Chapter 46: Atlas
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Her building lookstoo quiet.
Not calm.
Not peaceful.
Quiet like a lung held halfway through a breath.Quiet like the pause before something breaks.Quiet like a heartbeat waiting for an answer that’s going to hurt.
I kill the engine and sit in the SUV with the headlights off, letting my eyes adjust to the dim street.I scan left to right—windows, shadows, parked cars, alley mouths, traffic patterns.
I don’t look for people.
I look for stillness.
Stillness hides better.
If he’s here—if Adrian Frost is anywhere near this block—he won’t be pacing, or lurking, or standing under a streetlamp like some cartoon villain.
Men like him wait.
They blend.
They learn shadows.
They become the version of invisible Wren described when she spoke about him with her voice shaking like she wished she could delete the memory and the man in the same breath.
I get out only when I’m sure no one is watching.
The night air is sharp.My breath hangs in the cold as I walk toward her building, shoulders squared, keys gripped in my hand.Wren gave them to Kael, not me.But Kael handed them over without a word the second he saw my face and said, “Check everything.”
He didn’t need to explain.
I didn’t need to promise.
I’m already doing it.
The lobby is lit by one dim overhead bulb.It flickers once when I walk in.I glare at it like that alone might make it stop.My mood could probably power the whole damn building right now.
Third floor.Second door on the right.
Her door.
I stand there for a moment—listening, breathing, reading the air the way I’ve learned to do on the ice and in fights.Old instincts.Battle instincts.
Nothing.
