Atlas - Roberts Alyne (читать книги полностью .txt) 📗

"Fuck," he grunted.

With little effort, he lifted me and spun around. The wind was knocked out of me as my back slammed into the wall. Atlas's face was furious as he pinned me to the cold bricks. I couldn't move with his weight, and I realized he hadn't used his full strength on me yet. He was strong and now very pissed off with blood dripping down his chest.

"I didn't kill Ace," he fumed.

"He didn't just leave me all alone after my parents were executed," I threw back. I swore I saw a flash of guilt when I said it. "He would never leave me like that, so I know he's dead."

"Then I need to know who killed him."

IV

Atlas

Stella's eyes glistened and glossed over. I didn't know if I should believe her. I knew Ace better than anyone, and I didn't think he would leave his little sister alone either. He wouldn't leave knowing there was a price over her head as well. But if there was one thing my father had taught me, other than to kill a man slowly, was that you couldn't trust anybody. Trusting Stella wouldn’t be another one of my lethal mistakes.

"When was the last time you saw him?" I asked her. With my body holding her to the wall, she was immobile.

"Eight months ago," she whispered. "The night before my parents were killed."

I felt the fight leave Stella's body as soon as the words left her mouth. Her shoulders slumped in defeat and despair washed over her pretty blue eyes. I released the rough grip I had and stepped back to look at her. She swayed on her feet, and I had to stop her from falling over. Stella was shutting down. After what she'd been through in the last twenty-four hours? I'd expect that. If I wanted answers, I would need to stop pushing so hard.

Looking at the broken and lonely girl made me want to believe her. How could someone so lonely and sad earn a top spot on my hit list? I wanted to believe that I wasn't wrong about Ace either. I had softened and had made a mistake of trusting before, and now I was dealing with the consequences of doing so. I wouldn't so easily fall into the Harlow trap again.

"Come. Upstairs," I told her when I was sure we were alone. I didn't give her the option to argue this time. I pulled her to the steps, dragging her up them behind me.

The door opened to the hallway and I led her back to the bedroom. I couldn't stand to see her half-naked another minute. It was clouding my judgment and that was something I used to pride myself in never allowing to happen. I needed to be angry and hard, but I was getting hard in the wrong places.

"Get dressed," I told her, tossing a black shirt at her with a pair of jeans.

Stella caught the clothes and checked the tags before quickly pulling the shirt over her head.

"How did you know my size?" she asked as she slid the jeans up her legs.

"I know a lot about you," I told her before opening the door again.

I took her wrist and led her down the hall. Surprisingly, she didn't fight me. I could feel she was growing weaker. I had had her for over twenty-four hours and she had yet to eat. I needed her alive for this to work.

"This is the kitchen," I announced as we entered the room. "You are welcome to any of the food. There is no phone in here so don't get your hopes up. This room and the bedroom are the only two rooms you will have access to."

"I'm not hungry," she mumbled.

"Bullshit."

"Just kill me already," she said, looking me right in the eyes. "He told you to. Just do it."

For a moment, I felt like a piece of shit. I killed before when necessary and never cared. It was an occupational hazard, and I always followed orders. I didn't have a choice in this family. But when this woman looked at me with dead eyes revealing her pain, I wanted to save her.

"I don't want to have to," I answered honestly. "Let me show you something."

Placing my hand on the small of Stella's back, we walked to the back of the house. I unlocked the doors, leading her to the living room. The back wall was lined with windows overlooking Lake Michigan. I opened the sliding glass doors and we walked out onto the deck.

The night was dark with the clouds covering the moon's light. The sound of crickets and frogs echoed in the darkness. I deeply inhaled the fresh cool air. This place was my own sanctuary. The city lights powered by corruption and violence couldn't reach me here.

"What do you see, Stella?" I asked her when she came to stand at the railing overlooking that water.

"Nothing," she answered.

"Exactly. Nothing," I agreed. "No one will find you here. There is nowhere to run. No one to hear you."

Stella's slim fingers trembled on the wood. I wanted to soothe them like I knew Ace would, because she didn't deserve this. He would kick my ass if he knew what I was putting her through, but the bastard wasn't here to do a damn thing about it. I needed her scared. I needed her to want her freedom and her life more than anything. After all, what else did she really have left?

"Boss?" I heard from the front of the house.

"My office," I shouted in return as I ushered Stella back into the house.

When we reached the door to the bedroom, I stopped Stella and turned her to face me. Slowly, I backed her against the door. I heard the small intake of breath when her shoulders hit the wood behind her. I smirked down at her at the small victory. A tiny flicker of fight flared in her eyes right before her knee connected with my balls.

I doubled over and Stella fled down the hall. I heard her screams for help, probably hoping my two men would be the good guys. She was sadly mistaken. Those were my men. I straightened and lunged for her, grabbing the back of her neck.

"They won't help you, Little Star," I said in her ear when I yanked her back to my chest.

"Go to hell," she grunted but I wrapped a hand around her mouth to stop the shouting.

Her muffled screams vibrated against my palm as I dragged her back into the bedroom. I kicked the door shut behind me and tossed her to the bed. Stella bounced once before scrambling to the edge. I was faster and had a hold of her waist before her bare feet could hit the floor. Pulling her back, she hit the mattress with a thump.

"That was unwise," I told her as I laid myself on top of her to stop her fight.

"Get off me," she grunted as she squirmed and pushed at me.

Taking her wrists, I pinned them above her head and used my thighs to hold her legs still. The friction between our bodies invoked me and set my senses on high sensitivity. Her blue eyes met mine and I watched the fire flare in them. I loved it. As much as I needed to hate her, this was like foreplay to me.

Nestled between her legs, I hardened against her and Stella gasped when she felt it. I always liked it rough and it was difficult to remember my purpose while I held her down. Bred and raised on violence, I had grown to accept it . . . maybe even love it, or need it. With Stella fighting me, and the memory of how she felt against me before she knew my name, she was making this the ultimate turn-on.

"Stop fighting me," I practically begged her.

"Never," she hissed.

"Then we are gonna have a huge fucking problem," I said with a small thrust of my hips.