah, sweets, you’re saying I’m more valuable than a book? I am touched.”
“Atlas…”
His lips brushed over hers. “I’ll get it when the moment is right. Trust me.”
Trust…
Trust would be necessary in their relationship.
I have to trust you in order to fuck you.
She stared at the flashing, blue lights. Nearly eight a.m. Exhaustion pulled at her even as the sun rose higher in the sky. She was long past the point of running on adrenaline. Now, Lily knew she was running on fumes. Wasn’t that the old saying?
Because it was Atlas and because of what had happened before, a full force of cops had rushed to the little house on the cul-de-sac. The bomb sniffing dogs were brought out. The home thoroughly searched.
No bomb was found.
But apparently, something bad had been discovered. Because the cops had been extra intent as they systematically examined every inch of the property.
She hadn’t been allowed inside yet, but Atlas had. Atlas and his magic reach and his new ownership of her rental. He’d been escorted in by two uniforms while she waited outside.
Her hands twisted nervously together.
Desmond was at her side. Silent. Steady. Intense.
Carl waited near the limo. Just as steady and intense. Desmond had introduced her to Carl while she’d been waiting for the madness at her house to settle down.
As for Atlas…he appeared in her doorway, his hands loose at his sides. His expression was extra grim as he began to march toward her.
Oh, no. There was no sign of the diary. She felt heat stinging her cheeks. She should have destroyed that diary so long ago. Why the hell hadn’t she? Why?
Because it was the only proof I had that she actually loved me.
Too bad it held all sorts of other proof, too.
Atlas came right up to her. Desmond immediately stepped away to give them privacy.
“It’s bad,” Atlas said.
Bad?
He pulled her into his arms. “Mission accomplished,” he breathed into her ear.
She shuddered, and relief made her lightheaded.
“It’s okay. I got it. It’s tucked inside my sweatshirt. No one ever saw me take it, I promise. Now let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll describe the fucking mess when I get you safely in the limo.”
She eased back. One step. Their bodies no longer touched. Her eyes flew to his face. Though she very much didn’t like the fucking mess part, she had to say, “I could kiss you right now,” she told him.
“Hold the thought.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Dammit.”
Uniformed cops were coming toward them. That tracked because there had to be more questions, and there was—
Wait. She’d just caught sight of someone else. An FBI agent that she recognized. One that had her stiffening because FBI Special Agent Gage Emerick was not a fan of hers. In fact, quite the opposite.
I know what you did. I just can’t prove it.
He’d certainly gotten to Dallas far faster than she’d anticipated.
“What’s wrong?” Atlas asked as he felt her tension. Then, upon spotting the man heading toward them with a determined stride, “Who the fuck is that joker?”
An FBI agent. A man who thinks I’m a killer. And…
Her ex.
No time to explain all of that, though, because Gage had closed in too quickly.
“Lily.” Gage stopped about two feet away from her. Wrinkled suit. Finger-combed hair. She recognized the signs of someone who had been traveling all night. “I hear you’ve had quite the exciting twelve hours.” His gaze raked her.
She inclined her head toward him. “Being abducted doesn’t count as exciting. It counts as terrifying.”
“Were you terrified?” He flashed his ID and waved away the local authorities. “FBI. I’ll be talking to the vic. Give us some time.”
She was aware of Atlas shifting his body closer to her. Atlas lifted his hand, and Desmond immediately began walking back their way.
The limo driver remained near the vehicle.
“Weird to think of you as terrified.” A slight, considering pause. “Because I wasn’t sure anything could scare you.” Gage smiled at her. That perfect, pearly white grin. Then he reached out and put his arms around her. He hugged her, the embrace hard, and Lily stood statue-still in his arms.
“Excuse me.” Atlas’s arctic voice. “I’m not exactly an expert in these situations, but is embracing a vic the way to go? Especially when she damn well does not want the embrace?”
Gage let her go.
Lily immediately backed up. No, not backed up. She edged toward Atlas. Why did I do that?