Atlas #2
Uncontrollable sobs tear through her, brutal and unstoppable, violent enough to steal the air from the room, and the sight carves straight through me, leaving nothing intact.
Her palms cover her face as she tries to hide the endless rivulets of tears, but I peel them away, kissing the back of her hands one by one.
Hearing what she’s been through, the pain she’s suffered, I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to kill me, too, by extension.
“Open your eyes, love!” I command, and it takes her time, but she does. “No one will ever hurt you again. I promise.”
“I couldn’t scream. I was locked inside my body.
” She gasps for air. “Numb. What those men were discussing was like . . . a distant echo that barely reached me, my ears still ringing from the shot that was so close to my own head. Three of them seemed to find some twisted logic; it was okay to kill me, but I was too young to be fucked, so they decided to wait outside the house. The other two were more than excited about—”
I don’t want to hear it; every part of me twisting in agony over what those men could’ve done to the woman I love.
“Atlas.” Her voice lures me into opening my eyes in search of hers. “They didn’t.” A sharp inhale is all the relief my body allows at her confession. “One of them dragged me by my hair to the kitchen table.”
I can’t! I can’t listen to this without feeling like I’m being torn apart, and my head shakes as I refuse to hear it.
“You wanted to know. Now listen!” Summer states in a firm tone, which I have no idea how she brings through her pain. “He pushed me face down on the table and yanked my dress up.”
“Enough!” My face falls, unable to look at her.
“I was still numb, not lifting a finger to fight him.”
“That’s enough!”
“No!” She forces my head up. “Harsh fingers groped my thighs, but before he could do anything else, a shot echoed. My attention snapped to find Eli, who was standing in front of me with a gun in hand. I couldn’t hear anything.
My numbness swallowed every sound, but at least I could feel the bruising grip was gone.
Eli’s lips were moving while he held the other man at gunpoint, but I had no idea what he was saying.
I stayed there with my cheek plastered to the table—unable to move, unable to hear, unable to speak, barely breathing. ”
Summer pauses, closing her eyes again, as she gulps and then takes a deep breath.
“Then I blinked, and I was back. Eli was asking if I was hurt, if I could move. Sure. I could move. And I did. I stood up without saying a word, then dropped to my knees beside the man who was trying to rape me. I took his weapon and, without hesitation, I shot the guy my ex was holding at gunpoint.”
She looks to the side, her lips parting, but no words are uttered, before looking back at me, only for her thumb to stroke my cheek again.
“It didn’t fix anything. It didn’t touch my pain or my thirst for blood.
Eli kept telling me we had to go. He tried to pull me toward the back entrance, but I ripped the gun from his hand and walked straight to the front door, carrying both weapons.
A couple minutes later, the other men came in—casual, like the shots they’d heard were meant for me. ”
Her tears are no more.
“I shot them. And I kept shooting until I ran out of bullets. It still wasn’t enough, so I took their guns and emptied those, too, into bodies that were already dead.
I gave them quick deaths they didn’t deserve.
I should’ve tortured them. I should’ve made them scream the way I was screaming on the inside. But I didn’t.
“I dropped the guns and went to my brother, and like an idiot, I begged him to get up, to come back to me. Because people survive a bullet to the brain all the time, right?” Her laugh is sharp, broken.
“But that was Milo—my brother. My whole world. In my eyes, he was invincible. Eli had to peel me off his body. My ex set the place on fire to make the people after me think I was dead, too, and the FBI agent on my father’s case helped sell it by faking the reports.
“Half of me died that night. The better half. You might not think I’m a monster, but you still have a damaged psycho in your bed. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Summer’s gaze drifts to the side again, unable to hold eye contact.
“You are a psycho.” Her attention shifts back to me. “My psycho. And I love that about you. But you’re not damaged. You’re perfect, just the way you are.” I wipe a stray tear before I allow myself the single question that matters to me the most. “Do you love me?”
“You know I do. More than anything.”
It should be hard to trust a master manipulator like her. No sane person would. But when have I ever claimed to be sane? She’s the definition of deception, yet I believe her eyes speak the plain truth to me. Only to me.
“More than your desire for vengeance?” I ask, the flame of hope present, but after hearing her story, it resembles more of a mere spark. In the wake of what she’s been through, I couldn’t blame her if she doesn’t choose me.
Her head tilts, and fresh tears trace her face, her eyes pleading with me not to ask that of her.
But I do. Not because my father deserves mercy, but because I need to believe she loves me enough to let go and forget why she started all of this.
To choose me. To be happy with me, and make that enough.
I’ll deal with Mason myself.
But I want to know her only agenda is loving me.
“If I tell you to drop your revenge, would you do it for me?”
“Please,” she begs, the pain audible in each syllable, chest heaving with silent sobs.
Though seeing her like this makes me feel like I’m torn to shreds, knowing that her love for me stands above all is the one thing I can’t back down on.
“Will you do it for me?”
Tears of surrender fall down her cheeks as she offers a single nod. It should be enough, but I’m greedy for her words.
“Say it!”
“You want me to stand down? I will,” she chokes out that promise. “I’ll do anything you ask of me. Nothing comes before you. I love you!”
She loves me!
I can now let go of the pain, let myself breathe. If she can find it in her to put me first, after what she’s been through, then the least I owe her is to forgive and forget how she played me in the beginning.
“Say it again!”
“What?”
“That you love me.”
“I love you!”
“Again!” I demand, my eyes never leaving hers.
“I love you, Atlas!”
“Keep saying it. I wanna hear it every second while I’m inside you. If you stop, I stop.”
I taste the saltiness on Summer’s lips while her arms wrap around me, holding me the same as I hold her—like nothing could ever tear us apart.