Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Molly’s nerves bunched into knots. Her hand was sweating inside Atlas’s large palms, but she didn’t pull away.
Even though his words had rocked her.
The man was huge, imposing, and a trained soldier.
Atlas was dangerous.
Goosebumps erupted over her skin.
Military trained without the badges. Was he some kind of mercenary? He’d told her that all the guards in Rex’s house were dead. So he’d killed them. That fact hadn’t registered until now.
“You’ve killed people?” Her words came out thin and wiry.
His brow puckered, pinching the skin above his nose.
She could stare at his face and body all day.
Get to know every line of ink, every wrinkle and scar.
His eyes were twin pools of blue-green intensity, his sandy hair close-cropped, and his stubble .
. . god, she wanted to touch more than his hand.
The realization had her reeling. She’d just asked if he killed people, for god’s sake, and in the next instant needed to wipe the drool from her chin. Maybe she needed a hospital after all.
“Well, yeah,” he said slowly. “A lot of people. The guards, to name a few.”
Her mouth went dry.
She should be incredibly disturbed by his admission. Rex’s men had been cruel and evil, but other people? Only she wasn’t disturbed. Not in the least. Instead, excitement licked her belly.
“I need a drink,” she rasped, reaching for the orange juice as if it held more than a dose of vitamin C.
Letting go of his hand, she unscrewed the cap and took a big swig, then gasped.
He chuckled and pried the plastic from her fingers. “You’re gonna drown yourself, there, Molly.”
She wiped her mouth and pulled her knees closer. Her fingers itched to slide back into the calloused cushion of his palm. She mentally kicked herself for having pulled away. Reaching for him now might be awkward.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” His lips tipped up at the corners. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I won’t let anyone else, either. But yes, I’ve killed plenty of people who’ve deserved it, and I’ll do it again.”
He leaned back in the chair and rested his palms on his thighs. “I can’t tell you much about our mission. Matter of fact, I’ve already told you enough to get me thrown off the team.”
Guilt rushed through her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to. But this shit’s serious. We’ve got a major drug lord who needs to be taken down.”
She hadn’t realized that was Rex’s specialty. He’d questioned her many times about Willy’s business dealings, but given the threats and innuendos he’d made about selling her, she’d assumed he was into human trafficking. She supposed drugs fell close enough to that category.
“What happens to me now?”
He lowered his gaze and seemed reluctant to answer. “We take you back to Panama City. I assume you’ve got a place there?”
She nodded.
“Friends? Relatives?” A boyfriend? Though he didn’t ask the question, the words hung silently in the balance making her cheeks warm. Or maybe she just imagined his interest.
She lifted a shoulder. “I-I don’t have a lot of friends there, no. My coworker, Tara, is the only person I really talk to.”
“Can you stay with her so you’re not alone? You might need some help as you get your strength back.”
“Oh, no. She has an eight-year-old son, and they live with her mom. I wouldn’t want to endanger them.”
“You’re not in any danger—not anymore. We’ll find Rex today. Tomorrow at the latest. He’s not looking for you. He’s too busy hiding from us.”
Hearing his conviction loosened some of the tension in her shoulders. She hadn’t wanted to voice the fear embedded deep in her psyche: she was terrified Rex would come looking for her.
“What makes you so sure you’ll find him that quickly?”
He smiled, revealing glistening pearly whites. “We’re Phantom Ops. We get the job done. Now, will you tell me what kinds of questions Rex asked you about your boss?”
Stretching out her legs and feeling more at ease, she laced her fingers together. “He asked where Willy’s meeting points were and who his contacts were.” She shrugged.
Atlas dragged the tip of his thumb beneath his bottom lip. “Interesting. Do you think he was trying to steal from your boss?”
“He never said. But it was obvious he thought I knew more about Willy than I did.”
He nodded slowly. “Well, if anything else comes to mind, please tell me. We still have a while before the guys get here. I’m gonna have a quick shower if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Would you like to call your family?”
She nodded. In truth, she didn’t want to speak to her parents yet. Didn’t want to have to answer their questions and upset them more than they probably already were. However, she had to face the music.
He passed her a bulky device. “It’s a satellite phone. But works for calls and texts like any other. Take all the time you need.”
“Thank you.”
He went into the bathroom and shut the door.
