Chapter Nineteen

AJ

I wondered as the girls chatted in the kitchen and I watched Atlas gather his things to leave, if he thought he was getting away with something.

Atlas wasn't a liar.

I wouldn't say he was a bad liar.

But it was just something that didn't come easily to him. At least not with me. There was a sort of guilty look on his face as he told me his plans to go hang out with his brothers. While the girls oh so conveniently wanted to come and hang out with me.

Babysitme.

It didn't take much thought to realize he had probably tracked down Joss. And was likely going there with his brothers to intimidate him into leaving me alone.

Maybe I should have been upset about that.

But, honestly, it was kind of sweet.

Possessive, but in a good way. Because, apparently, that existed.

Atlas was teaching me a lot of levels to relationships that I'd never had the chance to know before.

Sweet possessiveness.

Healthy disagreements.

Both parties' feelings carrying equal weight.

Not getting slapped in the face for a simple mistake.

I wasn't mad that the girls were paying a visit. If anything, it felt like a step in the right direction for us. Me meeting more of his very large extended family. Feeling like I belonged with them.

Even if, objectively, I was nothing like any of these women currently in my kitchen.

Fiona was gorgeous, covered in tattoos that seemed to maybe be hiding old self-harm scars. She was married to a tattoo artist, one of the Mallick brothers who was not involved in the family business, and ran her own phone sex empire.

Lea, one of her best friends, was married to Shane Mallick. The giant of a man who was the family's enforcer. She'd been raised in a biker club and had escaped because of the abusive president—and her boyfriend.

Peyton was, like Fiona, covered in ink, and had bright mermaid-colored hair. She'd driven to the house in a hearse. And had earrings dangling from her ears that I was reasonably sure were vaginas disguised as flowers. She was, incredibly, a librarian, though, and I kind of loved the idea of future generations of kids seeing very alternative-looking people in places of learning.

Autumn, Peyton's sister, and the owner of a sex toy store was, arguably—aside from Atlas's sister Scotti— the most ‘normal' of the bunch with her pretty looks, lack of tattoos, and blonde hair.

Apparently, though, their differences only rounded out this group. They seemed incredibly tightly bonded, laughing and teasing each other as Fiona made another round of ‘Boozy Hot Chocolate,' even though most of us still hadn't finished our first.

"Fee, slow it down. This shit is rich," Lea said, waving her drink at Fiona.

"Not everything is about you, Lea," Fee shot back, lowering her eyes at her friend. "Savea, Katie, and Reagan are feeling a little left out, so they decided to drop by."

Savea, or Savvy, was Kingston's wife. Who, of course, I'd met in passing a few times. But I would be interested to know what kind of woman snagged a man like Kingston.

Katie was Rush's woman.

And Reagan apparently had a thing for grumps because she was with Nixon.

"What about Dusty?" Autumn asked.

"Dusty?" I asked, that name not ringing a bell.

"Ryan Mallick's wife," Peyton explained. "It's impossible to keep everyone straight right away. You'll get there."

"She said she was feeling a little anxious tonight, and just wanted to stay in. So, she will meet AJ at Sunday dinner," Fiona said. "Now, AJ, we must know," she said, abandoning her drinks to make her way over to me. "What weird shit does Atlas have hidden around this house?"

"Weird shit?" I repeated.

"You know boys. They keep weird shit stuffed in closets. It used to be porn, but that's all digital now. I mean, unless he's a paper purist. In which case, we will need to know what kind of porn mags he subscribes to. Leather stuff? Au naturale lady business?" she asked.

"Can we maybe not talk about what kind of porn my brother is into?" Scotti asked.

"I mean, porn was a long shot anyway," Peyton agreed. "Is it superhero comics? Video games? Some old, ratty blanket from when he was a kid?"

"He… he really didn't have anything in the house when I moved in," I admitted. "There's a locked room in the basement, though, that I never had access to."

"Well, that sounds like a mission to me," Fiona decided, jumping up. "Who has a bobby pin?"

"If anyone put the lock in, it was Kingston," Lea reasoned. "I doubt a bobby pin would work."

"Compressed air and a little hammer then," Peyton said, going off in search of the items.

"Don't worry. I'm reasonably sure the only thing in that room is all of Atlas's gear and souvenirs from his travels," Scotti said, moving in at my side. "And Atlas will know how the girls are when they get a bug up their ass about something. He knows you wouldn't go breaking into his super secret storage space that he likely doesn't really even know about, considering how little time he's actually spent here."

Right then, Peyton came running back with the can of air, and Fiona found a hammer, and we were all trekking down the narrow, steep basement steps in the dimly-lit basement where I had to venture to do laundry, a task that always filled me with dread and made me wish I'd never seen a horror movie before.

It was a heck of a lot less scary, though, when the space was full of carefree female voices as they charged toward the storage room, and got to work on the lock.

It really didn't put up much of a fight, and the girls threw open the door, reached for the light string, and walked into the space.

"Well," Fiona said. "That's… disappointing," she decided, looking around at the assortment of sports equipment—several snowboards, surfboards, skis—and a ton of winter coats, hats, gloves, boots.

The only other items in the room were boxes of little trinkets he'd picked up on his travels.

"I mean, the only real interests he's ever had are sports," Scotti reasoned. "So it makes sense."

"I guess. Would it kill the man to have some manga porn or something I can use to tease him with, though?" Fiona asked, shaking her head as she ran her finger over a snowboard on her way back out of the room.

"You coming?" Scotti asked as I stood there for a second, looking at all the equipment that represented all of his travels. And, suddenly, a deep sort of sadness overcame me. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, concern etching her pretty face.

