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“Yeah, we’lldefinitelytake the red one if you could box it up. Ring up the others, too, for your trouble,” I tell her. My voice is still laced with the remnants of my need for Atlas, and I can’t hide it.
Her eyes narrow on me, but she snaps the card out of my hand and walks toward the front. I adjust the straining outline of my dick beneath my jeans just as I catch Atlas’s sweet smile in the mirror again. My heart dips to see her genuinely happy.
I so rarely see her truly happy.
I step back from her. I put space between us and consider running out of the room entirely. Because this girl... she’s going to be the death of me.
And I don’t think I have it in me to care.
Twenty-Seven
Atlas
It’s a limousine that drives us through the city.
I’ve never sat in a limousine before, but I have sat in a police car, and I think that little detail alone tells me just how different Rowan Stone’s life has been compared to mine. But I suppose Rowan very much could have had many incidents in the back of a police car as well. But I don’t think he’s the sloppy type. He has built a whole career on taking care of the little details.
I peer at him from the corner of my eye. His all-black suit hugs his broad shoulders. The waist of his dress pants emphasizes just how lean his hips are. The sleekness of the jacket makes me want to touch him even more than normal.
My own dress is just as flawless. The deep burgundy color makes my brown hair seem darker, and I forced myself to put maximum effort into styling it in long, loose curls. The hair, the dress, I’ve never had anything so nice like all of this, and I kind of hate that we look so beautiful for something so ugly.
His hand slides over my tapping fingers in the middle of the leather seat, and I hold his gaze for a long moment.
“Don’t be nervous,” he tells me.
And I wish it was that easy. I’m about to come face to face with the one man who completely ruined my life before it even started.
I’d always pictured the moment. Wondered what I’d do if I had him before me. Spit in his face, a swift kick to the dick, maybe a bullet to the eye. Even then, it wouldn’t give him a fraction of the pain he gave me. Gave my mother.
“You know, I’ve only ever met him twice,” I whisper, barely getting the words out. “The second time, when he pulled me out of that place. The first...”
His brows lift, and I keep going because if I stop, I might never tell him. And I want him to know. I want him to know all the bad parts and all the good.
“When I was seventeen, my mother got an eviction notice on the trailer we were renting. We’d always struggled, but this was the bottom of the barrel. We didn’t have anywhere to go. No one to help. My entire family is in a country I’ve never even seen, too far to help or contact. So she called him. And called and called and fucking called. Until one day, she drove us across town. We parked our old, rusting car on the perfect suburban street, and she made me promise not to get out of the vehicle. When she walked up, I rolled down the window. It broke my fucking heart to hear her beg him for child support. Anything. Anything that would help.”
“What did he say?” Rowan’s voice is steady but hard, verging on violent.
“He said she should stop making waves in front of his wife. He said he’d sue her for slander or call deportation again if she didn’t quiet down.” My lashes flutter as my jaw grinds. “She didn’t, of course. She wrote him letters. Flooded his voicemail and continued to harass the man who should have been a father to me. I was such a stupid kid, I thought the worst thing that could happen to us was we’d lose our home. But the police came and had her committed the following week. They took me too. On his orders.”
My lip quirks slightly amid the sadness as I remember what he said: he made Ed release me. Rowan Stone saved me.
And he’s still saving me.
The limousine comes to a stop, and massive spotlights push golden colors across the brick estate. I can see how gorgeous the outside of the home is this time. We’re exactly where we were just last night. But this time, we won’t be sneaking around Ed’s home.
We’ll be his guests.
Rowan exits the limo without a word, and panic shakes through my chest the second he has left me. Only for my door to pull open and him to be standing there, his palm outstretched to take mine.
Fuck, this is the most romantic heist in the history of heists. Bonnie and Clyde who? More like Rowan and Atlas.
My heels click across the brick sidewalk as I step out, hand in hand with the most gorgeous man. His eyes shine with that knowing mischief he always has. When he looks at me like that, it’s hard to realize how scarred his eye is. The lashing line of it kisses his lower cheek and disappears back within his hairline. It used to be the first thing I’d see when I looked at him. Now, it hardly exists. And I still don’t even know how he got it.
“Let’s go show these old fuckers a party,” he whispers as he pulls me in against his side and leads me up the curving stairs.
We wait in line for an elderly couple ahead of us as a stocky man at the door takes their name. He checks the paper on his clipboard, adds a little check mark, and then welcomes them inside.
Shit! We’re not going to be on that little list... This guy’s going to toss us out of here on the ass of my fancy dress. The heist will be over before it’s even been heisted.
