“Do you recognize him?” I asked.
Atlas slowly shook his head. “No, but… I feel like I’ve seen that smirk somewhere before. I just can’t place it.”
“Are you sure it’s not your ex?”
When Atlas first told me about the stalking, his asshole ex was the first person I’d suspected. Atlas argued it couldn’t be him since his ex had moved to the other side of the country a few months back. I argued that he could have flown back just to fuck with him.
“It can’t be him. Garrett is taller than I am. The guy in the video is clearly shorter,” he said. Clay played back the shot of the stalker walking past Atlas, and as he said, the guy was clearly a couple of inches shorter. He looked about the same height as Becca when he passed her, so I’d place him at about five feet seven.
“And you can’t think of anyone else who would do something like this?” Clay asked.
Atlas shook his head, but shocked us all—me especially—when he suddenly smacked his forehead. The noises he let out were full of frustration.
I quickly took his hands so he couldn’t hit himself anymore. “Hey, hey,” I murmured and pulled him into my arms. His face dropped onto my chest again as he let out a muffled sob.
“I know I’ve seen that smirk before, but I just can’t remember where,” he said sadly, looking up at me.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said. Atlas had his face in my chest again and was shaking his head.
“It’s not. This guy got so close to us, and it’s all because of me. What if he hurt Becca? What if he got pissed about the cameras and lashed out in the diner? I could have put everyone in danger. I should have just kept this to myself.”
“Hey, no. Atlas, look at me,” I said. He refused and shook his head into my chest again. “Love, look at me.”
That caught his attention, and he looked at me immediately. There were tears in his eyes, but I’dprobably shocked him enough that they’d pooled there instead of falling.
“This isnotyour fault,” I said firmly. I cupped his cheeks and rubbed his tears away with my thumbs. “And I’m glad you told us. You shouldn’t have to carry this by yourself. That’s what people like them want. They want you to feel guilty, to make it feel like everything is because of you so that they can isolate you.It’s not. Thisisn’tyour fault.You’rethe victim. The only person to blame here is the bastard who’s putting you through all this.”
“I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want you to think I’m weak,” Atlas whispered, looking like a ghost of himself. He was always smiling, and I wanted to murder the fucker who’d taken his smile away.
“You’re not either of those things,” I said, a little too forcefully. “You’re anything but. I think true strength is knowing when to rely on others, and I’m glad you did. It would kill me if you had to deal with this all by yourself.”
“He’s right,” Becca said. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nobody should have to go through this alone. We want to be here with you.”
“And I know this is technically my job, but trust me when I say, the rest of the guys and I have your back. We want to help,” Clay added.
Atlas looked between the three of us, then threw himself at us. We were one giant pile of bodies smushedtogether, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t uncomfortable.
I was getting used to being hugged by Atlas, but that was because he was a really touchy-feely guy. Even before we started dating, he was always finding ways of casually touching my arm or fixing my hair. It was the little things that made me crave his touch.
But aside from him, I didn’t really go around touching others. Besides Atlas, Angelina was the last person I’d been close to, and even that physical touch had dwindled the last few years we were together.
So being this close to Becca and Clay was unfamiliar to me, and it was outside my comfort zone, if I was being completely honest. But I knew Atlas needed this right now, so I endured being squished between Becca and Clay until he finally released us.
“You guys should get some rest. I’ll make a copy of the tape and watch it back at the station. You’ll be the first to know if I find anything,” Clay said, pulling a flash drive from his pocket.
“You should head home too, Becca,” I told her.
“I can stay,” she replied, glancing at Atlas.
“No.” Atlas patted her shoulder. “Go home and rest. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
“You better,” she said so sternly that it had Atlas chuckling. “I’ll see you two in a couple of days.”
We walked them out of the front door of the diner. Curious glances were shot our way, and a couple people came up asking if we were opening tonight. I quicklyapologized and told them The Diner would reopen on Tuesday.
Atlas was frowning when I securely locked the front door again. “We can?—”
“We’re not reopening today,” I told him.
