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“What do you mean? Who owns it?”
“Atlas, of course,” he replies and I must make a face because Jay gives me a strange look. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I reply quickly, shaking my head.
Jay narrows his eyes. “You know. I’ve known him since he was a kid.”
“Really?”
Jay nods.
“How did you two meet?” I ask, moving to take a seat on the couch. A part of me hates that Eli planted such a seed of doubt in me, but at the same time, I know I’ve always been too trusting.
Sarah used to always tell me that knowledge is power, and at least if I know more about Atlas, I can make up my own mind. And not let my body, or someone else, make it for me.
“I don’t know if that’s my story to tell.”
“What story’s that?” Atlas steps into the room with a plate in hand.
“Oh, she was just asking how we met,” Jay replies as Atlas makes his way over to me, holding out some kind of sandwich for me and a bottle of water. I flush, embarrassed to have been caught talking about him.
“Sorry, it’s all I’ve got right now. We’ll go get you something proper soon.”
My stomach grumbles at the sight, and I’m suddenly reminded how little I’ve been given to eat the past weeks. I got more or less used to it, but now that food is in front of me, I’m suddenly ravenous.
“No, this is perfect,” I tell him gratefully and take the sandwich, immediately tearing into it.
Jay chuckles and I flush.
“Sorry,” I say with full cheeks, and I see Atlas smirk as he moves to take a seat on the other side of the room. He waves as if to say it’s alright before turning to Jay.
“So, what did you tell her?”
“What you heard,” he answers. “That may not be my story.”
“By all means.” Atlas shrugs, putting his feet up on the card table in front of him. Jay looks at him a moment longer before turning to me.
“Well, this one couldn’t have been more than what, sixteen?”
“Eighteen.”
“Eighteen, then. Anyway, I’m in a club watching a fight and I hear a commotion behind me at the bar, louder than the actual match! I turn around and there is this kid, a tall but scrawny little thing, shouting at these two guys.”
Jay chuckles, turning to Atlas and then me. I notice the small smile on Atlas’ face.
“The kid was a bit of a shithead, but the guy he was beefing with was someone I knew and didn’t particularly like, so I stepped in and told him to back off.”
“Actually, you came up behind him and crashed a beer bottle over his head,” Atlas corrects, and Jay rolls his eyes.
“Alright, fine, maybe that happened too.”
I laugh, despite the morbid story.
“Then what?”
The two men look at each other with a smirk.
“Well, then one of his buddies stepped in too.”
