Her Titans by Genevieve Jasper
Atlas
10
I stroll back into the house after my meeting with Madelaine in a great mood. Of course, Quinn is there to fix that. He and Max are standing around the kitchen island discussing something that’s put a frown on Max’s face.
“Do I even want to hear this?” I ask, joining them.
Max sighs. “Quince did a background check on Madelaine.”
“What the fuck?”
“Well, I didn’t tell you what it said, did I? So enjoy courting her the fucking old-fashioned way.”
I glare at him. “You know that’s not the point.”
He glares defiantly back at me, not giving anything away. Quinn is normally the chill one out of the three of us, always laughing and joking. I know the reason he’s so caught up in investigating Madelaine is that he is scared of how great she could be for us. Until he sorts his shit out, he won’t get me on his side.
“Fine. What did it say?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
Quinn’s face looks smug enough to punch. “Absolutely nothing.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Quince thinks that’s even more suspicious than seeing red flags,” Max explains.
“It is! There was no extra information at all. It’s like she didn’t even exist until three years ago, and since then she’s been a ghost.”
I have to admit that’s odd, but do I want to rile him up?
“Yes, that’s unusual, but it could be several things. Maybe she had trauma when she was younger, or maybe she’s in witness protection.”
“And these aren’t things you’d want to know?” Max asks me, genuinely curious. I know he’s way more open to believing Madelaine is innocent than Quinn is right now.
“As I’ve said before, I want to know what she wants to tell me. If that makes me naïve and puts us in danger, call me out on it when it happens. Until then, she’s getting the benefit of the doubt from me.”
“Shit, you really like her,” Quinn remarks, his shock clear.
“I do, and I think you do too. You’re fighting it, but that’s your problem. Fuck this up for me, Quinn, and we’ll have a huge one.”
He agrees to my terms with a nod and Max thankfully changes the subject, asking for an update on how Encore is doing. We chat mindlessly for a bit, the atmosphere much lighter now that we have cleared some air between us. A while later, we all grab drinks and a seat in the lounge off of the kitchen diner. The front door slams and I call “in here” to who I’m assuming is Madelaine back from work. She blows into the room like a hurricane and I immediately feel better. Our conversation eases and I smile as she comes towards me, but she holds up her hand as I reach out to her.
“Take your shirt off,” she commands, no joking in her tone.
“Err, what?” I ask, thoroughly confused.
“Take it off,” she repeats, giving me nothing.
“I think that’s our cue, Max,” Quinn murmurs, going to stand.
“No need, I’d love to admire the art on all of you,” she says, standing in front of us with her arms crossed. We all freeze, like naughty schoolboys being questioned by the head-teacher. To be fair, I wouldn’t be against a little role play with Madelaine in that figure-hugging pencil skirt. No. Focus, Atlas. Our art. She knows about our Titan’s tattoos. Fuck. I don’t know where to go from here and I’m not the only one, as we all just stare at her.
“So you’re happy to ambush me at my work and make me look like an idiot, fuck me in my own office, but you don’t want to strip for me? You’re happy to act like you’re doing me a huge favour protecting me, when it’s probably your fault that I need protecting? Insist I stay here with you all acting like generous wankers, when I’ve never had to worry about my home burning down until I met the fucking Titans?” She’s shouting by now, flailing her arms around. She normally speaks with her hands, gesturing to enhance her point and I love how expressive and fully involved in a conversation she is, though it does not bode well for me that I’m on her bad side. “You know what, I don’t need this,” she says, spinning on her heel.
“Madelaine, let me explain,” I assert as I stand, and my words stop her in her tracks.
“Oh, now you want to explain? Why didn’t you try that earlier?”
“I didn’t want to give you a reason to go,” I shrug, perfectly happy with my reasoning. I have no intention of losing her now that I’ve found her.
Her eyes widen as she absorbs what I’ve said. “Oh my God. I’ve stranded myself with a psychopath. How did I not see this coming?” she asks, almost to herself. “I’ve waltzed into a horror film. This house is where I die,” she says, turning and wandering through the doorway, away from us all.
“Where are you going?” I follow her out and feel the guys behind me, even though they’re both staying quiet while she fumes. I guess neither of them owes her anything yet.
“None of your fucking business,” she yells back at me. “The time for exchanging information has well and truly passed.”
“Just try to leave this fucking house, baby.” Okay, so I could’ve approached this better, but the thought of her walking away from me is not something I’m keen to experience.
