Always?

Chapter 13

At times like this, he could see why everyone loved Oliver with everything they had, but simultaneously wanted to murder him in sixty-three different ways. He was so infuriating, and the worst part was that he knew he was getting under Atlas’s skin, so he kept doing idiotic stuff on purpose to piss him off even more.

“For the final time,” Atlas snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I say we do it with a bang, it will generate some hype, and the last time I checked, I’m paying you to be my manager and bodyguard, not my PR team.”

“Well, you were the one who wanted to go back, knowing fine well someone’s stalking your every waking moment, so why would you think it’s a good idea to let people know you’re coming back? Where they will most likely find you again, and who knows? Instead of a pig’s heart, they carve out yours.”

“He’s got a point,” Max said, frowning, pointing at Oliver.

“Shut up, Max,” Atlas deadpanned, frowning at his brother.

Why did Oliver not understand that, if he first spent some time getting rumours going that he was going to be returning, then dropping some sneaks that big news was incoming, to his big reveal that the rumours would true would generate a lot more buzz around him and his name, and with his one year break, what he needed was buzz so directors would be willing to work with him again. He knew that while he was working under his mother, she had burned a lot of bridges, and while the majority had understood that he really didn’t have any agency within that situation, some people hadn’t forgiven her and, by extension, him, for the way they had been treated.

“I’m done arguing with you. We’ll discuss this later; now get out of my sight.”

“Gladly,” Atlas snapped, and he stood up from the couch and went over to Alice, plonking down beside her. Atlas’s eyes inadvertently went back to Oliver, who had buried his head in his notebook; he rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Atlas swore that that notebook was Oliver’s only true friend. Sensing someone looking at him, Oliver looked up from his notebook only to see Atlas staring at him blankly. He gave him the middle finger before returning to his book.

Atlas snorted and turned to look at Alice. He watched her watch Cai for a moment, a small frown appearing on his face.

He leaned in closer to her, knocking his shoulder with hers. “Why are you staring at him like that? Do you want to kill him or f**k him?”

“There’s something about him,” she muttered, refusing to take her eyes off him. He was currently talking to Max about something, although he didn’t seem to be as interested in their conversation as he was, but he didn’t seem to care as he continued talking.

“You think he’s attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Alice said, shrugging, a small frown appearing on her face. “Objectively, he is an attractive person. But, no, it’s not that. Something is off about him, and I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it’s driving me insane. I’ve been watching him for over a week, and there is something about him that isn’t quite right.”

Atlas made a face, nodding. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I see. Well, if you figure it out, you let me know if there’s anything I can do to help you uncover whatever it is you think he’s scheming.”

“I didn’t say he was scheming.”

“Not using those words, but you basically did.”

She sighed, slumping into the couch some more. “I think he’s scheming,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. “Something about his story isn’t making sense, and I can’t figure out what it is.”

Amber, who had been on the phone for the past few minutes, hung up. She cleared her throat, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, a delicate frown on her tired face. “That was Damian,” she mumbled. “He said he was going to swing by after work. He needs everyone here, something happened, and to quote him exactly, ‘we’re f*****g fucked.’”

That got everyone curious about what had happened, and none of them could really wait for Damian to come. Helios came to the apartment after work, with Matt hot on his trail; they were both flushed from the cold and Ani, who had walked in with them, went to the kitchen to turn the kettle on and make them some warm drinks. Oliver asked for some more coffee, and Atlas frowned. That was his sixth cup today; surely that much caffeine was not good for the body. He went over to the man, sitting back where he had originally been, on the sofa in the corner. Oliver was leaning on the side, and he peeked over at his notebook, only to see chaotic scribbles in a bunch of different colours. Ah, this was his thinking notebook. It was the only notebook of his that he allowed to be messy, and even then, his messy handwriting was still a lot more attractive than Atlas’s usual writing on a great day.

Somewhere along the way, Alice and Cai had stopped arguing; they now seemed to be bonding over crime documentaries and serial killers, an odd topic that Atlas wasn’t sure how they reached, but they seemed to be having a good time in their own bubble, so he dind’t question it too much. Time passed slowly, and by the time Damian got her, everyone had arrived. He let himself into the apartment, surprised to see them all awake.

“I told you shits to sleep at a good time, it’s almost one am, why are you all awake?” he snapped.

“I knew we shouldn’t have given you a key,” Alice muttered, tutting as she stared at the man.

“What is wrong, Damian?” Matt asked, yawning for the fourth time into the crook of his elbow. “I have a nice, big bed waiting for me.”

“The group that killed Cai’s lot. Yeah, I figured out who they were. It took me longer than I would have liked, but I had to ensure that my intuition was correct, and look at that. It was, and so I say, we’re so f*****g fucked.”

“What’s happening?” Oliver deadpanned. “Cut to the chase.”

“A group was looking for them. They killed everyone, but Jack. They know of his existence. They’re every single person’s worst nightmare.”

“Well,” Alec said, scratching his neck. “We survived the Romeros, so how bad can they really be?”

“Even the Romeros hate them.”

“Who can be worse than the Romeros?” Alice whined.

“The Cleaners.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say The Cleaners?” Atlas asked, perplexed at the name.

But his question went unanswered as Damian continued. “And, since you three,” he said, looking at the women, who all looked around their home, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You brought him back here, that means they’re going to realise he’s not on the list of the dead, and they will be looking for him. And, with that, you’ve also put a target on our back.”

~*~