Atlas - Roberts Alyne. Страница 41

"You don't think I will do it?" I asked, feeling patronized. I was sick of feeling weak and victimized.

"I know you won't," he said, sounding fully convinced. "You want a man's death on your conscious? You want that to haunt you?"

"This is all your fault," I said. I didn't know who I was trying to convince more, myself or Mr. Omega. "All this time, I blamed Atlas for ripping apart my family and my life. But it's you that I should hate."

"Stella, run," Atlas hissed at me. I ignored him, knowing if I looked at him I would obey. I always gave in to him.

"Who do you think brought your brother into a life of crime? I wasn't the one who tied you up and kept you locked away, using you for your pussy."

Ace started to move and Atlas got in a punch to his dad's face before the butt of the gun hit his face. When the barrel pressed to Atlas's temple, everyone froze again. Ace looked livid and Atlas spat blood.

"Run, Stella," my brother ordered, still glaring at his former boss who currently held Atlas down.

"I can't," I whispered.

"Stella," Atlas barked. "You don't want to be like us. Run while you can and never look back. Don't be a monster."

Would that make me a monster? I wished my dad was here. He would save me or know what I should do. I remembered the day he told me sometimes good people had to do bad things to save the ones they loved. I even told Atlas that once. I'd seen him kill two men for me even if he said it was for his own benefit.

I looked behind me and saw the open doorway. I could run fast. I would be free forever. My hands shook as I lowered the gun just a little bit before one last bang echoed in the room.

XXX

Atlas

I closed my eyes and waited for the pain. There was a part of me that knew I would never leave this house alive. It was sickly ironic that the same man who brought me into this world would be the one to take me from it. My chest felt heavy. Was this that feeling of loss and devastation I thought I would never feel again?

The ringing in my ears faded and gave way to crying. Sweet and soft crying. Slowly, my senses came back, and I could smell the blood and smoke. My eyes shot open and I saw my father's lifeless eyes looking back at me.

"Stella," I heard Ace grunt.

I shoved the body off my chest and rolled over, my head throbbing from the blows I had taken. Ace pulled himself over to the small girl on the floor. A loud thud came when she dropped the gun to the floor and scrambled away from it and her brother.

She killed him.

"Stella," I called to her, but she didn't seem to hear me or Ace.

I never wanted her to have to do that. She was a good person and had a respect for life that I was never taught. This would eat her alive.

"Little Star," I said gently. Her big, blue eyes snapped to mine. "There you are."

Stella seemed to come back to us, looking around quickly before struggling to stand. Ace was there to pull her up in a second. His large arms wrapped around her small frame so tightly I thought he might break her. Stella pulled back and looked up at the brother who she had thought was dead. Her hand came to his face and the smack echoed in the room.

"Shit!" Ace cursed, holding his cheek.

"I thought you were dead!" she shouted, smacking him repeatedly. "You left me all alone! I needed you!"

I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her back.

"Easy, Little Star," I said in her ear. "He's already bleeding."

Stella turned on me, punching and hitting my chest. I let her until she collapsed in my arms and I held her up. Her body shook with sobs as I carried her out of the room. Outside, I set her down in the sand and let her cry. Ace came out shortly after, sitting down with his hand wrapped up in a towel.

"How bad?" I asked him.

"Grazed. Need stitches but I have all my fingers."

We sat silently in our guilt and remorse as Stella let out all the pain and fear we both put her through the past several months. We both had a choice to do the right thing. I wasn’t sure how I would have done things differently, but I wished I would have. Anything so Stella wouldn’t be falling apart in my arms over what she had had to do.

We had forced her to make an impossible choice. It was just as hard as the choice for Ace to stay or save the women he knew would die. It was harder than my choice to keep her safe instead of killing her. She could have run. I saw her look back and thought she would. I had hoped she would.

I don't know how long we sat on the beach before Stella went silent in my arms. Her breathing evened out and the shaking finally subsided. I knew Xander and my men were close by, waiting for my signal.

"Are you okay?" I asked her quietly.

"Not yet," she answered, pulling away from me. I felt cold without her in my arms.

"Stella," I started but she cut me off.

"We have to save them," she said. "The girls."

"We will," I promised. "Let me see you."

I helped her stand and looked over her body carefully. She was dressed in my shirt and I gritted my teeth knowing she was taken right after our night in my bedroom.

"I thought you ran," I said in her ear as I circled around her, looking her over for injuries. She was covered in bruises and blood. I wished she hadn’t killed my father because I would do it over again if I could.

"I thought you gave me up," she confessed.

I grabbed her cheeks and forced her to look at me. "Never."

Ace stood up behind her and shot me a glare before rubbing at some dry blood on her hands. It wasn't hers.

"I thought you were safe," he told her.

"I hate you for putting me thought that right now. I hate myself." She turned and walked to the water, wading in and using the salt water to wash it all away.

Neither one of us had anything to say to make it any better. We both put her through a war she didn't start. She fought and killed for a cause she never had a part in. The blood on her hands might wash away in her eyes but never in her heart.

"Hey guys," Xander called from behind us, approaching cautiously. "Can we wrap this up and get the fuck out of here?"

"Yeah. Go inside," I ordered and turned back for Stella.

"There are girls locked up in the basement," she told us and she joined us in a wet, white shirt. I quickly tore mine off and pulled it over her head.

"Take her to the trucks," I told Ace.

"I don't think so," Stella said, pushing off his hands. "I think I deserve to see those girls brought up alive."

I looked at Ace and dared him to argue with that. I was willing to give her anything she asked for. He looked like he might fight her, but relented and headed inside the house. I followed slowly behind him and my hate only grew with every step. Once I was in the basement, I wished I had been the one to kill my father. He deserved a slow and painful death.

The guys wore masks as they broke locks and pulled young women from the cells. Some went willingly, weak and defeated. Others fought back, not believing we were here to save them. Ace worked his way through every cell and checked each woman's face. He was looking for her. Looking around, I almost hoped she wasn't here.