9. Kienna
KIENNA
The siren’s wail rips through the stillness of Atlas’s fortress of a home, the sharp scream signaling the end of our sanctuary.
“Stay here, Kienna,” comes Atlas’s authoritative command. I’m wrapped up in blankets, holding them against me like a shield.
He moves with a commanding precision, his frame silhouetted as he gathers his weapons. Atlas is a man carved out of steel and instinct. He isn’t just reacting; he’s orchestrating the chaos.
“But–”
“Promise me,” Atlas says in a softer tone as he steps up next to the bed. He tucks the knife he was holding in his vest, then reaches out to brush his fingers against my cheek. “Promise me you’ll stay inside, angel. I would lose my mind if anything happened to you.”
“But, it’s dangerous,” I reply, my voice weak as fear creeps into my bones.
“Yes,” he confirms, not trying to dismiss my concerns. Atlas cups my cheek, turning my gaze toward him. “It’s dangerous, but I’ve had years, decades, even, of training. Plus, I’ve never had something more precious to protect.”
My bottom lip quivers, but I blink back the tears stinging my eyes. I don’t want Atlas to be worried about me and distracted from the mission. Leaning into his warm, calming presence, I nuzzle my cheek further into his hand and let out a steady breath. “I promise I’ll stay here,” I whisper.
“Good girl,” Atlas praises, leaning down to press his lips to my forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
With that, my beastly bodyguard turns on his heel and slinks into the shadows. I sit in bed for all of two minutes before I have to move. I won’t go outside, but I have to work out some of this manic energy.
I crack my knuckles in a nervous gesture, then pace in front of the fireplace. Mr. Kit-Kat scuttles over to me from his hiding spot under the kitchen table and rubs up against my legs.
“You’re okay, sweet boy,” I coo as I scoop him up. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Kit-Kat curls up in my arms, only to tense and jump out of them when a loud thump sounds from outside. I watch him get settled in his shelter under the table, satisfied that he’ll be okay once the chaos is over.
“Just a little longer,” I tell my cat as much as myself. I pray that’s true.
My pulse is so loud in my ears, I don’t hear the floorboards creak behind me. I don’t even sense the intruder until a shadow looms, blocking out the light. I spin around, and the breath leaves my lungs in a sharp, painful gust. My father.
He looks unhinged, his expensive suit disheveled, his blue eyes darting around the room with a desperate, hollow intensity. My stomach churns and I feel like I might throw up the longer I look at this cruel stranger.
"Kienna, please, you have to listen—" he starts, the apology already falling flat. It sounds more like a rehearsed line than a plea.
"Listen to what?" I snap, my voice trembling with a rage I didn't know I possessed. "The lies about your double life? The second family? The money you funneled while you sat there and watched me starve?"
“You have to understand–”
“Oh, I understand alright. I understand that you’re a selfish, shallow, evil man who never loved me or–”
He lunges before I can finish. My father’s fingers bite into my wrist like iron bands, yanking me around until my back is pressed against his chest. I’m about to scream, but his hand clamps over my mouth, the callouses of his palm rough and suffocating.
I muffle out a cry and attempt to twist out of his embrace, but my dad is stronger. A flash of orange blurs across my vision, and then my father yelps. Mr. Kit-Kat hisses back and bites his leg, but my dad isn’t deterred.
He begins to drag me toward the back of the house, with Kit-Kat still attached to his leg. As much as I love my cat’s loyalty, I don’t want him to get hurt.
A thunderous crash at the back door stops my dad cold. My heart is beating out of my chest, my pulse pounding out a staccato rhythm behind my eyes. Is it the Shadow Syndicate? Did they breach the perimeter like my father did?
All thoughts cease when I hear the familiar sound of Atlas’s boots against the hardwood floor. He’s stomping my way, but he stops short when the cold, hard steel of a pistol is jammed against my temple.
My world narrows down to the dark, lethal calm in Atlas’s eyes.
He exudes a control that makes the room feel impossibly small.
Slowly, deliberately, he lays his gun on the floor and raises his palms, a gesture of total surrender.
My father is shaking, his arm trembling against my throat where he’s nearly choking me while digging the gun painfully into my head.
I’m paralyzed by the sight of Atlas—so close, yet separated by a divide of life and death.
The conversation between them is a whirlwind of barked out words I can barely process through the tears blurring my vision.
I only know one thing: Atlas is moving. One careful, measured step after another, closer and closer.
He interrupts my father’s rant, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the static.
"Kienna," he says, his gaze locked on mine. "Close your eyes. Run."
I don't think; I obey. I feel my father’s grip loosen for a fraction of a second as Atlas pounces. I sprint, my legs moving on pure adrenaline until I reach the far side of the room. A gunshot deafens me, followed by a silence so profound it feels like the end of the world.
I turn, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces, my mind already mourning Atlas.
