Chapter Eighteen

Atlas

Two weeks later

I'm lost. I'm broken. I am no longer whole. When I received the text from Indya, at first, I was confused. What was she talking about, she hopes I'm happy with Mallory. What the actual fuck. She knows how I feel about her, she has seen my reaction to Mallory in person. I have no clue what the fuck is going on. All I know is I feel as though my soul has been ripped from my body.

"You good, bro?" Simms asks me as we are leaving the training room. "You seem off lately."

"Indya broke up with me. She sent me a text and pretty much destroyed my world. It has been a little over a month since she sent that message, I am at a loss," I shake my head, still trying to find the solution.

"Did you respond to her after you read it? You know, ask her to clarify?" Simms looks just as confused as I am. But I shake my head no.

"She blocked my number as soon as she sent it, because I couldn't get the message to go through, then I tried to call, and yeah, she blocked me. I tried going to her apartment multiple times, but she wouldn't buzz me in. When I did get buzzed in and knocked on the door, no one ever answered."

Simms must not know what to say to make me feel better or to help me understand, because now he isn't saying anything. He looks like he is lost in thought.

"Have you tried to reach out to her friend or siblings? Maybe they know what is going on, and they can explain it to you."

Again, I shake my head no, she asked me not to reach out to her and I did anyway, I only have her brother, Silas's phone number and when I spoke to him, he told me just to give her time like she asked for. I saw Amara out with friends over the weekend, and I pussied out going to talk to her. It could have been the death stare she was shooting my way.

Not only is my heart shattered, which I have never experienced before, but my head is a mess. I thought everything was going well, we have both been so busy I haven't gotten a chance to talk to her much about my parents visit.

"Oh, fuck, man. No wonder she is pissed. I would be too if I had to look at this shit online. Do you think she read the article from In the Know magazine? Because if she did and it is the reason she dumped your sorry ass and then ghosted you, I don't blame her one bit," Simms says as he looks up from his phone.

I don't respond, I just snatched his phone from his hand, and scroll back to the top of the article he was just reading.

There is a picture of mom, dad, Mallory, and me exiting a restaurant in Portland. The same place we had dinner when they came to see me play. The differences between this photo and the night we had dinner a little over two months ago, is Mallory was not there this time, and we are definitely never rekindling anything. Before I let my anger get the best of me, I scroll to where the author of the article is listed and guess the fuck who it is? James. That piece of slimy shit.

"I have to make some calls," I tell Simms, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall. No wonder I am so fucking confused as to why everything happened, it was all a ploy. Everyone knows I don't read anything any of the magazines or news outlets say about me. Ever since everything went down with Mallory, I steer clear of anything attached to my name. Heads are going to fucking roll for this shit. Starting with bitch-boy James.

Stepping into the building where the In the Know magazine is located, I follow the signs and elevator to the eighth floor. As soon as the doors open, I step through, heading straight for the young girl at the reception desk. Her eyes wide and mouth agape, I waste no time asking where I can find James.

"Uh, yeah—he, uh, second door on the left. Um, is he expecting you, Mr. Kensington, sir?" She stutters out, but I give her no response. I turn and make my way to his office.

Office is a loose term; it is more like a room with about five cubicles shoved in the small space. I see Joey, tucked in the corner with what looks like a third of space than what everyone else has, and give her a nod, when she jerks her head in the direction I need to find the asshole.

"Of course, I will make sure all the facts are in the article. Here at In the Know, we pride ourselves on getting real, factual stories," James says into his phone while writing something down on a yellow papered legal pad. I roll my eyes, because he is full of shit.

I don't wait until he is off the phone before making my presence known."What the fuck did we talk about when I last saw you, James?"

The room falls silent. No more keystrokes, no voices on the phone or chatting with each other. The air feels thick with tension, and I can almost hear the collective intake of breath as everyone turns their attention to me. I can feel the weight of their stares, the curiosity and judgment in their eyes, wondering if today is the day I tarnish my spotless reputation. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the stillness. But I don't care what anyone thinks or how my reputation fares after this. The only sound is the faint hum of the air conditioning, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me.

"Atlas, hey, wh-what are you doing here?" Good, he is nervous, so he just admitted to what I wanted to know before I even had to ask.

"It's Mr. Kensington to you, and you know damn well, why I am here. Why was there another article linking me to Mallory, a little over a month ago, published? Why is the photo that was used from too many years ago to be used for the present time in which the article was written?"

His face is red, and his breathing has accelerated, "The picture was sent in with the article, I just rewrote the words to match the preference of the magazine. I swear, if I thought it was fake news I would have reached out to you. I didn't think anything of it because you were in Portland recently."