Molly dialed the phone number she’d had memorized since childhood. Her brain fumbled for the right thing to say, an explanation. Nothing came forth.
“Hello?” Her mother, Sarah, answered. Strain pulled at the greeting.
Sadness crushed Molly’s chest. They must have been sick with worry. “Hi, Mom.”
“Molly! Oh my god. Your father’s out right now. I wish he were here to hear your voice. We’ve been so worried.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m okay, though.”
“Were you in an accident? Why haven’t you called? Whose number is this?” The questions came out rapid-fire.
She closed her eyes and rolled onto her side on the bed. “It’s a long story.”
“Molly, please tell me what’s happened.”
Tears clogged Molly’s throat.
“I’m coming there. We’ll get on a flight today.” Conviction filled her mother’s words.
“No, you don’t need to do that.” She summoned a breath and then told her mother almost everything that had happened in the last two weeks, skipping over the mention of Rex threatening to sell her.
Her mother sobbed quietly as she listened, and asked pained questions along the way. By the time Molly hung up, after promising to call that night, every cell in her body was drained.
Molly’s tired, scared expression filled Atlas’s mind every time he closed his eyes. He scrubbed his soapy hands over his face. He’d never forget that stabbing look of fear she’d given him when he admitted to killing people.
The distrust, though evident for only a second, cut him to the core. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him, dammit. But he also wouldn’t lie. His career was everything to him. And he wouldn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t.
Even if that meant she thought him a goddamn monster. In all his thirty-six years, he’d never given a damn if someone thought less of him.
He scoffed away his irritation and flicked off the water. He tore open the shower curtain and grabbed a clean towel from the rack. Stepping out of the tub, he glanced down at where he’d helped her bathe the previous night.
The sight of her bruised and dirty body had shaken him more than he cared to admit.
He couldn’t let his mind wander to what could have happened if he and the guys hadn’t arrived when they had.
He scrubbed his body dry and winced as the terry cloth rubbed over the new scar on his chest, beneath his shoulder.
His other healed wound, on his thigh, ached. After he’d walked through the jungle carrying Molly the previous night, the muscle had twinged for hours. Not that he’d tell Rogue that. His boss had already been reluctant to let Atlas return to work. He’d been shot twice just five weeks ago.
He wrapped the towel around his waist. As he brushed his teeth, he realized he’d left his clean clothes in his bag. Shit.
Placing his hand securely on the top of the towel so he didn’t accidentally drop the fucking thing, he opened the bathroom door.
His gaze shot to the bed. Molly lay on her side, unmoving. Unease crept over him. Had she fallen asleep? He hadn’t been in the shower long, and she’d said she was going to call her family.
Carefully he crept to the bed. His phone lay on the covers, and her hand was nestled under her cheek. Relief relaxed his shoulders. He backed away. The floor creaked, and Molly’s eyes snapped open.
She gasped and sat straight up. “Ohmigod, you scared me.” She clapped her hand to her chest. Her gaze sharpened on his face, then leisurely slid down his chest and stopped on the towel before climbing back up.
Pink tinted her cheeks. Her tongue swept over her bottom lip and his cock tightened. Heat scorched the back of his neck. Her eyes found his face, and she seemed to blink the lust away.
“Sorry,” he managed. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t passed out or anything. Did you speak with your family?”
She ducked her chin. “Yeah, I talked to my mom. She was pretty upset. It was an exhausting phone call.”
“Shit. I wish I hadn’t woken you.”
“No, it’s fine.” She shifted. “I know your friends are coming soon.” Her gaze drifted down and settled about six inches from his eyes.
His scar.
Not something he wanted to talk about right now.
She opened her mouth, but he took a step in retreat before she could say anything.
“I’ll be right back. Just going to get dressed.
Once the guys get here, I’m going to run out and get you a few things.
I’m sure you don’t want to wear my clothes forever. ”
She gave him a weak smile.
He took a change of clothes from his bag and returned to the bathroom. After shutting the door, he braced his hands on the counter.
Christ, he had a problem.
Every look from Molly haunted him. Before, it’d been her fear that affected him. Now, it was something personal.
Something primal.
He wanted her.
And that was more than a goddamn problem.
If Molly didn’t look away, she’d have to wipe drool from her chin. The fact that the room was full of ripped alpha men should’ve been the reason for her swooning.