“Watch me,” she says with a glare as she storms off. She walks down the corridor that leads to the bedrooms, it’s that fact that stops me from grabbing her. If she’d walked towards the front door it would’ve been a different story.
“Calm down, man,” Max says from behind me. I spin to face him and Quinn.
“You think I should let her go with all this shit going on?”
“Let’s not pretend it’s the threats that are making you so crazy,” Quinn adds.
“Of course not,” Max answers me, pretending Quinn hasn’t spoken. “I just think you could’ve delivered that message better. Obviously, she’s pissed. We kept it from her because we knew she would be.” There’s tense silence while I take in Max’s words. “At least Quinn should believe she didn’t know who we were after that performance,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m going to order some food,” Quinn says instead of replying to Max. We all take a seat along the island and sit quietly, waiting for the delivery, each lost in our heads. I calm down and think over the argument again. She found out we were the Titans from someone else when she’s been staying with us for days. I get why she’s pissed off, especially when I’ve asked her to give me a chance while she’s here. But Quinn’s also right, she keeps shit from us. I might not demand answers from her, but surely that means I don’t have to reveal everything either. Plus, I liked meeting a girl who wasn’t desperate to be on her knees for me because of who I am. It’s been nice to get to know her without her knowing all the shit we do.
Even without all that, she’s amazing. She’s witty, funny, ambitious and crazy talented, plus she’s any man’s dream to look at. I know I can’t just let her go. I won’t. The door goes a short while later, pulling me out of my thoughts as the food arrives.
“I’ll go let Madelaine know,” I say as Quinn gets up to collect our dinner.
“Be chill, Atlas,” Max warns.
“Yeah, yeah.” I walk away from the kitchen and along the hallway that houses all five bedrooms. I knock on the door and get no answer from her. No surprise there. Her stubbornness matches mine, after all. “Madelaine, we got food. You need to eat, even if you’re mad.” Still no response. “We won’t even talk to you if that’s what you want,” I shout through the door, knowing full well that won’t happen. Nothing.
I try the door and it’s unexpectedly open, as is the window as I go in, but I can’t see Madelaine. I wander into the bathroom even though that door is open too and see the bottles that normally clutter the counter are gone. The open rails of the wardrobe are also empty, of Madelaine and any clothes. I run out of her room and back to the guys.
“She’s gone!” I shout at them as I rush past.
“What do you mean?” Max asks me as they both abandon the food and rush after me.
“I mean she and all of her shit are gone.” I try her phone over and over, but it rings out every time. “How the fuck did she get past us?”
We search the property for an hour, assuming she couldn’t have got out any other way than by leaving through the bedroom window. We know she doesn’t have a car, but would she have asked a friend to come and get her? If she could even get that far. She didn’t go through the main gate, there are two guys there most of the time and neither of them had seen her.
After exhausting all of our first options, we head back inside, ready to go to the office to watch the CCTV. We step into the foyer and freeze, all of us piling into each other with our mouths agape. Madelaine is sitting at the dining table, finishing a plate of Chinese food, the cartons Quinn ordered open all around her. We wander further in and she rolls her eyes as we approach, standing and heading over to the sink. No one says anything as she washes her dish and goes to walk past us back to her room, ignoring us all.
My patience has run out by now and I grab her by the arm, swinging her around and pressing her against the wall. I’m desperate to touch her.
“Do you think that’s funny?”
“Well, not ‘ha ha’ funny,” she answers nonchalantly.
“We’ve been frantic for a fucking hour, Madelaine,” I tell her, my mouth an inch from hers.
“Maybe that’ll teach you not to order me around like a dog.” Her eyes are burning as she holds my gaze, pushing me back a step. I’m not even mad at her, I just can’t stand the thought of her not being here. I’ll tell her anything at this point. Fuck Quinn’s suspicions. “You can’t control me.”
“I’m not trying to control you,” I insist. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Why are you so obsessed with protecting someone you’ve only just met?" she asks.
“Good question,” Quinn mutters under his breath.
“I know this is it, you’re mine. I’m just waiting for you to realise it. And I will protect you from now until the end, whether you want that or not.”
“Jesus, you’re insane,” she protests, but her tone is lighter and her eyes dance. She definitely doesn’t hate what I’ve just said.
“Maybe, but I’m right.”
“Who do I need protection from?” she belatedly asks, seeming to just process everything I said.
“Maybe we should clear some things up,” Max offers, and her eyes flick to him, softening further. Interesting.
