Текст книги "Atlas"

Автор книги: Alyne Roberts

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

V

Stella

I cracked open the bedroom door and peered down the hallway. It was dark and empty, exactly how I wanted it. I tiptoed down the hall quietly, holding my breath. The last thing I wanted was for Atlas to see me. I had sat in the bedroom, crying and pacing for an entire day. Too scared to leave and too stubborn to eat, I was starving. I wanted to hide out in my room until a miracle happened and I was set free, but I would soon starve to death with that plan.

So plan B was to sneak into the kitchen, grab something to eat and get back to the room without being noticed. I thought I was clever refusing the food they brought me, but the empty feeling in my stomach was making me regret it. If I ever wanted to escape, I couldn't be ready to pass out. Dying of hunger had to be more painful than a bullet.

Every door was closed in the hall but I saw the light coming from the kitchen. I was almost there when I heard the sounds of voices. I froze in place, listening. I heard the deep rumble of Atlas's voice along with a stranger's voice, or maybe two. My hands shook with nerves and my body wavered between going toward the voices or the kitchen.

What if they could help me? If I told them I was here against my will, would they save me? Surely Atlas wouldn't fight for me if he was outnumbered. The thought of being free had my feet leaving the safety the kitchen could provide and moving toward the voices. Another hall was off to my right and the voices got louder. I poked my head around the corner, hoping to find safety.

French doors opened at the end of the short hall to a dimly lit room. Atlas sat in a dark leather chair, holding a glass on his knee. His eyes were hard as they connected with mine and I saw his jaw tick. Gasping, I didn't even bother to see who was with him before I turned and ran back to the kitchen. I would pretend I had gotten lost on the way.

I came to a skid on my bare feet as I rounded the corner into the kitchen. I made it to the large refrigerator and swung open the door, hoping to look innocent. The inside was packed full of food and drinks. At the sight, my stomach rumbled as I remembered how hungry I really was. The cold air hit my skin and I reached in to grab a yogurt.

"Finally ending your hunger strike?"

I screamed in surprise and spun to find Atlas leaning in the doorway, dressed in a black suit. He had a glass of amber liquor in one hand and wore a confident smirk on his face. His dark eyes trailed down my body in a threatening gaze. I bit my lip and let the refrigerator door close slowly. Facing Atlas, I didn't know what to expect as he stalked toward me.

"Do I need to chain you up again?" he asked when he was closer.

I shook my head quickly and stepped back until I hit the counter. I thought of the night in the basement and cringed. I had never been so scared in my life than I was chained to that pillar, utterly defenseless. I never wanted to relive that again.

"Then I suggest you stay in the areas you have permission to be in," he said. His voice was low and steady. It was a warning. "I was hesitant to let you leave the room at all. Don't make me regret it, Stella."

Every bit of me want to melt to the floor with his glare on me. I wanted to run but I didn't know where. Back to my room where he kept me? To the people that I could only assume wouldn't help me? My options were limited. Refusing to eat did nothing but make me desperate. Being brave and exploring only got me cornered. The only option at the moment seemed to be to do as I was told.

"Go straight back to your room when are you done," he told me before leaving me alone in the kitchen. I listened as his footsteps faded, knowing he didn't go far from the doorway.

I sighed and sagged against the cold counter. After several attempts, I found the silverware and grabbed a spoon. I had come all this way; I might as well eat the yogurt. I lifted the foil top and dug the spoon into the creamy goodness. It wasn't nearly enough to fill me but I was too nervous to stay in the kitchen any longer. I felt safer in my prison, as messed up as that was.

I found the trash and threw out the empty cup. When I turned to leave, two large men appeared in the doorway. Both with dark skin and void faces, staring down at me. One reached forward and plucked the spoon from my grip. I self-consciously shifted, knowing I was only in shorts and a tank top. My wardrobe selection hadn't been very vast, but I did have a closet full of clothes in my size.

"Atlas?" I called out, knowing he would hear me. The two big guys just stared down at me, unamused.

"They will see that you find your way back to your room," Atlas answered from the hall.

My throat constricted with panic and I felt like a caged animal. I backed myself into the corner of the kitchen while the two meatheads closed in on me. Like most animals, my fight or flight instincts kicked in.

With a strength I didn't ever think I could possess, I pushed past the two burly men. With one fist, I hit one square in the balls and elbowed the other in the pit of his stomach when his arms tried to reach around me. Sounds of grunts and thumps sounded and I fell to my knees with them.

My hands and legs scrambled to pull myself back up. Knocking a fruit bowl off the counter, I grabbed a cutting board. A knife would have been better, but they were smart enough to remove those when I was granted access to the kitchen. Armed with a heavy piece of wood, I ran. My feet slipped as I scrambled for the open doorway. The two men were also getting to their feet behind me. The cutting board shook in my hands as I kept my eyes forward. The wood was heavy and I hoped it would be enough to at least cave in one of their heads.

