Dad speaks first. “This isn’t Atlas’s fault.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Oh no?”
Sage mutters, “He’s not supposed to snitch,” throwing a look at her brother. “That’s his fault.”
Our parents don’t argue this valid point. Nobody likes a snitch in this house, of all places. But Honey Badger defends his son to his daughter after the pause, “No secrets between us. He knows, and so do you.”
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter.
Mom interrupts before I have a chance to explain what really happened. “Sofia Sol, we have rules and they are few. You have more freedom in a day than most women have in their entire lives.”
“Except to love who I want!” I bark.
Our parents react, and it’s Dad who asks, “Sofia, do you love Luke?”
“What? No! I’m just saying, there are some things you can’t control. You can’t jail love!” They stare at me, thinking all the wrong things. “I’m making a point, stop looking at me like that—I don’t love Luke!”
“Sofia, we have eyes,” Meg says, “And you and Luke watch each other. We’ve all seen it.”
Shocked and angry I bark at Atlas, “Tell them they’re crazy!”
He’s about to come clean, I see it in in his face when Sage interrupts him, “Sofia’s right, you can’t jail love! And you’re punishing the wrong person! You should be mad at Atlas for telling their secret.” She leans forward, cheeks enflamed and freckles standing out even more, “You should have seen his face, Atlas, when they told him he needed to go away for awhile. What if that had been you? How would you have felt?”
“That’s enough, Sage,” Dad says.
Honey Badger turns in his chair and growls, “Don’t tell my daughter when to speak and when not to.”
Mom covers her eyes, “Fucking hell.”
The men, usually best friends, start insulting each other, and I stare at them, can feel tears ripping in the fabric of our home.
My spine straightens as I realize Luke’s sacrifice, and why he didn’t dispute his brother’s lie.
This house. The missions.
Our life we love so much.
They’re hanging in the balance.
He took the fall.
My gaze drifts to Atlas. I see him for what he really is, young and foolish. Barely twenty-five. As he snarls at Sage and tells her she doesn’t know anything, he’s terrified like an animal in a cage. He doesn’t have the strength that Luke has. Or I have.
“Just stop,” I whisper, coming back to the present where a shouting match is in full spin—my dad against Honey Badger. Mom between them. Meg standing, but staying clear of the punches since she’s not like we are.
My father shouts, “I never said your boy wasn’t good enough for my daughter, you stubborn bastard!”
“Dad!” I leap up and help Mom pull them apart. “We fucked up. It’s over. Just stop!” Mom and I push them with everything we’ve got. They careen backwards a few steps, only that, but it’s enough to catch our breaths as a club.
Panting they glare at each other.
Mom defends her husband and the friendship he’s about to lose as she snaps at me, “Was it worth it? Do you see why we have rules?”
Gentle Meg is stricken, tears drenching her cheeks, “You children always think that parents don’t know anything. We’re you, just older with more mistakes behind us. That’s the irony of life. You never listen to our experience. And so here we are.”
Sage wipes her eyes. “You can’t jail love, Mom.”
Atlas walks to the wall and leans on it, glowering at the hardwood floor. Our dads have called their egos to heel. Mom and I exchange a look, my shoulders stiff, but not as tight as hers.
I give them what they need to put this to rest. “Yes, okay, I hear you. I see why the rules are in place. We made a mistake. It didn’t mean anything. It’ll blow over. It won’t happen again.” I throw a look to Atlas as I walk out of the room. He glances to me, holds my eyes. Everyone here will interpret this as my being mad at him snitching, but he and I know the truth.
I saw gratitude hidden. But I did it for Luke. Something Atlas wouldn’t understand even if I explained it to him with a color-coded flow chart.
Upstairs in our bedroom I’m relieved to find Celia staring at the ceiling. Finally, someone I can talk to who won’t be an idiot.
“You heard?” I ask her, struggling to get my boots off with shaking fingers, adrenaline high.
“I sat on the stairs and listened until I couldn’t anymore.” She rolls onto her side and tucks a muscular arm under her head, long hair draped over the side of the bed as she watches me undress. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had sex with Luke, Soph?”
Balling up my jeans I aim for the hamper and miss, ignoring the heap and collapsing my tired body, yanking the covers over me as I start to tell her the truth. “Because I didn’t—”
“Want me to rat on you? Well, that worked out well.” Rolling onto her back she mutters, “Just another example of you not giving me credit.”
“Can this day get any worse?” I groan, jumping up, grabbing my robe, so I can brush my teeth.
“Soph.”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t have told.”
“Maybe I was looking out for you, not thinking less of you.” I stare at her, realizing I still can’t tell her the truth. I just protected Atlas to honor Luke’s decision, and to protect our club. One more person knowing the secret is a terrible idea. Lowering my voice, I stammer, “Because this is a burden and I want your life easy, Ceels, but that never seems to happen.”
Walking out I slam the door, wincing with regret the second I hear the echo. There will be no sleep for anyone in this house tonight, after all the shouting and now that. “Sorry,” I mutter to the closed doors, heading to our shared bathroom.
My reflection sucks tonight.