“Great idea,” Quinn adds. He heads back to the table and helps himself to some food. Max and I join him with Madelaine retaking her seat, but eating is the last thing on my mind right now. When no one offers any information, Madelaine sighs and leans forward, clearly ready to get some answers.
“Who are the Titans?” Seems as good a place as any to start.
“Us three head it up, and we have people who work for us. You’ll probably never meet most of them, just the house-based staff.”
She nods, satisfied with that answer. “And the clubs we’re refurbishing are legit?”
“Yep,” Quinn replies. “I can show you the books if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary,” she says, overly polite. “Did the fire have anything to do with you?”
“Hang on, why are you getting all the questions?” Quinn interrupts. “Surely it’s our turn.”
“Okay,” she says, unfazed, picking at a spring roll.
“Why did it take you so long to give us your name?”
“People are creepy. They think once you have a conversation you owe them something. I got used to not saying it unless asked directly.”
“And the fake address?” Quinn pushes.
“It belongs to Lia’s boyfriend, Coze. They stay at hers most of the time because she has the cutest German Shepherd cross Springer Spaniel puppy that can’t be left too long. Her name’s Rue, and she’s absolutely mental.” I have no idea where this is going, but we all let her carry on uninterrupted.
“She’d chew everything in sight if she got too bored, so she needs people around. Anyway, going back to ‘people be creepy’, I don’t like giving my address out to taxi drivers or intimidating men who give me lifts home and orgasms in their blacked-out Hummers. So I give Coze’s address and pop through the back gardens. If anyone tries anything later, they either come upon an empty house or a huge, tatted Coze, who can definitely handle himself.”
Max and I both give Quinn ‘told you so’ looks and he seems suitably sheepish.
“Any more questions?” Max, who had been relatively quiet until now, asks. I think Madelaine exonerating herself has buoyed him up.
“Am I safe here? Was the fire linked to you?”
I let Max take this one, being head of security.
“You are 100% safe here, Madelaine. I promise. We won’t let anything happen to you. And about the fire: probably. We got a photo of you warning Atlas off so it can’t be a coincidence that it happened the night you saw each other again.”
She freezes, startled by the casual mention of the photo. “It showed nothing incriminating,” Max tells her, noticing her unease. “Just a shot of you in the middle of the day in the city.”
“Okay,” she rallies, and reflects for a minute or two. “I need time to process. I don’t know what else I want to know.” I’m surprised she hasn’t quizzed us on what it is we do or our reputation, but if she’s happy with what she knows then I am too.
“Actually, what is it that you do?” Oh.
“We flip businesses. Choose great locations that are run down or not being used effectively, and refurb them,” Quinn explains.
“No, as the Titans. What do you do?” My ease was clearly premature. “I don’t want to be staying with sex traffickers or anything as awful as that.” She rubs her arms in clear discomfort.
“Nothing like that at all,” I promise her. “Our businesses are most important, they make up the bulk of what we do.”
“But not everything?”
“Not everything,” I agree.
“If there’s anything you need to know, we’ll tell you,” Quinn tells her. She cocks a brow at that, clearly remembering what’s gotten us to this conversation in the first place. Quinn tries his best not to let a smile slip. “Starting from now.”
“I can work with that,” she agrees. “Anything else from me?”
“No more questions,” I confirm.
“Well, that was much more productive than the empty background check,” Quinn quips. Shit. Madelaine’s face crumples and she has my heart in a vice, it aches at her expression.
“You ran a background check on me?” she asks, hurt clear in her voice.
“It’s standard procedure,” Quinn tries to reason.
“Good to know I’m nothing special, then,” she says with an arched brow. “If we’re all done, I’m going to chill in my room.” She avoids eye contact with us all and leaves, none of us trying to stop her this time.
As soon as she’s gone, Max and I both turn on Quinn. He drops his head into his hands, looking mortified. “Fuck, I’m so sorry!”
“You should be. It was going so well!” Max says. He never gets annoyed, he’s unflappable and rational. The fact that he’s angry over Madelaine’s hurt speaks volumes.
I add nothing else, but get up and head to her door. Knocking but getting no answer, I try the handle and find it locked. I’m not worried she’s running this time, after everything that’s just been said, but I weirdly don’t like the idea of her going to bed feeling let down. How ridiculous does that make me? I run a huge business and am worried that some woman is pouting in her bedroom over me, yet I don’t want my obsession with her to stop.