I inhale deeply, trying to contain the urge of wanting to grab him by the throat and put him through the wall next to us.

"Who sent you the information, James?" I snarl.

"The picture came from Mallory and the article notes came from, um, I am not supposed to give out that information, I could get fired or worse, sued by the person who wrote it," he says nervously.

"You got the article from my mother, didn't you? You can just nod if I am correct." James gives a subtle nod, but before I leave, I need to make something crystal clear to him and hope he listens this time.

"If you ever, in your life, publish, write, or speak about me or anything going on in my life, I will sue you for defamation of character. Everything you have ever written with my name attached to it, has been nothing but lies and fabrications of stories that show me in a negative light. My lawyer will be sending over a contract before you leave work this afternoon, if it isn't signed and returned to his office by morning, the next thing you will receive is a court date. Do I make myself clear, James, like, really clear?"

"Yes, sir," he sulks. I don't pay attention to him any longer, turning to walk out the door. Before I make it all the way out of the room, I turn to give him one last piece of advice before leaving.

"I want the article, and the photo pulled before I get home. I want a retraction printed and a public apology for treating me this way my entire career. I have always been kind enough to give interviews when asked, and it is journalists like you, James, who make athletes, musicians, actors, and anyone else who is in our position, think negatively of the press. This is why a lot of people will not give interviews, because of the things you have done, just to make a quick buck." I turn, showing myself out. Now on to my mother.

I drive to her house and one of the housekeepers say she has gone on a trip and will be back in a couple of days. Of course, she left, when I need to talk to her, she is always unavailable. I try taking a page from her book and blow up her phone every way I can think of.

I tried calling, texting, and leaving voicemails, but no response. I even robo-called her, where every time the voicemail started in, I hung up and called right back. She definitely knows I am on to her, and I am pissed, because I would never initiate any communication, especially since meeting Indya, and mom disapproving of her.

After practice, I skip the gym, just going home. I have had a shitty day, and the hits just keep on coming. I pull into the underground garage and park my truck. The beep from the key fob echoes from the concrete walls. Before I get to the elevator, I notice someone come up behind me.

"Atlas, baby, your home, early," Mallory's whiney voice croons.

"The fuck are you doing in the garage? What do you want? I know what you did, and you are going to pay for this little game you are playing with my mother," I snarl at her. Making sure she understands, I am pissed and want nothing to do with her.

"Baby, that is why I am here. I wanted to talk to you about everything. Can we just go up to your condo and talk in private? There is a lot I want to tell you," Mallory almost sounds, sincere—almost.

"You better make it quick, and if I don't like what you have to say, I will call every journalist I have ever come across and have them here to witness you being escorted from my building—again."

We ride the elevator to my house, and I head straight for the living room. Mallory is taking her time, looking around, for what I don't know. However, it could be that she has never been here before, she has never been invited to the building to be honest.

"Sit down, and stop trying to procrastinate. I'm not going to offer you a drink or a snack. I'm not giving you a lot of time as it is, so you may as well start talking," I tell her with a tone I have never used towards a woman in my life. It's laced with disrespect, a sharp edge that cuts through the air. At this point, I can honestly say I don't even like her as a person anymore. The words taste bitter on my tongue, but I can't hold them back. The tension between us is palpable, a chasm that seems to widen with every passing moment.

She tries to sit close, but I move to another area of the living room. When she tries to follow, my glare is so cold toward her, she stops and second guesses herself, going back to where she was sitting previously.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what I have done in the past to hurt you. I understand some things you wanted to keep private. At the time, I did not realize it was wrong of me to do. I am sorry I cheated on you as well. I was so lonely, and needed the affection and connection you were giving to baseball and your fans. So, I looked for it elsewhere," she lowers her head, almost looking genuine in her apology.

"I think if we really work at communication, we could be great together. I still love you, Atlas, and I know you are still in love with me too. We are meant to be together forever, even our families think so. So, I think we should give it another go, really try this time—"

I cut her off, "Are you telling me, you risked being arrested for trespassing to tell me you want to work things out?" I am dumbfounded by what goes on in Mallory's head. "It is time for you to go, and if I see you again around my building, the clubhouse, or me, I will slap you with a restraining order then call in a tip to all the journalists, so they can spread the news."

Something weird is going on, I have a gut feeling something is off.

"I understand, Atlas. I really am sorry for everything, and of course I want to work it out. We were together for so long," she says. Then she lifts up on her toes and kisses me right on the mouth. Then I hear a gasp, shuffling of feet, and the pounding sound of them hitting the elevator button.

