Page 95 of Atlas
The Report
Jolene
We left Charles, Liv, and Saffron on Tuesday morning. I had interviewed Nathan, River, Lumi, and Maximum as planned, but I’d also enjoyed some long and profound conversations with Liv and Charles.
Liv was insightful and offered a different take on the siblings than what they had presented to me. She had studied psychology like me, and during a long walk along the water, she opened up and spoke about her concerns for her adopted children.
Maximum carried the burden of his father’s sins and was obsessed with helping to ease the world’s suffering in an attempt to bring karmic balance.
River was involving herself with shallow people, placing fame and fortune over quality friendships and suffering because of it.
Nathan put on a brave face and tried to outrun his traumatic past by always being active and numbing himself with extreme sports challenges.
Lumi was closed off and distrustful of men, yet Liv felt convinced that she longed for a loving partner.
And then there was Atlas whom Liv worried for as well. His ambition of finding answers that would fix his siblings’ problems seemed unrealistic.
I agreed with Liv and promised her that I would do my best to help Atlas find peace. I didn’t tell her that my relationship with him had developed. The noises from his bedroom would have left no doubt about that, but we didn’t bring it up.
“We have to stop by Damian’s place,” Atlas said when we were driving to the airport.
“Do we have time for that?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ve never been late for a plane in my life. We’re meeting with Kit. She has a report for us on Niklavs Zakis.”
My head turned to him. “What did you say?’
Atlas kept his eyes on the road. “Before he attacked you, I asked Kit to look into his person. She has gathered information about him, and if you don’t want to read it, it’s fine, but I like to know who we’re dealing with, and what kind of threat he might be in the future.”
“No, it’s okay. I want to know.”
With a sideways glance, Atlas reached over and took my hand. He didn’t let go until he had to use the gear stick.
Damian lived in an apartment in a central part of the Dublin city center. Kit let us in and gave us big hugs.
“Thank ye for stoppin’ by. I know ye only have a few minutes, but I stayed up all night, talkin’ to my contact in the US, and finishing my report.” Kit motioned for us to come further into the apartment, where we found Damian on a ladder in a kitchen under construction.
“Hey, Damian.” Atlas raised a hand to greet him. The big Irish man came down from the ladder to give Atlas a manly hug, smacking his back, and then he turned to me. “Are ye feelin’ better, lass?”
“Better?”
“Aye, Maximum told us Nathan had to take ye home on Saturday. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to ye.”
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m feeling much better.”
With a firm hand squeezing Atlas’ shoulder, Damian laughed. “And ye, sleek bastard, went off with a blonde lass and left us.”
“Maximum told you that, did he?”
“Aye, ye cannot keep secrets in Ireland, but don’t worry, no one is judging ye. It sounded like the lass was worth a poke.” Damian winked.
I understood that Maximum had fabricated a story about a non-existing blonde woman as an excuse for why Atlas had left the party.
Kit must have sensed my confusion and thought that it was related to the slang Damian had used because she explained, “It’s Irish for she was worth having sex with.”
Damian had the most infectious laughter. “Aye, we’re talkin’ the fun type of pokin’.” He did a small thrust of his hips.
I shook my head with a smile and changed the subject with a nod to his half-finished kitchen. “Are you doing everything yourself?”