"Look at everything he's giving up for me," I said.

"I don't think that's the right way to look at it," Scotti said.

"What's the right way?" I asked, my heart hurting at the idea of taking something away from him that he'd devoted his life to.

Like taking an animal out of the wild and sticking it in a cage.

"That he's deciding to dedicate more of his life to a different kind of adventure. That's what building a life with someone is, you know. Making a home, opening a business, getting married, having babies. Those are all adventures too.

"Besides," she went on, "it's not like you're saying that he can never, ever get on a snowboard again, right? The difference would just be that maybe he'd have you with him. He'd have someone to share his other passions with. That sounds a hell of a lot better to me than to do it all alone."

"That's true," I agreed. "I've always wanted to try skiing or snowboarding. Surfing, even. I've never really been able to do… anything."

When I was little, it was all about the farm, the town, and taking care of my grandparents.

After my father passed, it was all survival and hardships. There was no money to try to do sports or hobbies, even if I wanted to.

Then, well, then there was Joss.

Shrinking my life even more.

Being with Atlas would open up, well, the world to me. And I would get to show him how nice it was to have a home base, a place to settle, to find comfort in the simpler things in life.

I followed Scotti back upstairs, feeling a lot better than when I'd gone down, and actually allowing myself to relax and enjoy the company of so many women. Ones I hoped to view as family someday. Ones who so effortlessly pulled me into their fold. Especially after Reagan, Katie, and Savvy showed up to even out the craziness of some of the other women.

It was honestly one of the best nights of my life.

Sure, I was pretty drunk for most of it.

But even in the sober light of morning, as we all zombie-walked to the coffee pot, I still felt that way.

Like I'd found my people.

All because I'd found my person.

By the time we were all caffeinated and hydrated, the girls were cleaning up and saying their goodbyes.

All except Scotti and Fiona, and I got the distinct feeling they were under instructions not to leave me alone until Atlas came home.

I was out in the back, refilling the bird feeders, when I finally heard his car door slam, making my heart swell, knowing he was home, and safe.

My gaze moved over him, looking for any signs of injury, but finding none. If anything, he just looked tired.

When I made my way back inside, Atlas was already talking to his sister and Fiona, who looked ready to head home as well.

So we said our goodbyes to them before, finally, we were alone again.

"How's Joss?" I asked, watching as Atlas jerked back, caught.

"Did they—"

"No," I cut him off. "They did try to find your porn stash," I told him, watching as he snorted and shook his head. "But, no. I knew before you left what you were up to. You're not a very good liar, you know."

"Well, I guess I can call that a good thing," he said, exhaling hard. "Sorry I tried to lie to you," he said.

"I kind of get why," I admitted. "The girls… talk when they're drunk. About how it's important for the guys to keep them separate from some of the things they do. For legal-type reasons," I added. "So, did you and your brothers put the fear of God into Joss?" I asked, a dark little part of me delighted by the idea.

Atlas took a deep breath, immediately putting me on edge.

"Joss is dead, AJ."

"What?" I asked, voice choked, sure I must have misheard him.

"He's dead."

"You killed him?" I asked, finding it hard to imagine that.

"No. I mean, I'm going to be honest with you here, sweetheart. That was my plan. That was why I tracked him down. To put an end to this once and for all. But… I didn't need to. I just… needed to give it time."

"What do you mean, give it time?"

"The wound on his arm from the bite got infected. And I guess he didn't seek treatment because he didn't want to answer questions. He went septic. And… died."

"Oh," I said, my breath whooshing out of me so fast, I felt dizzy. I took a step to the side, lowering myself down onto the couch. "Oh, wow."

"It's not your fault," he was quick to say, coming closer, his boot stomping a bit across the floor, something that happened more when he was tired. And he'd likely been up all night. "You know that, right? It's not your fault he's dead."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's his fault," I added, looking up at him. "He attacked me. Samson did what he had to do to defend me."

"Exactly. This was all his doing. I just… I don't want you to feel any guilt about it."

"I don't."

"Good," he said, reaching for my hands as he sat next to me. "Do you have any questions?"

"Um…" Did I? Was there anything left to wonder about? "Do you know how he found me?" I asked, since that had been what was niggling at me, the fact that I thought I'd been so darn careful.

"It seems like he called every fucking vet in a several state radius, poking for information. We figured maybe he asked for vaccine records, then asked to confirm the phone number on the account once he finally found Samson's vet."

It was so simple.

I guess I figured it was some super computer hacker type thing.

Nope.

Just my dog's records.

And a madman determined to find me.

If I'd named Samson anything more generic—Charlie, Max, Buddy, Cooper—maybe he never would have found me at all.

But, then again, maybe it was better this way.

I didn't want to feel relief at someone's death.

The thing was, I knew that so long as Joss was breathing, he was never going to stop coming for me.

Not even if I was with another man.

This was the only kind of permanent closure that could be found for the situation.

And I was going to let myself feel relieved about that.

"You okay?" Atlas asked, head tipped to the side as he watched me.

"I was just thinking…"

"About?"

"Two weeks from now," I said.

"New Years?" he asked.

"Around there, yeah."

"What about it?"

"Maybe we could go somewhere," I said.

"Go where?" he asked, his eyes bright.

"I don't know. We can spin a globe and point for all I care."

"We're not exactly in great shape right now," he said, touching my wrist, then waving toward his boot.

"We don't have to go sky diving. Maybe just… sit on a beach somewhere for a weekend."

"You know what?" he asked.

"What?"

"I like the way you think," he said, reaching for his laptop, and bringing up all the options for a fun new adventure.

Just the two of us.

I couldn't wait.