Page 109 of Ricochet
“Sorry.” I tried shaking off my traitorous thoughts. “Yes, we are.”
The gleaming smile I haven’t seen in a very long time took over my brother’s face. His eyes shined with the newfound light, and I knew this was the right decision, even if I didn’t feel like it was.
“I’m glad you finally saw the reason.” Isn’t that right? “If you’re done here, we should get going. Tristan already picked Ophelia up, and they’re waiting in the car.”
Fuck, I wanted to talk to her before heading out. I wanted to try and understand for one last time what happened that night, but now we didn’t have time.
It felt as if we never had enough time.
Cillian stood up before I could overthink the whole situation, and I followed his lead, heading to the parking garage and what I knew would be one of the hardest days of my life.
* * *
In the lightof the day, the church we met in yesterday didn't seem as eerie as it first looked to me. Unlike yesterday, two rows of bikes were parked in front, and I knew Storm brought reinforcements.
Today, I let Cillian drive, and I used the opportunity to sit next to Ophelia, even if it meant I would just be dragging out my own misery, I had to feel her next to me. She never once looked my way, focused on the outside. If you asked me what would be one supernatural power I would like to have, I would tell you mind reading.
I wanted to know what was dancing around her head, what she felt, and if everything I was told was true. But none of it mattered, and as we came closer to the main entrance, I could almost feel her slipping further away.
Away from me, far away from my reach, and she wasn't the only one to blame.
So much misery between us. I would never forgive her for what she did, she would never forgive me for what I did. I hoped she would never find out.
The monstrosity I committed wasn't a murder, but it wouldn't matter in her mind. She would always see it as the worst thing I ever did, because I hurt somebody she loved.
The opening and closing of the front doors pulled me back from my reverie, and I somberly followed suit, stepping on the sidewalk next to Tristan. Ophelia was pulled out by Cillian, but she didn’t struggle. She seemed to accept whatever was coming for her. But this hellion was always a devil in disguise, and if I learned anything over the years I spent with her, it was that she always had something up her sleeve.
I just needed her to behave until we took our mother away from here. What she did afterwards wasn't my business, even if my heart constricted at the mere thought of leaving her here.
The second car pulled behind ours, and a smiling Theo exited, as if we were walking into a party and not the beginning of a war.
“You guys look gloomy.” Jesus fuck, why didn’t I get rid of this guy? He was a pain in the ass, and even the information he was providing us with wasn’t sufficient to have him around. But my father kept him with us, arguing that having an inside man in Syndicate, even if it was Theo, was better than nothing.
So the idiot stayed.
Everyone ignored his remark, and the five of us walked toward the front door, keeping Ophelia between us. The doors opened even before we could reach them, revealing a smug-looking Atlas.
He was another person I wanted to kill, and it had nothing to do with the little stunt he pulled yesterday. No, this man was one of the closest people to Storm, and I knew he did some sick shit for his president.
Atlas was an enforcer, and enforcers never did cute jobs. Cillian was ours, or at least he used to be before I pulled him out and convinced our father to give him a break. But this one, I could see it in his eyes, in the way he was observing everything around him. That calculating gaze, he was dangerous.
“Finally. Are you always late, or is it on purpose?”
“Fuck off, Atlas,” I snarled, but he laughed, stepping aside and letting us in.
“Do you know any other words, or is that the best you can do?”
I ignored his taunting and instead focused on the man standing at the altar, his back to us.
“You’re late,” he said, slowly turning to us. His eyes zeroed in on Ophelia, raising my hackles.
“So I’ve been told.”
“You know,” he jumped over the steps, and closed the distance between us, “I admire you, Kieran. I really do. You’re trying to do what’s best for your family, to protect them, and I do the same. If the situation were different, we could even be friends.”
“In your fucking dreams.”
“Ouch.” He feigned hurt. He was the puppet master, the devil. He loved to play games. This was just another one. “You hurt me, but that’s fine.”