"Stop her," one yelled as I rounded the corner of the doorway.

"Stella! Stop!" Atlas yelled. I could tell he was in the kitchen.

In the hallway, the front door was finally in sight. I knew it was locked and could only opened with their keys. That didn't stop my legs from sprinting toward it anyway, knocking the air out of me when I slammed into it. The side window panels looked too thin to fit myself through. I could hear the pounding of the men’s footsteps coming after me. Their voices echoed as they came closer to where I was pinned against the locked door.

With my blood pumping with adrenaline, I pounded at the glass with the cutting board. Glass shattered and fell to the ground. Stepping back, I felt the tears rolling down my face.

"Stella," I heard Atlas growl from the end of the hall. Only a few dozen feet of expensive hardwood floor separated us.

The sound of his deep and commanding voice pushed one more burst of will through me. I could hear my own cries as I punched the rest of the shards away. The glass digging into my skin didn't register in my mind as I tried to push my body through the thin opening. I was able to fit the upper half of my body through before I felt a hand grab my leg.

"You fucking bitch."One of the goons had my leg and yanked me roughly back.

"Let go!" I cried and kicked. My bare foot connected with a hard body and I was released.

Hearing my name called once more, I used every ounce of strength to pull myself the rest of the way. Glass and wood scraped at my skin, but I didn't stop. I could feel the cool night air on my skin. I could smell the rain that had recently fallen and saw the moon hidden in the clouds in the sky. I was outside!

The night was so dark I couldn't see a more than few feet in front of me. I actually couldn't see any light in the distance at all. My heartbeat thumped and my breath came in hard pants as I ran away from the house. I could hear the shouts for me, and Atlas barking commands, but I couldn't look back. It didn't matter that I had no idea where I was going. My bare feet hit the gravel and my body cut through the night air as I sprinted up the gravel drive. I had to keep going. I had to lose him and find help. I just had to keep running.

"Stella! Stop!" My heart stopped when I heard Atlas's voice behind me.

In a panic, I turned off to the right into the tall grass. I could hear him cursing as he entered the thick brush behind me. The grass and branches slapped my bare skin, stinging me. This would be my only hope to lose him and get away. I kept running, ignoring the pain and shortness of breath until I couldn't hear him any longer.

Bent over with my hands on my knees, I struggled to breathe. Every gasp of air burned and my entire body ached. I couldn't see in the darkness, and all I could hear was my own heartbeat pounding. Even the moon had been swallowed by the clouds. Goosebumps trailed over my sweaty skin as I noticed how very lost and screwed I really was.

"There's nowhere to go, Stella," his voice surrounded me. "You won't get away."

Fuck! Just when I thought I was alone, he had found me. A cry escaped my lips and I tried to run, only to be pulled back. My back hit a hard body behind me at the same time a hand clamped over my mouth. My cries and screams were muffled under the pressure of his hand. Another arm snaked around my chest and fingers wrapped around my throat.

"Shh," Atlas whispered in my ear. "That was fucking stupid. So stupid. You're hurt now."

I lashed out against him but it was pointless. The hand around my throat tightened in warning. His hold was strong and held me immobile in his arms. I slumped against him in defeat and despair. All the strength and determination leaked out of my body.

He found me. I ran and he caught me. I was warned how foolish it would be to run and now I would have to face the consequences. Tears streamed down my face and over his hand as the adrenaline wore off and reality sank in. Everything hurt and it was only Atlas holding me up on my feet.

His lips brushed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Don't you dare fucking scream, understand?"

I nodded once and his fingers slowly lifted from my mouth and wrapped around my waist. I pulled in a deep breath, feeling the pain in my ribs with the inhale. Atlas tilted my head back while still keeping his grip on my throat. Even though I couldn't see his face, I felt his hard stare on me. Anger was rolling off his body in hot waves, and every muscle pressed to me was rock hard.

"I'm sorry," I cried quietly, slumping against him.

"Shut up," he growled as he hoisted me up into his arms. "We are going back to the house and I will clean you up. You are not going to fight me or even think about running again. Do you understand me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded against him. I didn't struggle as he walked us out of the brush, with his arms protecting me from anymore scrapes. I didn't even fight as he carried me back up the long driveway. I didn't dare to apologize again for fear of angering him further. I had no idea what he would do to me for running.

Atlas carried me effortlessly and I started to feel the consequences of my escape attempt. My sides ached and stung with every step. My hands felt raw and I could smell the metallic scent of blood. As the light of the house came into view, two large figures lingered near the door as we approached.

“Board up the windows,” Atlas barked at them. “Get this cleaned up.”

"Yes, sir," the other answered as they shrank back at his anger.

"That will be all," Atlas muttered as he stepped up the front door. Glass broke under his steps.

