Heartbreak Me by T.L. Smith Page 0,31

hang up on him and throw my cell phone. Lifting her mattress, I look underneath. When I do, I stop dead. There are pictures. Pictures of me. Pictures of Atlas. But none are taken of me in a sisterly way. No. These are pictures taken without my consent and without my knowledge.

Lifting one up, I look at it. I’m wearing my red skirt with knee-high brown boots. I remember this day. I had to meet with Chloe as we went brand shopping, and Jesse, her husband, was out of town. Why has she got pictures of us? And why are they under her bed?

Reaching for a picture of Atlas, it’s one of him in his familiar black suit getting out of his car with a woman by his side, who I know as the lady who delivers my dresses. She doesn’t look happy, but then again, she probably never does.

I collect the pictures and stuff them into a bag. I knock on the other bedroom door, Mandy’s room, to let her know I’m here. She’s probably too high to even know it’s me. Or even care, for that matter.

“Mandy.” There’s no answer when I call out her name. Knocking again, the door opens a few inches, and I see Mandy lying on her bed with her eyes wide open. I freeze, the bag in my hand dropping to the floor at the same time my cell starts ringing again.

“Hello,” I say in shock. How I manage to speak any words surprises me.

“Theadora.”

“She’s dead! I think she’s dead,” I say, my voice quivering as I walk closer. I look at her chest and hope and pray she’s sleeping with her eyes open, and that her chest is actually moving. Closing my eyes, Atlas says my name again. I blink my eyes open and look—she’s definitely not moving.

Two bodies in two days.

How is this my life?

How is death my life now?

I didn’t ask for this.

I do not want this.

So why do I have all this chaos in my life?

“It’s you… you are bringing death all around me,” I manage to say before stepping out of her room and shaking my head.

“Theadora, where are you?”

“You probably killed her too. Didn’t you?” I ask him, walking out the same way I came in, being ultra-careful not to touch anything.

“No, Theadora. Now tell me where you are.”

“You are the worst possible thing to walk into my life, and I cannot wait until the day you walk out,” I say, wiping the tears away from my face, turning and leaving.

I run, run all the way home, and when I get there, the first thing I do is lock my door and hide in my room.

I don’t open it even when he knocks an hour later.

Then again when he comes back later that night.

I don’t open it at all.

Sometimes you just have to be free from the clutches of someone who doesn’t deserve you.

Atlas Hyde. I googled him, and what came up was a lot. There were pages and pages full of information about him. I was surprised, but every picture of him was perfect. Almost too perfect. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hand in picking what photographs were used as well. He likes to control everything.

Managing to get myself up the next day and ready for work, I open the door with no expectations. I see him standing there, so I shut the door in his face and stand holding the doorknob, unsure of what I should be doing.

“Theadora.” I’ve built up an aversion to the way he keeps saying my name. Always it in fucking full, and honestly, I want to scream at him to stop it. “Theadora, you forgot to lock it.” The door is pushed in, and I’m helpless to stop it as he comes face-to-face with me. My hands drop to my sides, my shoulders slump, and I stare at him, wondering why he’s here.

“You keep showing up. Why do you keep showing up?” I ask while shaking my head. “Stop it, Atlas, just stop it. Tell me what you need me to do, and that’s it. I didn’t agree to any of this. This is not me paying my sister’s debt back,” I say, waving my hand between us. “I didn’t agree to your games. Is this what you do for all your girls, or am I just special?” I ask the question with more venom.

“You have a function at your work next weekend, I plan to be