Page 119 of Heat Lightning

“Max.”

I sighed. “Fine. But if this turns out to be a dick in a box joke, I’m starting another fight.”

When I opened the drawer, however, there were no used tissues or suspicious holes. Instead, I pulled out a ziplock baggie with some kind of clothing inside.

“What is this?” I asked, holding it up.

Atlas went rigid next to me, like I was a tiger about to pounce. The way he looked at me, I knew—this was it.

The thing he feared most; the thing he thought would make me leave.

“They’re yours,” he croaked. “I stole them out of your hamper the first night I asked for your help. I shoved them in a ziplock bag so the smell wouldn’t diminish.”

My head grew fuzzy with that velvet heat. I looked closer, and… yes. My boxers. I probably would’ve never missed them, having several identical pairs. If anything, I’d have thought the dryer ate them. “You… stole my boxers?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was so worked up after seeing you again, I stole your boxers, drove home, stuffed them in my mouth, and came in my pants from just the scent of you.”

Molten lava rushed through my veins. He came from just my scent? I reached for him. “Atlas⁠—”

“Wait,” he said, gently grasping my wrist. He kissed the scent gland there, too. “Wait.”

Tick, tick, tick.

He looked straight ahead. “I was sitting right there,” he said, pointing at the chair in front of the windows. His voice grew raspy. “And then I watched you while you—while you thought about me and fucked yourself with a dildo until I came a second time.”

My heart stopped. “You… were… watching? You actually saw that?”

He nodded but wouldn’t look at me.

Was that too far? At the time, I thought it was only a fantasy, not reality. I thought my hidden desires were just that—hidden, never to see the light of day.

But Atlas was watching. He’d always been watching, since the moment we met.

I searched for the fear and violation that should’ve made me feel, and… nothing. It only warmed my chest to know he’d always been there. It wasn’t normal, but it was real.

It was us.

Mouth opening and closing, I finally found my words. “But… How?” I asked. “Did you put a camera in my room? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

He leaned forward and palmed his face. “No, sweetheart. Look out the window.”

THIRTY-THREE

ATLAS

This is it—this is when you lose him.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears, like the thud of an approaching war drum announcing my imminent doom.

Surely, he would hate me for this? For watching him from across the water as he healed; while he settled into a peaceful life, imagining he was safe from frightening masked monsters, when all the while I’d never left at all?

Max stood and slowly walked over to the window. It was clear he didn’t realize what he looked at right away. Of course, it would be odd, almost uncanny, to see the mirrored view of your own home.

A few seconds passed, his head tilting this way and that as he took in the proof of just how fucked up I was over him. My insides trembled, like my organs would shake loose. My thoughts slipped against each other, coming and going faster than I could process.

All of them were of him.

Descending into ferality gave me a glimpse of what Max must’ve felt that night when he was drugged. All of my actions were out of my control, and I couldn’t focus on anything except Max.