Atlas Grove, once a dancer with dreams of dancing under the stars, now lives petrified in the shadows of abuse. To escape her living nightmare she must keep her head down and work hard, being her senior year this is her last chance to get out. Altho...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Son."
My stomach lurches at the term of endearment, nothing warm or loving in his tone. Just tactical coldness, malice that runs deep. A smile laced with it. I instinctively tuck Atlas further behind me. My father stands broad with his hands behind his back, his men flanking at his sides- I recognise a few of them but make no move to show them that, they're just twisted memories wrapped in too much trauma. I just stare blankly into his eyes, my eyes. The same cold blue shade that twinkles in the growing darkness.
My skin crawls just being in his presence but I keep my eyes on him, I refuse to look away no matter how much pain and anger surges through me. What I would do just to snap his neck In two right now, especially when he's dragged my girl into this.
"It's good to see you." He steps closer so I push my spine straighter, smothering a growl. I've got six inches on his five-foot-eleven frame and rest assured I'm using that to my advantage. There's a power in height that nobody ever seems to use for good advantage, only bad.
Moving away from him and all his toxicity has put a new view on looking at him now and everything I feared in him before makes me want to laugh. He's got nothing on me. He's puny in comparison to my build and I'm sure I could take him down and snap him in half.
"Who am I kidding," He laughs humorously, "No it's not. You look... happy." He tries to peer around me and a snarl settles on his scarred face, his jaw lined with a five o'clock shadow and an aggravated red line that runs from his cheek down to mid-neck. He looks nasty, he looks scary and mysterious but the worst thing is he looks legendry in this world, the more scars you have the more respect you have. "It's good to see you again Atlas Grove."
I freeze and turn slightly to see Atlas' pinched eyebrows, her hand squeezes mine tighter as fear seizes her.
"I-I... we've never met before" She pushes her chin up and makes confident eye contact with him for a few seconds before her anxiety creeps back in and forces her gaze to my back. I squeeze her hand back but fuck am I proud right now. It doesn't matter how long she held it for, she had the confidence to look my father in the eyes and speak to him. She's come so far from the Atlas Grove who walked into lockers and ran away red if you tried to talk to her.
"Ah. The mall." He bends down at the hip so he's closer to her eye line. Intimatding fuckwit asshole. I move in front of her so his eyes are looking onto the black of my shirt. "You kept looking around Atlas... thought you might be going insane?" An eyebrow hikes up on his temple, a snarl growing.
"You... you were following me that day." She murmurs leaning into my back. My father pulls up to his full height, looks me dead in the eyes and nods, teeth bared in a full-blown grin.
I'm going to fucking kill him. I'm going to-
I swing my fist up in anticipation of hitting his nose but come up short when a set of hands grabs my arm first. Tiny pale hands with baby blue pained nails clutch my forearm. My chest heaves watching the cruel smile curl further across his lips, his men moving in closer hands at the edges of their slacks ready to grab what's tucked into their waistbands or pockets.
