Page 232 - It Ends with Us

I lock the screen on my pho ne and set it on my bed . It’s dark

outside no w, so I immed iately see the scroll of the hea dlight s as
someo ne pulls int o the driveway. I ins tant ly kno w tha t it isn’t Atlas,
bec ause he uses the drivew ay to the side of the ho use and parks in the
garage. My hea rt beg ins to race as fea r rushes thro ugh me. Is it R yle?
Did he find out where Atlas lives ?
Moment s later, there’ s a loud kno ck at the front door. More like

pound ing . The doorbel l also ring s.
I tiptoe to the wind ow and barel y move the curtains over far
eno ugh to take a look outside. I can’t see who ’s at the door, but
there’ s a truck in the drivew ay. It does n’t bel ong to R yle.
Could it be Atlas’s girlfriend ? Cassie?
I grab my pho ne and make my way down the ha llway, toward the
living room. The pound ing on the door and the chi me of the

doorbel l are still going off simultaneo usly. Who ev er is at the door is
bei ng ridiculously impatient . If it is Cassie, I alrea dy find her
ex tremel y anno ying .
“Atlas!” a guy yel ls. “Open the damn door!”
Ano ther voice—a lso male—y el ls, “My balls are freez ing up! They ’re
raisins , man, open the door!”

Bef ore I open the door and let them kno w Atlas isn’t ho me, I tex t
hi m, ho ping he’s about to pull in the drivew ay and dea l with thi s
hi msel f.
Me: Where are you? There are two men at your front door and I have no idea
if I should let them in.
I wait thro ugh more pres ses of the doorbel l and more pound ing ,

but Atlas does n’t immed iatel y tex t me back. I fina lly walk to the door
and lea ve the cha in bolted , but unl ock the dea dbolt and open the
door a few inc hes .
One of the guys is tall, about six feet or so. Des pite the youthf ul
look to hi s face, hi s ha ir is salt and pep per. Black with a little bit of

gray sprink led in. The other one is sho rter by a few inc hes , with sand y
brown ha ir and a baby face. They both look to be in thei r late
twent ies , maybe ea rly thi rties . The tall one’s face twists int o conf usion.
“Who are you?” he asks, peek ing thro ugh the door.
“Lily. Who are you?”
The sho rter one pushes in front of the taller one. “Is Atlas here?”