Chapter 4
ATLAS
The moment my foot hit the grass of Elizabeth’s backyard, I knew I’d made a mistake.
I had leaped over the stairs, bypassing them with my long legs, and my knee nearly threatened to go out.
It wasn’t a permanent, career-ending injury, but I would always have an ache there until the end of my days.
Even if I had surgery to repair any swelling or scar tissue, it wouldn’t help.
So running after someone who had thrown a rock into Lizzie’s house was probably the most idiotic thing I could do.
I could hear the sound of footfalls in front of me, and I knew I was close to catching who did it.
And since they had thrown a rock, I assumed they didn’t have another weapon.
Then again, I could be massively wrong. And here I was, running to my death because I was a damn idiot.
For all I knew, they were after me just like they had been in the shower.
I held back a shudder at that. No. I didn’t want to think about the uncertainty of the so-called incident. The authorities would figure it out, and I’d focus on keeping Lizzie safe. I didn’t care who the hell I was after at that moment.
But someone had scared Elizabeth. Lizzie never screamed as she had a few moments ago, and I would do all in my power to make sure she never did again.
I turned the corner through the woods behind my land when a voice shouted from in front of me.
“Whoa. Seriously, don’t hurt yourself. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
The deep voice had a slight edge to it that told me whoever it was had to be young, and now that everything was coming into place, the fact that Elizabeth was a high school teacher meant she probably had to deal with teen antics often.
Fuck this.
A kid with dark hair, with one of those haircuts that looked like a head of broccoli, moved forward, hands up.
“You’re Atlas Carter.” His eyes widened as he looked at me, and it would’ve been nice if my celebrity had helped here, but not so much.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I asked as I moved forward and gripped the kid’s shirt. He was a couple of inches shorter than me, and that meant he was damn tall.
“I’m sorry. Fuck. I like Ms. E. You know?”
“Atlas!” Lizzie shouted behind me, and I closed my eyes and willed myself to have patience. Of course, she would follow me into the woods as I was following this vandal. Because all of us were making wonderful decisions this afternoon.
“Will?” Elizabeth staggered beside me before she rolled her shoulders and put her hand on my arm. Will’s gaze widened, and I could practically scent the fear wafting off of him. What the hell had this kid been thinking?
“Let him go, Atlas.”
“Fuck no. He could have hurt you.” My gaze raked her body once more, afraid I had missed a cut or a bruise. That glass had shattered inward; she could have been hurt. Images of exactly what could have happened filled my mind, and I tried not to throw up.
“I’m fine. Really.” She patted my arm, and I didn’t let go. She let out a sigh before she turned towards this kid, apparently named Will.
“I’m not going to ask what you were thinking because I know you weren’t thinking in that moment. Did you have to break my window? I’m on a teacher’s salary.”
“I’m sorry.” The kid’s eyes went downcast, his shoulders shaking.
“You know I can’t afford to fix that.”
Embarrassment filled my veins because Lizzie should be able to afford a new fucking window.
She should be able to get whatever the hell she wanted.
She was brilliant, and always helped others, and I heard the empathy in her tone as she spoke to this kid who had nearly hurt her.
I wanted to squeeze the kid’s neck, and I realized that maybe I should back the fuck off.
Hockey players were notorious for getting into fights, but I was a goalie.
A goalie fight usually went viral, if and when it ever happened.
I didn’t throw down my gloves and punch anyone who came after me.
In fact, if anybody checked me or came after me, I had an entire team that would throw themselves bodily on the asshole. It didn’t matter if it was an accident or not, the team fought for its goalie. And then at one point, there might be three-quarters of the team in the penalty box.
Honestly, the Sin Bin hadn’t seen as much action as it had when that skate had accidentally sliced through my brow.
Blood had sprayed everywhere, dripping into my eyes.
The twenty-year-old had gone pale and looked like he wanted to throw up when he realized that he’d cut my face, despite all of my equipment.
He’d been tripped by another player, stick going one way, his body going another.
It wasn’t his fault at all. And now, the kid was out there with a Stanley Cup to his name because he happened to be on the winning team this year.
I didn’t fight. Nor did I use my anger at what happened to Lizzie, what happened in that shower, and all of the uncertainty, and put it on this kid. But I damn sure wanted to in that moment.