I push Mallory away, looking toward the elevator door, and I am destroyed. If there were any fragments of my heart still intact, they no longer exist. I have no one to blame but myself. I knew better than to let Mallory into my condo, I should have followed my gut. But no, I thought letting her say her piece would give her the closure she needed to leave me the fuck alone.

The doors are closing as I rush from the living room, I knew something was off about all this. I see Amara holding Haven in her arms, her little shoulders shaking, but no sound is being made. This is the first time I have ever seen Haven sad. Then I see the anger on Amara's face, but her eyes show pain and sadness as well. What the hell is Amara doing here with Haven?

The door closes before I make it to them to explain everything.

"You have two seconds to get the fuck out of my house, before I do and say things I cannot come back from." The words come out so calmly, it's sinister, sending a shiver down my own spine.

"I didn't plan on you having visitors, Atlas. You must have a thing for single moms, because that did not look like the same girl as before. Please just give us a chance. I can give you so much more than they can offer. Besides, they have baggage. You are much too young to be caring for a kid that isn't even yours," Mallory says with disgust.

"I warned you, Mallory. I warned you and you didn't listen. You better be glad you are a female, and I can't hit you, even if I feel like you deserve it. You are going to be sorry you didn't move on with your life when you had the chance."

"You can't hit her, but I can beat her ass for you, real quick. In fact, I think that is what I will do, so if you could just not interfere, that would be great," Lyra says, coming from out of nowhere. Before I can say anything, Lyra has punched Mallory twice and is now on the floor, sitting on top of her, pounding on her face.

I should probably pull my sister off her before any real damage is done, but I stand still and watch with satisfaction. Lyra has hated her for a long ass time, and this is not the first ass beating Mallory has received from my feisty sister.

When I hear Lyra scream in her face she is going to kill her, I decide it is time to separate the two of them. Especially since I called security.

Just as I pull Lyra off her, and help Mallory stand up, Mallory tries to hold on to me, trying to force comfort from me, which she is certainly not going to receive, security walks in.

"Mr. Kensington, we had a request to remove someone from your home," Leo smirks, walking toward Mallory.

"Yes, please, Leo, and call me Atlas, for fucks sake. Make sure Mallory gets checked out by some medical personnel, she seems to have taken a nasty fall," I tell Leo, noticing the way he is trying to hold in his joy at seeing her like this.

Mallory looks like she went three rounds with an MMA fighter. Her makeup is melting off her face, like she was caught in a rainstorm, hair looks like it hasn't seen a brush in weeks, face all bloodied up, she is a mess. But she stays silent, not saying anything as she is escorted from my home.

I look over at Lyra, who is now in my kitchen, drinking what looks like chocolate milk from the princess cup I bought Haven, and eating my bacon caramel toffee, like she has no cares in the world. But when the house is cleared and I find out how she got in here without me hearing, we will be discussing her eating my toffee and not her own.

"What the hell was she doing in your home, Atlas? I thought you were done with her after doing the things she did," Lyra starts before I even make it to the kitchen to talk to her.

"She cornered me in the garage and said she needed to talk to me about a lot of things. I thought if I let her get it all out, she would move the fuck on, but apparently it was a ruse to try and get me back," I tell her. "How the hell did you get in here, I didn't hear the elevator?"

"For your information, I rode up with Amara and Haven. I saw her in the lobby trying to get a pass to come up, Leo was about to call you, when I told him they could ride up with me. We chatted a bit, she said she need to speak to you about something important and Haven wanted to come along so she can visit. We came in at the part where Mallory was saying she would love to work it out with you, blah, blah, fucking blah. Oh yeah, let's not forget the moment you guys were kissing. You dick, that little girl saw that. If I lose my friend, again, because of you and Mallory, I am going to beat your ass next," Lyra's voice is getting louder as she speaks.

"I didn't hear the elevator when it arrived, and I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. I was shocked she had the balls to even try to kiss me, let alone, succeed in it. I was in the process of kicking her out when she did that dumb ass shit," I yell back at her.

"You need to fix this, brother. It has gone on long enough. You are both miserable and heartbroken. Even if you don't end up together, at least work something out for that baby. I could have kicked both of your asses when I saw the look on Haven's face from seeing you kissing Mallory. So, I hid in the coat closet, to see what was going on. You are damn lucky, it is all a misunderstanding, because if it wasn't, I would have murdered both of you where you stood, just for the look you both put on that angel baby's face," Lyra tells me, a lone tear sliding from the corner of her eye.

"I know," I say solemnly. Because I know that I know everything was manipulated by mom and Mallory, I need to fix this quickly. Lyra is right, this has gone on long enough. I love Indya and I know she loves me. I am getting her back if it is the last thing I do. Everything else, be damned.