He let go of my arm and shoved me out of his way. I stared at him as he reached into the closet and pulled the pair of black pants off the hanger. He thrust them into my hands and yanked a red polo out. Roger grabbed my arm again and jostled me.
His warning instantly made my stomach ache. Would I come home from work or class someday to find that I couldn’t get in? Would that be the way he kicked me out? Just like that, without a word of warning? Or were these all my warnings?
“Why are you still standing there? Get ready, Ryder. Don’t make this guy wait any longer. The rest of us would like to have dinner.” He let go of me and watched as I pulled the pants on and sat on the bed to put my shoes on. “Book smarts obviously mean nothing. Zack at least can dress himself.” I stood, and he tossed the polo at me and continued to throw comments in. “Tuck the shirt in. Don’t look like a slob, Ryder. Take some pride in yourself, for God’s sake.”
I tucked the shirt in, then I held my arms out and raised my eyebrow, as if waiting for Roger’s assessment.
“Well? Do I look appropriate?” I asked.
“Don’t get cute. You’re toeing a very thin line.”
I followed Roger out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the living room. Atlas stood again and stepped around the coffee table. He stared at me so intensely that I had to look away.
“Have a good time, Ryder. Remember your manners,” Pam said as she walked closer to me. I forced a smile onto my face even though I felt sick with worry about ever stepping out of line in Roger’s eyes.
“I will,” I said, barely loud enough for her to hear. Knowing that Atlas would be behind me once I moved, I turned and followed Pam to the door. I stepped onto the porch and felt like I could exhale the breath I’d been holding.
“Thank you again for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Craig. I won’t have Ryder out too late.”
I turned to look at the three of them. Pam was all smiles at any attention Atlas showed her. Despite Roger’s possessive arm around her, she beamed and acted as though things were going to be just fine once we left. I knew better. I waved at Pam and Roger and waited for Atlas to lead the way to his car.
“Ready?” he asked me.
I nodded, shaking off the invisible grip Roger had on me, and smiled at Atlas. “Yes, I’m ready.”
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Atlas would lead me to the Bentley. As we approached the car, I was surprised when the driver and front passenger doors opened and two men wearing black suits got out. Unsure of what was going to happen, I slowed my pace a little. The two men opened the rear doors and stood beside them. Atlas gestured for me to get in as he walked around the back of the car.
“Evening, Mr. Smith,” the driver said to me.
“Hi,” I replied as I got in.
The driver closed the door most of the way and then I heard an electronic mechanism engage, and the door shut itself therest of the way. Atlas sat beside me, and I heard the same electronic thing when his door closed.
I felt completely lost in this car. I’d never been in anything that felt so secure. Once the two suit guys closed their doors, I couldn’t hear anything outside.Was this one of those custom cars that was soundproofed, or are all Bentleys like this?
I felt Atlas’ gaze on me, so I risked a peek out of the corner of my eye to be sure.Yep. He was staring at me again.I slowly turned my head and looked at him.
“I don’t like red on you,” he said. Was that his conversation starter? His tone sounded really kind when he said it. It confused me because I wasn’t sure how I should take that.
Roger’s words about being polite rang in my head, and I felt as though I should say something or apologize. I looked down at my shirt and smoothed the fabric with my hand. I noticed all the little pilling spots around the waistline that were visible and quickly looked at him. I hoped he hadn’t noticed them.
“Yeah, I’m not a big fan of red either. I mainly wear blue shirts to work, and even though I have a blue polo, I went for the red one tonight. I thought it was kind of different.”And my blue polo looks like shit and the collar is faded and worn. Though, this red one isn’t much better. Obviously, I failed in the clothing department tonight.“And I didn’t want to feel like I was still in work clothes.”
His eyes were like magnets, and it was so hard to pry my gaze away from his. I managed to disengage long enough to glance out the windshield. I noticed we were on the freeway, which surprised me because I hadn’t felt the change from the surface streets. These Bentleys were ridiculous.
“I wasn’t talking about the color of your shirt, Ryder.”
I frowned and latched my gaze to his again. Roger was right; I wasn’t with it. Confused, I opened my mouth and said, “I’m lost. What do you mean?”
I had no choice but to follow the path of his gray eyes as they settled on my arm. The air left my lungs, and my stomach dropped when I saw the red marks from Roger’s hand peeking out from the sleeve. Suddenly, my mouth was as dry as a desert and felt as hot as one. I was thoroughly embarrassed as I tried to tug the sleeve down.
“Relax, Ryder.”
Yeah, I doubt that will happen.
I really didn’t know what to say and kept quiet as I looked out the window. We were close to LAX, and I could see the planes taking off. The car was silent, and I worried about what he was thinking. And the two guys in the front. Were they listening? Did Atlas think I was a shitty guy who needed discipline? Did he think I was being beaten at home? Did he think Roger and I fought? People were savvy enough to not think the worst of someone with marks on them. But I wasn’t sure what Atlas thought, and that bothered me.
I was instantly pissed off for being worried about what Atlas thought. Why the fuck did it even matter? All my recent thoughts about how Omnia Academy probably wasn’t very great and how Atlas was sent to feed me garbage lines came rushing back in. I was angry I was here in this damn car going God knew where.