“If I let you go, you better not run. I’m not going to chase your ass. Because you may be younger than me, but I still caught you.”
Will, still holding up his hands, swallowed hard. “I promise. Fuck.”
“Watch your mouth,” I snapped as I let Will go.
The kid’s shoulders drooped, the defeated expression on his face like a kick to the gut.
Lizzie moved forward, her voice soft yet fierce. “Will. What were you thinking?”
“I really am sorry.” He gave me an odd look before turning directly to Elizabeth, his head down, his gaze on his empty hands.
“It was Jace and the others. They—” He paused, swallowing hard. “They said they were going to do something worse if I didn’t throw the rock. And I don’t want you to get hurt, Ms. E.”
Elizabeth stiffened next to me, and I reached out without thinking, putting my hand on the small of her back. She leaned into me, as if she wasn’t even aware of it, but the kid’s gaze went to the action.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he quickly looked back at Elizabeth’s face.
“Why are you hanging out with Jace and his crew?”
I frowned, trying to go through my mental list of everybody in town, but I didn’t know a Jace. Then again, I was rarely here, and as a teacher in the local high school, Elizabeth knew damn well everybody.
“I don’t really have a choice these days, Ms. E. I’m eighteen.”
I didn’t know what that meant, but Elizabeth seemed to.
“I’m not going to call the sheriff. I’m not going to get you in trouble. You’re eighteen now, and they have to treat you as an adult. Because you are an adult, Will. But you don’t have to do what Jace says. Come to me. I promise I’ll help.”
“You can’t help.” He let out a deep breath, and I could barely register the tears in his voice. “No one can.”
“If you let me, I can. Come on, you’re going to help me clean this up, and you and Atlas are going to go find some form of wood or whatever to cover up the window.
And then I will call Finnian to come and fix it, because he actually knows what he’s doing since that’s sort of his business.
And after I do that, you’re going to eat some pulled pork with us, and we’re going to talk about exactly what we’re going to do with you. ”
“Ms. E—”
“I wouldn’t argue with her. I couldn’t before. And I still fucking can’t.”
“Language,” the kid said with a laugh, but there wasn’t a single ounce of humor in it.
“Come on, you two, you just made me run through the forest, and I’m wearing flip-flops.”
I looked down at her feet and swore. “What the hell were you thinking, Lizzie?”
“Oh no. I don’t get yelled at. You’re the one who jumped off the porch like you aren’t a thirty-one-year-old aging hockey player and ran into the woods not knowing who it was.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself but caught Will’s very interested gaze.
“You know what, fuck it. Let’s go figure out how to fix the window. Or maybe we should just call Finnian right away because I’m not the one who knows how to do it.”
Even as the words left my mouth, I heard the jealousy in my tone.
Elizabeth just raised a brow and didn’t say a damn thing.
I wasn’t jealous of Finnian Ashford. He was too young for that matter, but then again, he was a single dad of two, good with his hands, and probably could help around the house.
I hired people to do things for me because I wasn’t good at it.
I mean, I could do a few handyman things, but I didn’t know how to fix a window.
It wasn’t as if I was here often enough to know what Lizzie needed.
Damn it.
I let Lizzie and Will talk quietly to each other as we practically dragged him home, and I followed, wondering what the hell I was doing.
And I couldn’t help but wonder why the fuck Lizzie wasn’t dealing with the cops. Because while I understood not wanting to get Will in trouble, but this Jace character? I didn’t like the sound of that.
“You can look in the shed. I’m going to make sure I didn’t burn dinner in the crockpot. Which I’ve done before.”
Will’s lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything, and I tilted my chin towards the shed. “I really hope that there’s an instruction manual in there, because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”
Will’s eyes widened. “You’re Atlas Carter. You’re the best goalie in the league. I don’t think you need to know what to fucking do when it comes to a window.”
“So you like hockey?” I asked, wondering who this kid was and why he mattered so much to Lizzie.
“It’s the best. Fuck football. Not that Callum Ashford isn’t great, but I’m not old enough to drink, so I can’t hang out in his brewery, and hockey’s where it’s at.
We have that lake on the north side that, when it gets super cold, we can skate on.
And then, well.” He blushed as we found a piece of plywood and moved it towards Lizzie’s house.
“And what?”