Page 20 of Fool Me

“Canyon is back,” Atlas says plainly, swirling the liquid in his glass, and for a second I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Jude, but then his eyes flash to mine. They’re hard, colder than I expect, and filled with his own ghosts—ones I’m sure his brother put there. It’s the same look I’ve seen in the mirror so many damn times in the last two years.

Any buzz I was feeling from spending the night with friends evaporates. I thought I would have more time before I had to face this. Grabbing Jude’s attention, I say, “I’ll take the same.”

The older man raises a brow at me, but sets the drink in front of me.

“I thought you should know. He’s here and wants to come back to work for the search and rescue team.”

There is so little emotion in his voice, I can’t tell what Atlas is thinking, or why he’s here, telling me. He doesn’t owe me anything, especially after yesterday. Still, he’s warning me so I’m not blindsided.

I wrap my palm around the smooth glass. “He knows I want that job. And now he’s back to see if he can take that, too.” I look into the amber liquid but there are no answers there. “Your brother is a prick.”

“Well aware,” Atlas says, his hand tightening on his own glass, bleaching his knuckles. I know Canyon is a douche, but I can’t help but wonder what he could have done to drive hisbrother away. Knowing what he’s capable of, nothing would surprise me.

“Why did he come back?” I groan more to myself, not really intending for Atlas to answer.

He sips on the amber liquid, considering my question. “He’s selfish and doesn’t think about how his actions impact others.” The response shocks me, coming from his family.

“Why did you come back?” I ask, curious about my newfound ally.

“If Ray hadn’t needed me here I wouldn’t have considered it. I wanted the space.”

It feels like there’s a silentbutthere—a hesitation I can’t put my finger on. Like maybe there’s more to the reason he was willing to come back. “Space from your brother?” I ask.

“Yeah, among other things.”

“I’m sensing a story there.” I shift on my stool, propping my elbow on the bar, turning toward him. I’m still not sure what to make of Atlas, but there aren’t many members of the “I Hate Canyon Kane Club,” and being the president is a burden I’m sick of carrying.

“Storieswould be more accurate. Canyon and I are a year apart and were inseparable growing up, until we weren’t.”

“That makes you thirty-three?” I ask.

To which he gives a single nod of his head.

“What happened?”

“It wasn’t a quick severing, more like slow cracks in our foundation until it all caved in. My brother has always been more reckless than me, but by my senior year, I was constantly having to bail him out of trouble. The little stuff annoyed me, grew into real problems, and never stopped escalating.”

I hum in agreement because, boy, can I fucking relate.

“Being older, it felt like it was just part of my role. But I had a lot on the line. My spot on the football team, a scholarship forundergrad. Every time he got in trouble and called me to help, it put my future on the line. I wasn’t perfect. I just worked really fucking hard and knew when enough was enough. But Canyon didn’t have an off switch. He’d keep going, getting in over his head—with his mouth, with drinking. Whatever the vice, he let it run the show. Nothing I said could convince him to slow down.”

“He never did,” I comment.

“Nope. And he couldn’t understand why I was so pressed when he’d pull me into his shit.” He sighed. “The end of his junior year, he and his friends added gallons of bubble concentrate to the water treatment plant as a prank. He used my car to do it and they almost got caught. If they’d connected my car to the crime, it would have been the end of my scholarship. Shit, they could have arrested me.”

“Yikes . . . that was really reckless. Is that what made you cut him off?”

Atlas shakes his head then pushes his brown hair that’s fallen over his forehead back. “When I went to college, I got some distance and perspective. Leaving made it easier to see that Canyon had been skating by. No one, my parents or the school, held him accountable. Everyone made excuses for him, me included. But he was my brother, and I figured he’d grow up and we’d look back and laugh at what an idiot he was.”

“Your brother can talk his way out of anything.” Charming as hell, like the devil in disguise.

“That’s what I thought, but when your mouth is writing checks you can’t cash, it’s going to catch up with you,” Atlas says as a loud conversation starts up behind us, and I have to lean in closer. The smell of bourbon and sandalwood hit me. It’s warm and earthy, putting me at ease.

“I came home from college for spring break my freshman year. Canyon went out to a party, and I decided to stay home with my girlfriend, Fiona. She was a senior, like my brother. Iwas leaving her house when I got a call from a friend on the football team. Canyon was drunk and out of control. They asked me to pick him up.”

“Always the life of the party.” There’s no amusement in my voice because there’s a fine line between charismatic and obnoxious when Canyon parties.

“Except, when I got there, he was erratic. I’d never seen him like that. Drunk, sure. But this was different.” His grip on the glass tightens, like the memory still distresses him. “I got him in the car and we were a couple miles down the road when I noticed he looked pale. He said he was going to be sick, so I pulled over. He stumbled out of the car and fell into the ditch. I got out to help him and that’s when I saw the lights reflecting off my car.”

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