Page 21 of Equilibrium
This morning I woke up all alone, naked, with my hair still wet from yesterday. He fucking left me alone when I had so many questions. I wanted to climb him like a tree, and I wanted to kick him in his balls, not necessarily in that order. He was good at distracting me from what really mattered right now, and I hated it.
My anger was one thing I could always count on, and with him so close to me, I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to give in. I wanted to remember who I was before they completely obliterated my soul. I missed the girl I used to be. I missed that feeling he had evoked in me when I had met him for the first time.
Even heartbroken and betrayed, he had managed to make me forget about everything else that was waiting for me. He was doing the same thing right now.
Atlas was the one who found me in the room this morning as I sulked around like a hormonal teenager, trying to dress for the day. One look at my face and he shut his mouth like I begged him to yesterday. He didn’t say a word even after he took me down for breakfast.
Apparently, it was Sunday today—not that it really mattered to me—but the club had weekly barbeques scheduled for all members. So here I was, in the backyard of the notorious motorcycle club, waiting for my hot dogs to be cooked. The sun pissed me off today with its bright rays and stubborn need to burn me alive. People were pissing me off. The smell of the barbeque was pissing me off… Everything was fucking pissing me off.
Look, I grew up in a sunny place, but this level of humidity was completely new for me, and I didn’t really like it. Maybe on a regular day when I didn’t feel like I wanted to strangle one particular biker I could enjoy the sunny weather, but not today.
Chairs, tables, several barbeque sets, all of it was brought outside by younger-looking guys who Atlas called prospects. They all wore their jackets—no, wait—their cuts as Atlas called it after he nearly choked on his sandwich with my whole “jackets” tirade. People still avoided me, even after I was introduced to an older couple that could pass for my grandparents, and two other young couples. None of them leered at me, none of them attacked me, but I could feel the nervous energy surrounding them whenever they ended up standing near me.
I was instructed to sit down and wait for my food to be brought to me. I felt like a petulant child, being punished for something. Not that I didn’t have to be punished for many things I did, but... You get my point.
“Oh. My. God,” sounded right behind me, and before I could even turn around, a petite girl, with fiery red hair, sat on the chair on the other side of the table. Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed, and she looked more like a pixie than a real human being.
“I can’t believe this.”
“Uh…” I was starting to get confused. “What’s—”
“You’re Ophelia, right?”
“Riiight,” I drawled. I still had no idea who she was, nor what she wanted, but she couldn’t be much younger than me.
I honestly hated unnecessary attention. Large groups of people irked me, and even during high school, I was happier sitting alone rather than with a big group.
Her elbows hit the table, followed by the staring spree directed at me. She looked elated, blue eyes sparkling under the afternoon sun. And while I looked like somebody killed my puppy, she looked like somebody bought her one. I squirmed in my seat, looking around, trying to locate Atlas or even Storm, just to avoid sitting here with her.
Her carefree demeanor reminded me of one person I hadn’t wanted to lose, and it bugged me how easy it was for memories to resurface out of nowhere. Ava would wear the same expression, the happy one. The carefree one.
She never had to worry about the type of weapon she was supposed to carry because she wasn’t part of this vicious cycle, unlike the rest of us.
“Who are you?” I finally asked when I couldn’t take her staring anymore.
“I’m Zoe-Amelia, but you can call me Zoe, or ZoZo. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her hand was suddenly right in front of my face, waiting for me to shake it. I reluctantly extended my own, grasping her smaller one. And trust me, my hands were already tiny in comparison with some of the other girls.
What did I tell you? A pixie.
“It’s, uh, nice to meet you too, ZoZo.” I felt like an idiot saying it, but she beamed as if I just gifted her with a golden retriever.
“I can’t believe it’s really you.” She all but had stars in her eyes, but I had no idea why. Did she mix me up with somebody else? People usually had a completely different reaction to meeting me. Of course, it also mainly happened with them on the receiving end of my knife or my gun, but this was completely out of the ordinary.
“It’s definitely me.” I frowned.
“If you keep stabbing at the table with that fork, we might have to buy a new one.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I was confused with what she said. Who the fuck was this girl?
“The fork, honey.” She pointed at my hand. “Are you trying to redecorate or what?”
I looked at my hand, and she was right. There were already marks on the wooden table from where I scratched it. At this point, I’d start killing people without knowing it.
“I was just lost in thought,” I answered, refusing to look at her.
“That was some thinking alright.”
