Atlas
I open my eyes to Summer’s naked body curled against mine, and there’s nothing more I could ask for. That’s how I want to start every morning. And I already have a plan to make it happen.
Brushing a loose strand of hair from her arm, I glide my palm along her skin and continue south. I should give her a proper wake-up call, getting more of my cum inside that custom-made-for-me pussy.
Summer stirs with a sweet humming sound, and it hits me that I’m the reason when I catch myself squeezing way too hard on her ass.
She looks at me through hooded lids, and she might be sleepy, but the playfulness swimming in her eyes is wide awake.
“Good morning, honey,” she chimes in.
“It’s more like a great one, don’t you think?”
“It would’ve been if you were already inside me.”
I knew I had to give her the full somno experience.
Propping herself up, her innocent doll face mask slips, replaced by one of a lustful demon, who’s peppering kisses on my chest, eyes pinned on mine, and growing hungrier with her descent.
“I have a surprise for you,” I drawl, enjoying the sight of this gorgeous creature tracing my muscles with her lips, making me forget that anything but her exists.
“Oh, I can see that.” She smirks, eyeing my erection.
A loud bang on the door interrupts us.
“Expecting someone?” I snap, equally annoyed we have to stop, and bothered someone else but me dares to knock on her door. Granted, I don’t knock, but that’s beside the point.
“No,” she declares, while another bang echoes inside the room.
I shove off the bed and rush into the bathroom to snatch my boxers. In a few strides, I’m across the room, ripping a baggy T-shirt out of one of her drawers and flinging it at her.
“Put this on.”
I storm to the door and swing it open with enough force, I’m surprised it stays on its hinges, only to find my cousin in front of me—dark hair a mess and eyes red-rimmed.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I bark, charging at Jacob, wrapping my hand around his throat, and slamming him into the wall.
“The guys . . . told me you’re . . . h-here.” His voice strains against my hold, breath stinking of vodka. “I wanted to say—” My grip tightens, cutting his words short. “I didn’t—” he chokes out, before my fist finds his stomach, and he grunts out in pain.
“You didn’t what, moron? Know this would happen? Guess what? Actions have consequences. Welcome to the real world!” I roar, and the desire to pummel his face is overwhelming.
“Don’t!” Summer puts her palm over my forearm. “His remorse brought him here. Nothing you do will hurt him more than his guilt already does.”
“I’m . . . s-sorry,” Jacob chokes out.
Summer’s words don’t stop my fist from flying out, but instead of hitting my cousin’s face, I punch the wall next to him. He doesn’t fight back. He just looks . . . disappointed. That I didn’t hit him? Is that what he came here for? To punish himself using my rage?
I release him, letting him slump onto the ground. Grabbing Summer’s wrist, I drag her along with me when I hear him cough out the same words again, this time with her name at the end.
“I’m sorry, Summer.”
She halts before swiveling to face him. Is he apologizing for attacking her? I still can’t believe he did that after what happened to Maddy.
Summer is not exactly the soft-hearted kind. A simple “sorry” won’t suffice to make her forgive, but then again, she beat him up, so maybe that will.
“Go home, Jacob! You’re fighting enemies that don’t exist and leaving death in your wake. Is this what you want?”
Dragging her inside the room, I slam the door in Jacob’s face. He should be grateful she’s here; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been heading home in one piece.
Summer wraps her arms around my neck, her gentle touch and sweet scent chasing away those demons that keep whispering of all the ways I should’ve rearranged my cousin’s face.
“I need to take care of the shitstorm from last night,” I sigh, unwilling to do what I said.
Summer tries to back away, but I can’t make myself let go.
“I have clean clothes for you.”
“How?” If she dares to offer me leftovers from an ex, I’ll have a lot more than my bloodied clothes to burn.
“I . . . borrowed some of yours last time I was in your room.” She smiles. “In case you ever needed a spare set. Though I didn’t exactly picture your clothes being soaked in blood to be the reason . . . or maybe I did.” She’s babbling. And I grin like a fuckin’ fool.
A blush creeps on her cheeks, and she turns to hide it as she opens a drawer and takes out a pair of my boxers, a T-shirt, and jeans.
I put them on while she brings the bloodied ones from the bathroom.
“I can burn these. One less thing for you to worry about.”
My girlfriend would help me cover up a murder? I’m pretty sure she would’ve chopped the body up and dumped it herself if I asked.
Talk about a relationship milestone.
I push the clothes from her hands, letting them fall to the ground, pulling her into my arms again.
