Page 25 of Striker
Havoc’s laugh boomed through the room and Wraith glared at him. But it was Atlas’s glowering stare at Wraith that piqued her interest.
Chapter
Seven
Atlas drummed his fingers on his thigh and stared out the window. Their rental SUV had only five seats, so Havoc and Wraith had flown with Reaper in the chopper. Rogue drove and Viper rode shotgun. He and Molly sat in the back seat.
“How far are we from the city?” she asked.
“Three hours,” Atlas said, looking at her. There was a seat between them, but Molly was close enough that he could rest his hand on her thigh. His fingers ached to touch her but he resisted. “You can rest your eyes if you need to.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I can sleep. I keep thinking about what to tell my boss. I don’t want to relive everything, but people need to know I’m back. Then I also need to explain things to the police.”
Giving in to the urge, he settled his hand on top of her much smaller one on the seat. “There’s nothing to explain. You did nothing wrong. Just tell them what happened.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, looking at her legs.
Christ he was an ass. After all she’d been through, he couldn’t stick around to help her. He’d said he’d stay until she was situated, but all he’d meant was he’d make sure she collected her vehicle and had no issue accessing her place.
She turned her palm over beneath his.
He squeezed her fingers. He’d hold on to her for the whole ride if it gave her some peace.
Time sped by. Despite the air conditioning, the humidity was thick. The afternoon sun beat down on the car, and the A/C couldn’t keep up. Especially in the back seat. Over an hour passed, and when he glanced at Molly again, she was asleep.
Good. She’d need rest before she contended with the rest of the day. She leaned slightly toward him. Carefully, he cupped her shoulder and slid her to rest against his arm.
She groaned, and her eyes flickered before landing on him.
“Go back to sleep,” he instructed, pulling her closer.
Shifting, she scooted to tuck her legs under her and then collapsed on his lap, repositioning the seatbelt to allow herself room. He stroked her hair until her body went limp again.
In the rearview mirror, his gaze locked with Rogue’s. His friend’s sharp stare cut through the humidity, but he didn’t say anything disapproving.
And he could eat shit if he did.
Tipping back his head, Atlas let sleep claim him.
“Thank you for everything,” Molly said, as they stood in the parking lot outside Dunne International Exportation. She fell against Atlas’s chest, and his arms closed around her, enveloping her in the solid comfort she’d come to love.
That she’d miss.
They’d stopped at the police station on the way, so she could give her statement. An officer had then accompanied them to meet a locksmith at her car, then followed them to her apartment building and now she had brand-new keys to both.
She’d still have to get a new ID and bank card, but at least the worst of her to-do list was done.
Atlas rubbed a hand up and down her back. “Don’t mention it,” he said roughly.
She smiled, pulling away. She wouldn’t make this awkward. Wouldn’t cry. But if she wanted to prevent him from seeing the waterworks, she needed to say her goodbyes quickly.
“Okay, well, be safe.” Be safe. The guy probably carried weapons and wore tactical gear in his spare time. He knew how to be safe.
Atlas flashed her a smile, then his gaze flicked to the building. “I’m more worried about you. I don’t think you should work here anymore.”
She’d had the awkward conversation with Willy, explaining what Rex and his men had demanded she tell them—information about Willy she didn’t have. Her boss had been shocked and stricken, even apologetic.
Atlas had stood next to her. Silent yet rigid, as if on alert.
