Page 89 of When Love Found Us
I hold his stare. “I’m always ready.”
His smirk is slow, edged with something knowing. “Sure. But just in case . . . you might want to remind yourself what it feels like to be in a fight.” He nods toward my hands. “You don’t want to berustywhen it matters.”
I exhale loudly. What’s with these guys and their obsession with me being rusty? “Noted.”
Cassian gives me one last look, then steps back. “I’m at the bar, but if you need me, I still have the same number.”
And then he’s gone.
I close the door, locking it behind me before turning back to Blythe. She’s still standing where I left her, arms wrapped around herself, her expression unreadable.
“Atlas,” she says quietly. “What did he mean?”
I run a hand through my hair, my pulse still pounding. “It means things are moving faster than expected. Sanford and his team are closing in on ways to cut Winston off before he gets here. But Winston’s people aren’t waiting around. They’re spreading out.” I pause, taking a long, deep breath. “Looking for you.”
She swallows hard. “And are we ready?”
I step toward her, letting my hands settle on her hips. “For you? Always.”
But am I really ready?
ChapterThirty-Three
Henrietta (Blythe)
I don’t move.
Not when the door shuts. Not when the silence thickens around us, Cassian’s words settling over the apartment like a fog that refuses to clear. Not even when Atlas turns back to me, I just stand there, arms wrapped around myself, bracing against the uncertainty curling in my chest.
We might not have as much time as I thought.
His voice is still in my head, looping over itself, twisting into questions I don’t have answers to. What does that mean? Days? Hours? Is Winston already too close? Are we out of options? Am I?
“Atlas,” I say quietly, my voice calmer than I feel. “What did he mean?”
Atlas exhales through his nose, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. His whole body is tense, coiled tight, like he’s already preparing for the fight ahead.
“It means things are moving faster than expected,” he says, voice low. “Sanford and his team are working on ways to cut Winston off before he gets here. But Winston’s people aren’t waiting around. They’re spreading out.” His eyes hold mine. “Looking for you. Now they have law enforcement, and things are getting trickier.”
A chill prickles down my spine, but I force my expression to stay even. I won’t panic. I can’t panic. If I let fear in now, it’ll swallow me whole.
“And are we ready?”
Atlas steps forward, his hands finding my hips, grounding me before I can slip too far into my own head. “I’m always ready, sweetheart.”
I want to believe him. I do. But doubt creeps in, whispering what-ifs, reminding me that Winston is relentless and we’re running out of time.
I inhale slowly, focusing on what I can control. “Who is Cassian?” I turn toward the door, wondering why he didn’t even introduce himself. It’s like he was in a hurry.
Atlas watches me for a long second before answering. “An old friend. You could say he was my partner while I was working for the high-intelligence organization,” he responds, taking a breath. “He’s now part of the team keeping an eye on Birchwood Springs. Someone Sanford trusts.”
I blink. A team? Why does this town need one? Should I ask? Maybe that’s a question for another day—a day when I’m not the reason for the extra security.
Instead, I shake my head. “And you? Do you trust him?”
His lips press into a thin line, but he doesn’t look away. “Yeah. I trust him to have my back when shit hits the fan. We’ve saved each other’s lives a few times.”
The words should be reassuring. They aren’t. Because all I hear is he’s saved Atlas’s life. Which means Atlas has been in situations where he needed saving.