“You’re in for a surprise tonight.”
My thumb traces her lips before stealing a kiss, which I no longer consider stolen when it’s given freely. Then I’m grabbing Dean’s jacket, my phone, and my wallet from her hands, and heading out, before I opt to finish what we started.
By the time I reach my place, the weight of last night is back on my shoulders.
“There were snakes tucked in your sheets,” Dean says when I enter.
“Summer’s version of good night.”
“No woman has ever done such a sweet gesture for me,” Connor chimes in, dreamy eyes drifting to the ceiling. Yep. The man in a nutshell . . . or more like a nutcase shell.
“Jacob paid me a visit at her dorm this morning,” I snarl at the memory of how I let him get out of there unharmed.
“He came here drunk and wanted to talk to you,” Link explains. “He seemed broken. All the desire to beat some sense into him evaporated when I saw him like that.”
“Mine didn’t. He should thank Summer he walked out of there in one piece.” I grit my teeth while joining the guys at the table.
“We stayed up late, but the body is taken care of. Belongings burned and all, so nothing to tie back to us.” Connor shifts the topic.
“All the footage outside the warehouse is also deleted. This guy had no family, and his circle was all junkies. No one’s going to look for him,” Link adds.
“No loose ends?” I ask, even though what I really want is a name. Not that it would make any difference.
“None,” Link confirms.
“Can you send some untraceable funds to Kyle’s girlfriend? Make it more than enough, so she won’t struggle to raise her child alone.” I point that request to Link.
“Sure. But there’s something else—”
“Did you tell her?” Dean interrupts, steering the conversation in a different direction.
I focus on him, but restrain myself from answering.
“Did you tell her you killed someone?” He asks again.
“I did.”
“For fuck’s sake, Ace!” Connor is first to react.
“You out of your freaking mind?! What if she reports you?” Link scolds me next, his hand coming down on the table with a sharp thud.
Dean shakes his head while Carter curses under his breath.
“She won’t report me.”
They trust me. But asking them to trust someone they barely know is another story.
“Beating someone up is one thing, but murder crosses into a completely different territory—one I’m sure she’s never stepped into,” Dean says in a calm manner, but his hands in fists contradict his tone.
“Her murder résumé is actually longer than mine.”
My words trigger a silence bomb.
It’s not my place to reveal her secrets, but she’ll be part of our family, and they have the right to know she won’t snitch on us.
“Sucker!” Connor bursts into laughter. “Your girl has a higher kill count than you.”
“You’re digging deeper to find everything about her.” Dean turns to Link with that demand.
“I dug deeper,” Link says, just as I slam my palm against the table with a roaring “No.”
“That’s what I tried to say earlier. A contact of mine came through this morning.
Her scholarship comes from the FBIAA’s Memorial College Fund, but she’s not the daughter of an agent.
That’d be considered an abuse of funds if it got out.
Probably why there’s no digital trail. She’s not an informant.
His guess—a former witness protection asset, since she’s not connected to any current programs. Some high-ranking official must have her back. ”
Who the hell is she?
I rub at my temples to relieve the headache that’s creeping in.
But Summer didn’t lie about the things she told me. She couldn’t have. No one can lie that well. Her family was killed. I believe that. So maybe if she’s in witness protection, it would explain why she can’t tell me everything. But she will, eventually.
“So she might’ve literally been in bed with a Fed?”
I’m sure Connor has a death wish.
“I’ll stab you in the eye if you say shit like that.”
“Well, at least she’s not after you, given you were the one chasing after her,” Carter says.
True enough. And it was quite the chase.
“Setting that part aside, she’s still a killer,” Dean protests.
“And so are we! All of us.” I let that sit for a beat, eyes drifting from Dean to the others. “I’m going to ask her to move in with me.”
The guys stare at me like they’ll try to commit me.
“Are you serious? That soon? And given . . . everything?” Carter breaks the quiet.
“Everything? Her whole family was tortured and killed before her eyes. That much I know. So what if she is or was in witness protection, and Summer Night is not her real name? She’ll give me her name sooner or later.
She’s shared more than enough with me. You’ll get to know her. Then you’ll understand.”
“You’ve lost your goddamn mind!” Dean roars, pushing himself off the table and bolting out of the house.
“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?” That’s Link’s weak form of protest.
“None.”
“Then maybe it’s time we get to know her better,” he says.
They’ll recognize she’s one of us. Dean will come around, too. But even if he doesn’t, I don’t care.
This is my life.
This is my woman.