Page 19 of Equilibrium
“Did they do this?” I didn’t have to elaborate who they were, because we both knew who I was talking about. “Ophelia?”
“Yes,” she rasped. “Kieran did it.”
My molars ground so hard, I was afraid I was going to break them.
Instead of waiting for me, she dropped the basketball shorts to the floor, followed by the lacy underwear she had on when I brought her here. Zoe was bringing her new clothes, but when I brought her here, I didn’t want to remove all her clothes. I wanted her to feel safe, but I failed.
With every new breath she took, her breasts lifted higher, begging for my attention. I wanted to touch her, to hold her. I wanted to leave my mark on her, to replace all the horrors she went through before me. But it would all have to wait.
I lifted my hand with my palm up, waiting for her to take a first step. I wasn’t going to force her into anything she didn’t want to do. She was here physically, but I knew that haunted look in her eyes. Her mind and her soul were in the middle of a never-ending war. Sometimes you win a battle, but the war keeps going.
Hesitantly, almost shyly, she placed her tiny hand in mine, giving me a squeeze as if to reassure me when she was the one that needed it more than I did. I led her toward the shower and turned on the water, waiting for it to warm up before I hauled her over the stepped edge. I kicked off my boots and stepped inside right behind her. The space felt small with both of us inside, but I needed to do this for her.
I wanted to show her that there were good things out there. That darkness wouldn’t always win, and that there was something better waiting for her, whenever she was ready.
I kept my clothes on, not trusting either one of us not to take this to a different level when we weren’t ready to take that step. Her hair darkened under the spray of water, her eyes closing, lips parting, and she never looked more beautiful than she did now. Girls had thrown themselves at me my whole life, but none of them held me captive like she did. My heart didn’t threaten to burst at the mere sight of them, and their tears didn’t gut me as if somebody just stabbed me.
I traced my thumb across her shoulders, down her arms, all the way to her hand, entwining mine with hers. I caught myself humming “Little Angel” by Charon, but it seemed to calm her. She pulled me closer to her, letting the water wash over both of us. Her naked chest pressed against mine drove me crazy.
My dick was painfully pressing against the zipper of my pants, and as if she knew, she slid closer, palming the aching length through the fabric.
I threw my head back, unable to silence the groan that erupted from my chest. I was unraveling right in front of her eyes, and this plan of mine wasn’t working exactly how I imagined. She was quickly taking control of the situation, and all it took was one little touch.
“No, Ophelia.” I shook my head, trying to clear the fog that enveloped my brain. “Not today.”
Her long lashes created a half-moon shadow on her cheeks as she blinked innocently at me, pouting at the same time. She was going to be the death of me.
And my dick, apparently.
He wasn’t too happy. I was denying him what he wanted, but there would be plenty of time to do all the other things we wanted to do. This, now, it was about her.
I spun her around, making her face the wall, but I wasn’t ready for the onslaught of emotions at the sight of her back. Red marks marred her perfect skin, some older, some newer, but all of them held a tremor of violence, a promise of depravity and the damnation that seeped into her soul.
With a trembling hand, I traced one of them, earning a hissing sound from Ophelia, but she didn’t move away. These scars, these violent, vicious scars, they were the proof of everything she went through, and she still stood tall. She still fought against the current, even when it wanted to wash her away. To destroy her, to eliminate her.
My throat constricted from the words left unsaid, but whatever I uttered now wouldn’t be enough to erase the pain she went through. So, I took my shampoo from the small shelf perched in the corner of the shower and poured it on her scalp. She shivered underneath my touch, but she moved backward, coming closer to my body, as if she too needed this connection more than she needed to run away.
I massaged the shampoo into her scalp, untangling her hair in the process, and letting her rest against my chest. I moved toward her shoulders, kneading the muscles there, earning a small groan from her. The delicate arms adorned with tattoos I wanted to know the meaning of were next, and I took my time spreading the shampoo over her skin. I reached the white gauze that was now completely wet, and slowly unwrapped it from her arm, letting it fall at our feet.
Sharp, red lines stood against her skin, splitting the tattoo of the snake in half. I avoided the reddened area, trying to calm my racing heart. I should’ve called the doctor when I brought her back here, instead of just dropping her in my room. As soon as we finished with this shower, I was going to have Atlas ring Doctor Shiloh, to have a look at her. Her finger looked terrible, and I didn’t want to know what other injuries she might have endured during her times with the Nightingales.
“Turn around,” I instructed, my voice unrecognizable. I lathered my hands with the shower gel this time while she turned around, and the sight in front of me almost knocked me off my feet.
Her eyes shone bright, as the tears cascaded down her face mixed with the pouring water from above us. The need to soothe her rode me hard, but first I wanted to finish this.
I placed my hand between her breasts, feeling the steady heartbeats beneath my palm. I dragged my hand up, over her shoulders, over her breasts, and all the way down to her navel. I kneeled in front of her, lifting one of her legs, lathering it in soap, then the other one, repeating the same action. The small X above the tattoo on her thigh caught my attention, and I wondered how many marks did they leave on her body?
How many invisible scars was she truly hiding?
I washed her thighs, dragging my hand over her sex when another thought struck me.
“Did they hurt you?” I looked up, searching her eyes. She must have known what I meant because she shook her head, and the small sense of relief washed over my body, allowing me to breathe.
I stood up and pushed her underneath the spray of water, washing away the soap all over her body—from her hair, her shoulders, and her perky little breasts. I held her close, only allowing the water to wash away the sins of yesterday.
As soon as the last remnants of soap went away with the water, I turned the shower off, stepping outside and holding my hand for her. She took a tentative step, then another one until she grasped my hand, joining me outside of the shower.
I took the white towel off the rack and started drying off her skin with slow strokes, careful not to touch any of the injured areas. I felt her eyes on me the whole time, but I resumed my ministrations without a hitch. Her hair was plastered against her back, and I turned her around, lifting it into the towel and wrapping it around her head. I saw Zoe doing this once or twice and I assumed that she would appreciate it as well.
