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“That's all for now,” I mutter despite the jumble of thoughts racing through my head.
“Atlas, I’m here to help lighten the load and make your life easy,” she points out.
Easy? Sharing the office with her is anything but easy. Although I'm trying to act standoffish and indifferent to her charms, I'm completely mesmerized.
She's all I can think about.
CHAPTER 4
Atlas
I slide the burger from its wrapper and squish it between my fingers. I take a big bite, savoring the taste of the juicy patty and sighing with satisfaction as sauce dribbles down my chin.
I turn to Knox, sitting next to me in the driver's seat. “Welcome back to the suburbs, my friend.”
Knox looks ecstatic as he takes his first bite, and his eyes roll back in delight. I chuckle at his reaction while wiping a trickle of sauce dripping down my chin. Contrary to popular belief, not all monsters are ferocious ravenous beasts.
He agrees with a nod. “Can’t resist the siren call of a good old-fashioned burger from Fred’s. They're a juicy little slice of heaven between two perfect buns.”
I couldn’t agree more. “It’s good to have you back, man. Even if it is just for a little while.”
I take another bite of my burger, but my mind drifts to Celeste, and my thoughts head straight to the gutter. I take another bite of my burger, desperate to distract myself.
“It’s good to be back. I miss this place sometimes, you know? The quiet, the simplicity.”
I nod. “Yeah, but you can’t deny that the city has its perks. I bet you love eating fancy avocado toast and sipping lattes.”
It's a sensitive topic since I'm unable to leave town, so he's careful with how he responds. He's always like that, despite my insistence that he doesn't need to worry.
“Sure. But there’s something to be said for a place where you can park on the side of the road, eat a greasy burger, and not worry about getting a parking ticket.”
I raise my burger in agreement. “Amen to that.”
Although being in familiar surroundings is comforting, spending time with my childhood friend fills me with nostalgia.
“Do you remember when this area wasn't so developed? When we used to ride our bikes through the woods?” I ask, reminiscing about the good old days.
Knox takes a sip of his soda and turns to me. “The neighborhood’s improving, and I think it’s a good thing.”
“I hate it.” I slam my soda into the cupholder, droplets flying everywhere. “But it’s good for business.”
Knox pops a couple of fries in his mouth and watches me wipe up the mess. “I’m expanding.”
“Did you hire an investigator?” he asks.
“An assistant,” I reply.
Knox's phone abruptly chimes, and he glances at the caller ID with frustration. “Good afternoon, sir,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I apologize for disturbing you on your day off.” The caller is loud enough for me to hear.
Knox works for the FBI. I’m happy to see him, but he’s always on call. It’s never a casual visit where he’s concerned.
“No problem. How can I help?”
“The local police received a report from a concerned individual regarding a disturbance caused by the gang you're pursuing. The alert came through to us, so I'm referring it to you.”
“What do we know?” Knox asks, his tone serious.
