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But I don't get more than two steps before a hand lands on my shoulder. I know who it is. I jerk away from his touch and spin to face him, letting him see my fury, but not my pain.
His blue gaze traps mine. "This is business. The money…" He shakes his head. "It's not personal."
Is that supposed to make it better somehow? "Don't worry, I am under no delusion that we have anything personal between us. I'll have the money for your men on Sunday."
If Atlas comes instead, I'm not sure I'll be able to refrain from stabbing him in the eye.
His mouth works like he wants to say something but there is nothing he can say that I want to hear.
"Your guy said you have other businesses to shake down tonight." It's a not-so-thinly veiled hint for him to leave.
"Theo can take lead on the last two stops."
Oh, heck, no. Atlas is not sticking around here. "Then I guess you had better head home to check in with Zeus."
What did he call him? Theanax? Men in his position are usually older. Men my dad's age, or older. Like almost always. Thereisa thirty-five-year-old don for one of the Five Families in New York, but that's unusual.
Zeus is around that same age, but I'm not asking Atlas how old his brother is.
I'm never asking him anything personal again.
"Are we done here?" I ask, finished with subtle hints.
He hands the money over to Theo, who tucks it away inside his jacket.
"Our business is done." He reaches for me.
I jump back, nearly tripping in my need to get away from him, to stop him from touching me. "No."
"I am not your enemy."
Is he really that clueless? "You are the very definition of my enemy."
"No, I am not. I will always protect you. Your club will thrive. I promise."
"You mean like you protected me tonight?"
His mouth snaps shut, something like guilt flashing in his gaze. It's too late for guilt. He already gutted me. Remorse won't change how he used me. How he played me.
This situation is bringing back memories I buried five years ago.
Tino's face superimposes over Atlas's and I see my husband the first time he wanted to have sex after I lost our baby. Tino's touch made my skin crawl and I nearly vomited. He'd slept in the guest room that night and for a month after.
Eventually, we'd reconnected. I'm not sure I ever forgave him.
I may never forgive Atlas for using me the way he did. If only I reacted to his touch like I had Tino's at first. Instead, even now, my body yearns to lean toward Atlas, to put my hand back in his.
Not happening. My ovaries are done calling the shots.
"I suppose it's too much to hope that you'll never come back, but if you do, it won't be for me. Because I never want you to talk to me again, much less touch me." Without drawing him a map to the exit, I can't be any clearer.
His jaw like granite, Atlas glowers. "We are not over."
We so are, but I'm done arguing.
"Leave." I will not plead with this man. I will not let him see me cry, but the tears are burning the back of my eyes and making my throat tight. "Now."
He clenches his jaw and nods. "I'll be back later."
