Page 59 of Killer Confections
Wait. What exactly am I doing?
It’s a given that as long as my stalker is Atlas, I want him. Hands down. I can’t even deny the attraction and intense feelings I’ve harbored for him.
But that still leaves the not knowing one-hundred percent…
Dammit! Why didn’t I fight past my shock and lift his mask last night? I would have known for sure it was him and this wouldn’t feel so complicated.
“The next step is to confirm his identity,” I say, determination sweeping through me.
“Good choice,” my friend agrees. “Then what?”
I stand from my bed, my eyes straying to the note that still rests on my nightstand from the morning of the grand opening. I couldn’t get rid of it. Seeing it there felt like some sort of connection my mind couldn’t grapple with losing. Now, I understand why.
“Then I beat him at his own game and take the winnings for myself.”
“Boss bitch moves,” Addison praises in a purr. “And what would those winnings be?”
I pick up the note, taking in the jagged handwriting that I can’t believe I didn’t recognize. I had seen it time and time again, carved into every note and test Atlas took by my side. He had left me so many clues, yet I had ignored them. He gave me everything I needed to figure out who he was without outright telling me.
“Him.” I smile.
Chapter Twenty
Atlas
It’s a beautiful fucking day. The sun is high; the breeze is flowing through the open balcony doors of the sixth story apartment, and the streets below are filled with people out doing their morning errands on this lovely Sunday.
I would enjoy it even more if I was back at my girl’s place, but this comes first. The rush of a kill isn’t even hitting as hard anymore. I would usually be buzzing, drunk on the blood-lust that comes with ending someone you hate. But I have something far better waiting for me when I leave here.
Connor found the gym that Loxley goes to. I’ve had a raging hard-on at the scene of me showing up while she’s focused, her mind only on her workout and that fucking body that could make a grown man weep, glistening with sweat.
I’m far too distracted to even focus half the energy I usually do during kills.
Not to mention the call she had with Addison earlier…
Fuck. Me.
She practically knows it’s me, and after hearing her admission that she wants me, I’ve been hard enough to pound nails.
She still wants to prove it’s me, and I’m going to give her all the time she needs. Once she does figure it out, I’m slapping that princess-cut diamond I got right after she moved back on that pretty finger.
She’s going to be a little angry with me, but that’s to be expected. There’s a long list of shit I’ve done that I haven’tkeyed her in on—the biggest one being what I secured this morning before coming to this shitty apartment. So, anger will be natural.
I didn’t let her in on our little game, but she’s playing it so well. She definitely deserves a reward. One I fully intend to give her once this is over.
The bathroom door opens, heavy steam and the smell of some overly masculine body spray wafting into the room’s open layout.
Chance Miller stops, a hand gripping the loose towel that’s hung low on his hips as he nearly stumbles back into the bathroom. “What the fuck!”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Miller,” I wave a hand in front of my nose. “Trying to compensate for something? It’s a good thing I opened these.” I tilt my head to the balcony doors.
He’s clearly stunned. The safety of his sanctuary has been infiltrated, a stranger invading his home and destroying the comfortability and security these thin walls are supposed to provide.
His face is slack with fear, his mouth hanging open in disbelief at my presence. “How did you—”
I cut him off, placing my hands on my hips as I turn to face the balcony. “This is nice as fuck. How much does this place cost a month? Maybe a grand?”
He blinks, shaking his head before his lips pull thin. “Look, I said I didn’t want any trouble. I didn’t know Loxley was—”
