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“Why didn’t you kill me that night, then, if you were so sure it was me?” It was my turn to question him. Might as well have the full picture if I was going to die today. Odds were likely I wouldn’t live to see another sunrise. “You called me an ambulance. Why? Why were you even there?”
“I was following you,” he spoke with a shrug. “I thought that was obvious. But I wasn’t the only one.”
“One of my father’s men shot me, trying to kill me,” I muttered, frowning, “but the asshole missed—”
Damian laughed. He laughed so hard his stomach must’ve gotten a workout. He then saw I glared at him, and he cut the shit, growing serious once more. “You still don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“I saw where you went, where you came from. You didn’t tell nobody you were going there—so who would’ve known you were good at sneaking out of your house? Sure as hell wasn’t me, though I am starting to appreciate how resourceful you are.”
“Who would’ve…” I stopped when Damian’s knowing face hit me.
And then it really hit me.
“Who knows all of your secrets, hmm? Who do you let past those walls? Maybe he didn’t miss. Maybe he shot you there on purpose, because he couldn’t go through with it.” When I still said nothing, Damian went on, “I saw him, baby girl. I saw his face under the streetlights when he was following you.”
I could hardly speak, “No. Zander would never—” I couldn’t say anything more. He’d been so loyal to Miguel for so long. Was it really so impossible to believe that he was the one Miguel had tried to force to kill me? Again, another game on Miguel’s part.
The way Zander had acted in the hospital. How remorseful he’d seemed, apologizing for something that wasn’t his fault—or, at least I didn’t think so at the time. How tense things had been between Miguel and Zander after that.
No. No, no, no.
“I’m sorry,” Damian whispered. “I know you care about that boy.”
That didn’t cover it. I fucking loved that boy, to use his word, and now all the emotions I’d tried to swallow down came up to the surface. The betrayal. The heartache. I should’ve known I couldn’t be happy, that Zander’s loyalty always remained with Miguel. You didn’t try to kill the person you were in love with. That should go without saying.
“So what now?” I asked in a whisper, struggling to keep myself under control. I wasn’t someone who cried, but fuck, today was too much. Too much all at once. “Are you going to take me to Atlas?”
Damian stared at me, his grin growing. He let out a laugh, kneeling beside me, looking far too happy, considering. “That’s the thing about the Serpents most of you rich types don’t understand. We’re all Atlas, and at the same time, Atlas isn’t real. A man can’t be a god. Once you earn someone’s respect, they’ll give their life for you, and you gotta be prepared to do the same.”
I wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about. Was this some kind of ‘I am Spartacus’ thing?
“Do you know how easy it was to pretend there was a big man upstairs, a boss who protects his people and doesn’t take no shit from his enemies? Pretty easy. A rumor here and there, and suddenly you’ve got an urban legend. Atlas has eyes everywhere, because I am everywhere. They listen to me, and if they don’t, Atlas hears about it.”
The more he talked, the more it started to dawn on me.
Damian leaned in closer to my chair, dark eyes twinkling. He grinned, his voice dropping to a low, hushed whisper, “Baby girl, if Atlas has a face, you’re looking at it.”
Shit. Once again, my fate was in Damian’s hands, only this time there was no running. No ambulance coming to save me. I was God knew where, with Damian—AKA Atlas—and his Serpent thugs.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked.
“My boys want to string you up and take turns stabbing you until you’re nothing but stringy meat, but I think you and I know there’s bigger fish to fry.” His black eyes carried a weight, and I had the feeling I knew what he was about to say. “Those guys shouldn’t have been in that church to begin with. Churches are off-limits. Someone hired them out, paid them under the table. I think we both know who that was.”
“And the guys who came knocking on Cypress’s church?”
“Let’s call them overzealous, for now. I don’t like losing men, Giselle. I find it makes me angry, and I don’t like being angry.”
“I still don’t get why I’m here. You don’t need me to beat Miguel. You have the numbers, so why don’t you take him down?”
“You’re right. I got the numbers. We could storm the house, find him, kill him, but like I said, I don’t want to lose anyone else. And you’re right about that other thing: I don’t need you.” Damian was suddenly inches away from me, and he ran the tip of the switchblade along my arm, light enough to give my body goosebumps. A slow, deliberate threat, and yet it contradicted the next thing he said. “I want you.”
I was speechless. After everything I’d learned today, with an aching brain, no less, I had finally reached my limit.
“I figured he wanted you dead, and when he reached out to the Serpents about handing you over, I knew we had to get you. He’ll think you’re dead, and that works in our favor, wouldn’t you say?” He smiled at me again, and this time, I wanted to smile back.
I didn’t, though, because right now, there wasn’t much to smile over. Things were more fucked up than ever, and yet I knew I couldn’t rest. Damian was right. We had to take Miguel down.
And we would. I didn’t know much, but I knew that deep within my soul. Whatever it took, whatever I had to give up, I’d do it. We would take Miguel Santos down, burn his empire to the ground, and stand atop the ashes, victorious.
He wouldn’t see us coming.
Damian stood, offering me his free hand. Though, when we’d first met, I would’ve rather done anything but take his hand in mine, I did just that. My bare hand slipped into his, and I watched as his fingers curled over me. He pulled me up with a strength I didn’t know he possessed, pulling me close to his chest.
Still smirking, he whispered, “I look forward to working with you, baby girl.”
“Likewise, Atlas.”