"What about the girl?" Goon Two asked.

Atlas spun to face the two dumb brutes. I squeezed my eyes shut knowing he had gone from very angry to downright furious, and it was my fault. I could only imagine how I would pay for it when they left.

"You two fucking morons can't handle the girl, so you're no good to me at this point," he told them in a scary, low voice that sent goosebumps over my arms and legs. "You had one fucking job. Get. Her. To. Her. Room."

Atlas spun on his heels and slammed the door behind us once inside. My vision swirled and blurred as he carried me down the hall. Nausea mixed with the dread as I knew we were close to my room. When I heard the turn of the doorknob, everything went black.

VI

Atlas

Stella was covered in blood and limp in my arms. Her clothes were soaked, her long hair dripping water on the floor. I ripped off the sheet with one hand and placed her on the bed. Her blonde hair was a mess, strewn with leaves and dirt. Scrapes and cuts covered her face, and her hands were bloody. When I turned, Tony stood in the doorway with bandages and a damp cloth. Pushing aside my anger at him, I grabbed the stuff from his hands.

I knelt on the mattress, using the wet cloth to wipe the blood from her hands so I could see where it was coming from. Behind me, Sal appeared with the first aid kit, loaded with antibiotic cream, pain reliever and rubbing alcohol. After cleaning up her hands, I found few cuts from where she broke the glass windows. I didn't think she would fit through the small space, but the little shit was determined.

Stella didn't wake as I poured the alcohol over her cuts. Tony put blobs of antibiotic cream on them, but nothing looked deep enough for stitches. I wanted to kill him for letting her get away, but he was one of the few I trusted with my mission. I would need him, but I would be kicking their asses later for fucking up.

Sal was busy cleaning up her face. After the dirt was wiped away, I could tell that the scrapes were only minor. The brush out there was thick and unforgiving. It was the reason very few lived in the secluded area and why I chose this place as mine.

"She's fucking fast," Tony mumbled when he was done with her hands.

"She ran track in high school and college," I said. "Go fix the damn windows."

Both men nodded and left the room. I should have never trusted her alone. I was too busy trying to gain her trust and too concerned about her not eating that I let that override my common sense. If she was anything like her brother, she was stubborn and wouldn't eat the food I handed her anyway. I underestimated her and the balls she had.

My name was one to be feared and respected in this city. Not many dared to stand against me, but this little girl wouldn't back down. I had spent months planning, watching, and getting ready for this moment. I wouldn't have all this unravel now, or ever.

I ran my thumb over a cut under her eye and Stella groaned. Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and soon she was looking up at me. She blinked, looking around the room. I saw the moment she remembered where she was and what happened.

"Let me die," she whispered. "Just let me bleed out. You owe me at least that much."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. Stella was more of a headache than I had anticipated. This was supposed to be the easy part.

"You aren't going to die, Stella," I told her. "You're not bleeding enough. I don't owe it to you to let you die. I owe it to you to save your fucking life."

"I don't even know what that means," she mumbled, fading in and out of consciousness. "What do you want from me?"

I leaned over her and grabbed the sides of her face. Her skin was cool and still damp from the rain. I lightly smacked her cheek and her big blue eyes opened back up, locking onto mine.

"I need to know what you saw that night. The night your parents were killed."

Stella's eyes went wide and she shook her head, breaking out of my hold. "I didn't see anything. I don't know anything."

I could hear the fear in the slight tremor of her voice as she recited the practiced lie. It was something I would normally feed off of. When a predator sensed the fear in their prey, it was a sign that victory was within its grasp. I lived and thrived off fear and weakness, conditioned to recognize it. Stella's distress told me enough.

"I know you saw who did it. You may have lied to the cops and everyone else, but I know the truth. So, Little Star, tell me what you saw."

"No," she whispered. "I saw nothing."

Stella tried sitting up but I grabbed her hands and pulled them out from underneath her. She fell back to the bed and I pinned her wrists above her head, careful not to press too hard on any of the cuts. She struggled for a few seconds before I felt the rest of her energy drain from her.

"Please. Let me go," she pleaded.

"No can do," I said. "You think that if I didn't drug you and bring you here that you would have actually made it to California? You think that it was actually enough that you kept your mouth shut?"

"Kinda," she answered weakly.

"No, Stella. It wasn't, and if I hadn't gotten to you first, you would have met a very similar fate as your parents. I'm sure you know what that would be like."

Stella's hand broke free of my grip and her closed fist connected with my jaw. I quickly snatched up her wrist and gritted my teeth to keep from breaking her hand.

"Do you have a fucking death wish?" I growled.

"Obviously," she snapped back. She glared up at me with hate, anger and fire.

"Too fucking bad," I said, pulling her up and off the bed. "Trust me, it would be easier to just kill you."

