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“Tell him not to go to her place, because that’s exactly what he’s thinking of doing. I can see it in his eyes,” Loke said, wiping his chest with a towel.

“Are you really thinking of going over there? Tonight?” Kat asked, eyes sparkling.

Well it was only fair. She’d stalked him first.

Loke gave a frustrated growl. “She’s going to shoot him or throw his sorry ass in jail.”

“Aw, Loke, I never knew you cared,” Atlas teased.

“Care? Care? You’re my pet project right now. You’re like a loaded gun with the trigger half pulled. One twitch and you’re going to go off.”

“I’d never hurt her.”

“Hurt her, no. Abduct her?” Loke sucked his teeth. “I’m not so sure about that. You’d better watch yourself though. Mila is a tough little bitch. You fuck with her and she’ll mess you up.”

“Oh, like I’m not messed up enough already?”

He flicked a finger at Atlas’s face. “She’ll fuck you up so bad you’ll be a Picasso when she’s done with you.”

Atlas was glad he’d decided not to drink tonight. Then again, drinking would have kept him at Fitte overnight. Loke would have had more time to talk him out of going to Mila’s.

“She hasn’t told me not to go to her apartment. I’m done waiting. Maybe she’ll agree to talk to me.”

“It’s late,” Loke said, shaking his head in disapproval.

Kat’s hand flew to her mouth. “Wait, Atlas. Think about it. What if she has a guy over?”

A strange sound came from Atlas’s throat and he lurched to his feet. If there’d been a chance he could stay away, it had evaporated.

“You probably shouldn’t have said that, Kat.” Loke laughed and smacked Atlas on the arm. “Don’t get arrested, you big idiot,” he shouted after Atlas as he strode away. “Poker’s at your place tomorrow night!”

By the time he got to Mila’s neighborhood, the area was quiet. He’d driven by her place a few times over the past few weeks, but he’d never given himself the option of stopping to watch her apartment.

If there was nowhere to park, he’d just go home.

There was a spot right across from her building.

If the lights were off, he’d just go home.

Her apartment was lit up like a beacon.

Apparently, this was supposed to happen.

Hopefully, she wasn’t up because she was fucking some other guy.

The security door was propped open, and he let himself in, taking the stairs to her apartment two at a time. Before he lost his nerve.

Chapter 17

Even all the lig

hts in her apartment couldn’t dispel the dream. She’d woken in a panic—visions of her bullet blasting a hole in Atlas’s chest fresh in her mind. Shaking, she stripped out of her sweaty T-shirt and underwear, and went into the bathroom. She dialed the shower to extra hot, wanting to scour that feeling from her skin.

Awake and asleep dreams kept coming. Nightmares. Romantic moments that seemed real. Sex dreams that were half memory and half fantasy.

It was her own damn fault. She’d driven past his shop again that day, and again was terrified to see it still open. At first she’d assumed he’d left town, but no. He was still in Vegas, his life going on as if she’d never happened. Business as usual. And now he had a fucking cop in his pocket. With her vouching for him, he’d probably gone right back to boosting cars. The file on his group had been closed when their activity seemed to move to LA, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still doing it alone, flying under the radar.

The house had never gone up for sale. His cars were still on the property.

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