Page 4 of Equilibrium
“Atlas!” I roared. “You fucking owe me. I saved your life back there. I need to know what the fuck I am doing here. Either Storm or one of your other guys knocked me out, which wasn’t the smartest decision, I might add. So, why the fuck am I here?”
“Shit.” He looked at me, then at the door before deciding to close it and sit on the bed. “Look, love, I really don’t know what to tell you. Prez wanted you here, and—”
“Do I look like I give a fuck what your prez wants?” I walked from the wardrobe to the front side of the bed and stood in front of him. “You had a deal with the Albanians, didn’t you?”
He flinched at the mention as if I slapped him, and I knew I was onto something. “Didn’t you, Atlas?”
“Maybe you should discuss this with him.”
“Well, darling,” I crouched, placing my hand on his knee, “I don’t fucking see him trying to explain anything to me. I have shit I need to do, and the last thing I want is to get entangled with yet another crime family. So, you can either answer my questions, or you can tell me how to get the fuck out of here. It’s your choice.”
“Ophelia, Ophelia.” In a blink of an eye, he gripped my hand where I placed it on his knee. “Didn’t your mommy tell you the story of Cupid and Psyche?”
“My mommy was too busy getting high to be bothered with Greek mythology.” I tried pulling my hand back, but his grip only increased, becoming painful. “Let me go.”
“But I can’t do that, love.” The mischievous smile spread across his face. “You see, if I do that, I am pretty sure you’ll either try to run away or knock me out, and we can’t have any of those happening. I like my balls attached to my body, and if Storm finds out I lost you, they would end up being cooked for dogs.”
We both knew I would run away given the first opportunity, so I tried another tactic.
“I don’t care about that, Atlas.” I tried pulling my hand again. “You’re hurting me,” I cried. “Why is everybody hurting me?”
But my whiny little attempt didn’t work on this one. Unlike Tristan and the rest of the Nightingales, Atlas saw right through me.
“Cut the crap, princess. We both know that I won’t fall for that, just like we both know that you could kill me, right here, right now, if you wanted to. But you don’t.”
“Fuck off,” I spit out. “You don’t know me. None of you do.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But I do know that you are one curious cat, and you want to know why he wants you here.”
“You won’t have to wait for Storm to see your balls cooked for dogs,” I gritted through my teeth. “I’ll cut them off myself. Let. Me. Go.”
The uncertainty I usually saw in other people’s eyes was nowhere to be seen in his. Blue orbs just kept twinkling under the light of the room, but the hold never loosened.
“Listen, Ophelia.” He pulled me up, setting me on the bed next to him. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. Easy way means you’d be free to leave this room with me and walk through the clubhouse. Hard way? Well, that involves chains and you confined to this room. Now, be a good girl for once in your life and eat the food I brought you. There are eggs, sausages, orange juice, and some bread. It isn’t the Ritz, but it is tasty.”
“All of you are just so full of yourself.” I huffed. “Every single member of your gender always thinks that they can control me, make me do what they want me to do. You’re no different, you and your president.”
“Careful, little one.” He released my hands and stood up, walking to the tray. “Your claws are showing, and we didn’t even do anything to you.”
“You call this nothing?”I wonder what they considered to be something. “You practically kidnapped me.”
“Semantics.” He lifted the lid off of one of the plates and my stomach grumbled at the mouth-watering scent spreading through the room. “You’re hungry, and I promise this isn’t poisoned or spiked with anything that would knock you out again. I’ll show you around after you’re done, but please, for the love of everything, don’t try anything stupid, Ophelia. I am rather fond of all my body parts, and if something happened, I might as well cut them off myself, rather than wait for Storm to get his hands on me.”
“Why is he so adamant about keeping me here?” I stood up, walking to the food. I could pout, I could shout, fight and demand, but goddammit, I needed to eat.
“I don’t know, love, and I really don’t want to know. But I guess he’ll explain everything later.” He grabbed a piece of bacon off the plate and smirked at what must have been a murderous expression on my face. No one fucking touches my food. “Now eat, before I eat it all.”
I swear to God, he was so going to lose his balls.
Atlas watchedme the entire time I ate, with that annoying smirk plastered on his face. In a way, he reminded me of Cillian. Okay, he reminded me of young Cillian before the world tried to eat us alive. There was something mischievous hiding behind his eyes, but there was also a darkness we were all familiar with. His blond hair was tied in a bun, and while he looked like a friendly, good-looking neighbor, I knew he was capable of destruction.
We all were.
I didn’t realize it before, but as I ate my food, silence cascaded over us, and the weird semblance of peace enveloped my body. When was the last time I ate without a threat hanging in the air? I was always weary of people, because even a friend could quickly turn into a foe. There was something in our genetic codes, engraved so deep within, that needed to betray, to hurt, to destroy. Some of us fought it and we tried to become better people.
Others, like Atlas, Storm, Kieran,me, we embraced the darkness and ran with it. Each of us knew what we were capable of, and we never bothered hiding it. At least I knew I didn’t. What you see was what you got, and I wouldn’t be going around, pretending I was somebody else. Cute, soft girls, with flowers in their hair and sunshine in their eyes… yeah, that wasn’t me. I tasted of war, of bloodshed, of violence so painful that sometimes I wondered if this were all I would ever be.
This broken vessel made for destruction. It kept me up at night when no one was there to keep the demons at bay. It kept me wondering if maybe I deserved everything life threw at me. I was pathetic, I know, but every time the mask fell off, I felt raw, powerless. I knew what I did. I still remembered every terrible deed I did in the name of loyalty, in the name of family, and when I did them, I felt proud. I felt powerful because I thought I was doing something good.