But as I rush forward, the nightmare shifts.
My father is face down on the floor, his wrists and ankles bound tight.
Atlas is standing over him, his chest heaving, his eyes searching me for injuries.
My father is out cold, a bruise forming at his temple.
"He’s not dead," Atlas says, his voice rough. "Just unconscious. If you want him gone, just say the word."
I look at the man who betrayed me and then at the man who would burn the world to keep me safe. I shake my head, as the first round of tears starts spilling over my cheeks. “Then I would be no better than him or the men chasing him.”
“Come here, love,” Atlas murmurs, resting his hand on the small of my back. He guides me away from my father on the floor and toward the main bathroom.
Mr. Kit-Kat follows us from his hiding spot down the hall and bounces on a stack of freshly folded towels. He deserves it for risking his safety today.
Atlas turns on the water in the tub, then faces me.
“Take a warm, relaxing bath,” Atlas says softly before kissing my temple.
His lips press against the same spot the gun was jammed just a few minutes ago.
I know he feels it, too. Atlas stays there, breathing me in and grounding himself in my presence.
“Jesus. I’ll never be able to scrub the vision of a gun to your head.
I’m so sorry, Kienna. I never should have let that happen. ”
He takes a step back, holding me out at arms’ length. “Atlas, I don’t blame you at all. You were taking on the external threat. Like four guys at a time, right? And then you came back here and neutralized my crazy father, all while keeping me and Mr. Kit-Kat safe.”
“He never should have gotten inside in the first place. Mr. Kit-Kat was supposed to be relieved of his duties as soon as I came into your life.” Atlas’s voice is gruff, but his words melt my heart.
“It’s good to keep him on his toes,” I reply. “Mr. Kit-Kat has to earn his throne, afterall.” I point toward my big orange fluff ball of a cat, who has made a furry little nest out of the towels.
“He gets grilled tuna and chicken for dinner,” Atlas declares, making me smile for the first time since the siren sounded. “Go on, Kienna,” he says, nodding toward the full tub. I’ll call Aegis and rinse off real quick.”
Atlas turns to leave, but I grab his hand and spin him around. I throw my arms around his neck and pull him down for an intense kiss, filled with relief, adrenaline, and a profound gratefulness that we’re both here in this moment.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. “I needed that.” Atlas cups my face and kisses me fully, tangling his tongue in mine before peppering kisses down my neck.
“Now, enough distractions,” Atlas declares in a mock serious voice.
“Your mission is to take a bath,” he says, pointing at me.
“And your mission,” he continues, pointing at Mr. Kit-Kat, “is to make sure your mama is safe and happy.”
I swear to God, Mr. Kit-Kat nods while Atlas winks at him. My heart is so full, even though my past is shattered. I have everything I need right here.
After a few minutes of soaking in the tub, I hear the low, muted voices of the Aegis team.
Easton, who I’ve discovered is Atlas’s boss, has a loud, recognizable voice.
It carries from the speaker, firm, efficient, and final.
He and the others are already taking care of the scene, confirming they’ll hand my father over to the FBI.
I don't need the details, only that he’ll be out of my life for good, and unable to hurt anyone else.
I close my eyes, sinking into the warm, soapy water. I’m not sure how long I dozed off for, but I’m awoken when Atlas joins me in the bathroom. He’s in nothing but a towel, the harsh scent of dried blood and dirt rinsed away from his skin.
Atlas drops the towel with a little smirk, then steps into the water behind me, pulling me back against his chest. His hands roam over my skin, heavy and possessive, and the tears return. Not from fear, but from the sudden, overwhelming weight of the bullet that missed.
"I could have lost you," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I didn't even... I didn't get to tell you. I love you, Atlas."
He freezes. The breath hitches in his throat, and he pulls me around until I’m facing him. The adoration in his eyes is so bright it’s almost blinding. "Say it again," he demands, his voice barely a tremor.
"I love you," I repeat as the fear of overstepping dissolves into the same pure, sweet hope on his face.
“Kienna, you’ve wrecked me in the best possible way. I love you, I need you, and fuck if this isn’t the best moment of my life.” His voice is a rumbling vow that reaches into the deepest parts of my soul.
His lips cover mine, slow and soft at first, cherishing the reality of our confessions. The kiss turns more passionate, but right as I’m about to stroke his hard length, Atlas breaks away. I pout and look at him with an eyebrow raised.
“As much as I want all of you right this fucking second, you’ve had such a hard night. You’re already sore, love. Let me take care of you like the treasure you are.”
I nod and rest my head against his shoulder, feeling small and protected and cherished.
We finish our night in the quiet, tangled together in the wreckage of my old life and the promise of a new one. I let Atlas take care of me, just like he promised he would. We’re safe. We’re together. For the first time, the future doesn't look like a threat. In fact, it looks like home.