But only one of these soldiers held her interest, and he’d just returned from the store with a plastic bag dangling from his fingers.
“I tried my best,” he said with a rueful grin, passing her the bag. “Not much to choose from this far from the city, but at least you won’t sweat your ass off in my joggers.” He spoke over the din of the other men.
It was bad enough she’d seen him in a towel and gotten a front-row seat to his glistening manliness. The bag stuffed full of clothes he’d bought her made her knees even weaker.
She compressed her lips, stifling a shy smile. “Anything clean is great. I’ll change.”
She stood from the edge of the bed, and six pairs of eyes pinned her to the spot. She cleared her throat, her face heating. “Um, excuse me.”
“Need something, Mol?” asked the man who’d introduced himself as Wraith. He wore a smile and had a faint accent she couldn’t place.
Atlas swung his gaze to his friend, and irritation billowed off him. Molly glanced between them.
Wraith held up his hands. “What’d I do?”
“You’re an idiot,” Atlas said simply, his tone void of emotion.
Viper snorted. “That’s an understatement.”
Wraith’s playful smirk vanished. “You got summin’ to say, big boy?”
Havoc guffawed and Reaper rolled his eyes. Atlas cupped her elbow and steered her toward the bathroom. “Ignore them.”
“I feel like I’m missing something,” she murmured as she stepped into the bathroom.
He leaned against the door. “He’s just being an ass and trying to annoy me. Nothing to do with you.”
She gave him a tight smile and closed the door. Nothing to do with her. Why did his words sting? She might have entirely misunderstood what’d passed between them, but it’d certainly felt as if she were in the middle.
Oh well. She didn’t have the energy to let Atlas’s comment upset her. She quickly changed into the navy-blue cotton shorts and white tank top. The shirt fit a little snug, but thankfully the shorts were almost midthigh.
She dug into the bag again and found a brush and a set of hair elastics. Ohmigod, he’s a saint. She ran the brush through her strands until they were free of knots, then tied her hair back into a ponytail. She sighed in dismay at the mirror.
Not only did the hairstyle reveal every bump and bruise on her face, but it also showed how thin she’d become. How pale her skin and lips were. Tears bathed her lashes. She blinked them away.
Enough.
She wouldn’t wallow in self-pity. She was alive and would get her health back in time. Summoning a breath laden with courage, she opened the door. Rogue, Viper, and Reaper had left, leaving Atlas, Havoc, and Wraith.
Atlas stood with his bag over his shoulder. The room had been tidied. Havoc was placing something in his backpack and Wraith was staring at his phone.
Atlas’s gaze roamed her face, then dipped down to her legs and back up. Her cheeks buzzed with awareness.
“Feel better?” he asked.
She nodded and passed him the brush. “Much. Can you hold on to that for me?”
“Sure.” He stashed it in his bag.
“I appreciate the clothes and items. I’ll pay you—”
He chortled. “Molly, you’re not puttin’ me out. Don’t worry about it.” He settled his hand on the back of her neck. The touch was so intimate, and his eyes held watchful concern.
“You look good. Stronger.” His gravelly voice and the feel of his hand on her skin warmed her belly. But before she could lean into him, he lowered his hand. “Ready to go home?”
She nodded.
Home. She hadn’t seen her apartment in weeks. She wondered if her car was still in the parking lot where she’d been taken.
Havoc strode over. “You should know you’re all over the news. Heard them talk about you missing on the radio.”
Molly grimaced, and an itchiness crept over her skin. Of course she was. Her coworkers would have been worried when she didn’t show up. She’d have to go to the police and tell them what’d happened. Call everyone who knew her. Arrange to get her car.
Her shoulders sunk under the weight of the overwhelm.
Atlas’s hand settled on the small of her back. “Don’t worry about anything right now.”
“There’s just so much. Rex took my purse—I don’t have the keys to my apartment or my car. Anything.”
He tucked in the corner of his mouth. “We’ll get you situated before we leave.”
Interest lit Havoc’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
“Ay, you fuckers ready?” Wraith’s face blanched as Molly’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh. You too, m’lady?”
She fought a chuckle. “Yes. Are you Scottish?”
“Only when he wants to be,” Atlas said wryly.
Havoc’s laugh boomed through the room and Wraith glared at him. But it was Atlas’s glowering stare at Wraith that piqued her interest.