Stella swayed slightly on her feet, and I could see that the movement hurt. Her clothes were still wet and her shirt was torn. She would feel like hell in the morning.

"Hands up and keep them up," I demanded. Just to be sure she listened, I grabbed the small blade I kept on my belt. Her eyes went wide but she raised her hands like I ordered.

I stepped closer, grabbing the shredded hem of the tank top, and slowly pulled it up and over her head. Stella's muscles went tense and I watched as goosebumps scattered on the skin exposed in the cool air. The shirt fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Stella glared at me as her nipples hardened. I clenched my jaw with anger when I noticed the ugly bruises and scrapes that marred her perfect skin.

"Stay put," I said, pointing the blade at her.

I walked backward to the closet and pulled out a long robe. I could make her strip and expose herself entirely to me. I could watch as she struggled with herself while trying to decide if she was terrified or intrigued. It would be so easy to make her anticipate my next move while she was naked and defenseless. Having control was mostly making others fear you.

"Put this on," I told her as I handed the thick robe to her.

Stella took it and quickly wrapped it around herself, tying the waist tightly.

"Thank you," she said quietly. I could hear that she was starting to shiver.

Using the knife to wave her over, I directed her over the en suite bathroom and unlocked the door for her. I let her walk in first and followed in closely behind. Stella stood in the center of the bathroom, looking unsure of what to do next. I pulled open the shower doors and started the water, making sure it was hot.

"There is nothing in here that you can use to hurt yourself or anyone else," I told her. "Shower and get warm. I'll be outside."

I left her standing in the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I waited until I could hear the change of the water stream from hitting her body before I put my knife away. In the closet, I found some warmer clothes that she could change into when she got out. The night was not supposed to end with me dressing the girl like a doll.

"Shit," I cursed, running my hands roughly through my hair.

Gaining her trust was harder than I thought it would be. Understandably, Stella had her assumptions about me and my family. In most circumstances, she would be right. I was ruthless, a killer, and had no room for soft spots. But true to my ethics, I would protect my own and keep my word. I had no desire to kill her without reason, but she seemed determined to give me one.

I placed the clothes on the marble sink in the bathroom without being noticed. When Stella finally came out, a cloud of steam followed her. I sat on the bed holding antibiotic cream and bandages.

"Your hands," I told her.

Stella looked down at her knuckles, seeming to notice the blood and cuts for the first time. Hesitantly, she walked over to stand in front of me and offered her hands to me. Taking both wrists with one hand, I used the other to grab her chin and forced her to look at me.

"You do something like that again, I won't patch you back up," I warned her. I roughly let go of her face and spread some cream on her fingers.

"Why are you now?" she asked, trying to bend and get a look at my face.

I looked up and into her eyes. She could see how empty and cold I really was. "Because I'm not done with you."

Stella wisely chose to shut up and let me finish up cleaning her hands. I ignored her flinches and hissing as I put the bandages on. I was beyond pissed that she was hurt, but I couldn't coddle her. She needed to respect and fear me enough to never try something like that again.

"Lift up your shirt," I asked her when her hands were taken care of.

Stella took a deep breath before she lifted the flannel shirt to expose her stomach, keeping her breasts covered. There were scrapes and bruising on her ribs from pushing through the small window. One large gash decorated her stomach and I touched it gently, causing Stella to jump away.

I grabbed her hips, pulling her between my knees and running my fingers over her stomach. The skin was soft and warm under my cold hands. Stella held her breath while I inspected her body. I tickled down her ribcage, checking for any broken bones under the purple skin. The cut was the worst of the injuries so I cleaned it with alcohol and covered it with gauze.

I reached up and cupped her cheek, tilting her head to look at her face. The scrapes on her face from running in the brush were minor. They should clear in a day or so. I moved my fingers gently through her wet hair, feeling for any cuts on her head. Stella's eyes closed as she tipped her head back and I drug my fingers through the long strands. My hands trailed down her back and to her hips.

"Anything else hurt?" I asked, still holding her between my legs.

"Don't think so," she answered, her voice low and breathy.

I stood before I decided to pull her onto my lap. My chest rubbed against hers as I did, and I heard her sharp inhale. I smirked, letting her know that I had heard, and I pushed her back a few feet.

"Go to bed," I told her as I pulled the wingback chair from the corner across the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Are you . . . are you staying?"

"Fuck yes, I'm staying," I told her as I sat in the chair with my back to the door, facing the bed. "It's either this or I tie you up again. Or you can go to the basement. I obviously can't trust you alone."

Stella shook her head but climbed into the bed quickly. She pulled the covers over her and I reached up to switch off the lights. We were plunged into darkness and silence and I could hear her staggered breathing. Tomorrow, I would come up with a new plan. I would feed her, forcefully if needed, and I would figure out a way to keep her inside and give me what I needed.