“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.
Chapter 40
Summer
Three months later
Trent
It’s done.
It’s been a week, and I keep revisiting this text. A text that should no longer hold meaning beyond the fact that I helped my best friend tear down the competition. Yet the ghost of vengeance is knocking on my door, asking why I’m not smiling.
This shouldn’t have stayed on my phone. Not because I’m covering my tracks. No point in that when my plan was exposed. Yet never confronted or acknowledged in plain words by either Atlas or the guys, as if my lies tainted nothing and everything had already been forgiven.
