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Atlas
Iheardthedoor to the garage rise and recognized the low rumble of my truck as it backed down the driveway. I gazed up at my bedroom ceiling, tapping my chest absently with a finger as the sounds of my truck faded away. Wren didn’t work today, so I wasn’t sure where she was headed. As if it were my business to know.
I reached for my phone with a sigh and checked it again, even though I knew there were no messages from her. I’d spent most of the night with her, making sure she was okay after the party. I’d never seen her that drunk, or that sick, and it was hard to watch. I’d seen worse, of course. But watching her suffering like that didn’t sit well with me.
I sat up and the sore muscles in my back screamed. I pushed my hair out of my face, thinking about everything that had happened last night. I’d thought about curling up in bed with her after she got up off the bathroom floor, but it didn’t seem right. It was hard to keep my hands off her when we were both in the same bed these days, and I hadn’t wanted to stay and create any more regrets.
On her end, not mine. I never had regrets when it came to Wren.
I stood up, stretching my sore back. Part of me couldn’t believe Wren thought I had a girlfriend. Did she really think I was that kind of person? I grimaced. Then again, why wouldn’t she think that? She hadn’t exactly had good experiences with men in her past. I had to remind myself she was learning to trust again, and I couldn’t blame her. I had to give her grace.
Liv, on the other hand, was a different story. I had no idea why she was going around telling people we were together. We had dated, true, but a few good dates didn’t make you a couple. I knew she liked me and wanted more, but I hadn’t known she thought we were together.
When she walked up to me yesterday at the grill and hugged me like that, I didn’t know what to do and in hindsight, maybe I should’ve just pushed her away. But she said she’d missed me while she was on vacation, even though I hadn’t even talked to her once while she was gone. It had been an awkward conversation to explain that I didn’t want to date her anymore.
As far as I was concerned, I was spoken for.
Hopefully Wren felt the same.
I shuffled out of my bedroom, headed to the kitchen to make an extra-large cup of coffee. Even though I hadn’t been the one drinking last night, an ache pulsed beneath my temples. I needed a pick-me-up.
I froze when I saw Ty standing in the middle of the kitchen, a cup of what looked like untouched orange juice on the counter and a piece of creased paper in his hand.
I tilted my head to the side, surprised to see him already awake. It wasn’t even noon yet. “You’re up early.” I headed over to the coffeepot.
When Ty didn’t answer, I stared at him. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked up from the paper he was fixated on. I frowned, squinting at the paper before the recognition hit me. Ty’s hands were shaking, and my heart dropped. I closed my eyes for a moment, understanding the depths of my mistake.
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I leaned against the counter, rubbing my temples as Ty found his voice. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with confusion and anger and…fear. They were the eyes of a helpless five-year-old kid.
“What is this?” Ty’s voice wavered like the spasms in his hands as he thrust the paper toward me. “What the fuck is this, Atlas?”
I could barely make out the eyes of our father on his ID photo. The photo I had printed out and brought home on that exact piece of paper and threw in a drawer.
I was an idiot.
A muscle popped in Ty’s jaw as he stared at me, betrayal in his eyes.
I looked away, clearing my throat. “It’s—It’s our father.”
“No shit,” Ty snapped. “Why the hell is there a picture of his ID with a fucking address on the bottom?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, looking down at my bare feet on the cold kitchen tile. “I found him.”
There was a pause. Then a low thud sounded through the room, making my head snap up. A small, fist-sized hole appeared in the wall, narrowly close to the kitchen cabinets. Ty’s chest heaved, his eyes flashing in pain. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The piece of paper crumpled in one hand and bright crimson blood dripped from the knuckles of his other, pooling on the floor.
I pushed off the counter, cursing, and took a step toward him, but Ty backed away, shaking his head.
“Why were you looking for him, Atlas? What possible reason could you have for finding that man and bringing him back into our lives?”
I didn’t take my eyes off his damaged hand. I could already tell he probably needed stitches. Damn. He could’ve hit the fucking wiring in that wall. He could’ve killed himself.
I ground my back teeth. “I’m not bringing him back into our lives.”
“Then why? Why would you look for him and not tell me?”
