Page 69 of Equilibrium
Present
She came to me.
All these years, I thought she didn’t give a shit, but she came here, and that motherfucking idiot ruined it. As soon as she said his name, I knew who it was. I fucking knew because that lying son of a bitch managed to get into my good graces. I thought he was truly one of us—abandoned as a child, scraping for leftovers behind the restaurants, in garbage—I fucking thought he knew what it meant to find a family and be loyal to them.
He made a fool out of me. He could’ve cost me everything I ever wanted to have in my life, and he was going to pay. The phone I held in my hand went flying across the room, smashing against the wall behind the bed. Four years... Four fucking years I’d been looking for her because he turned her away. Because that spineless little shit didn’t let me know she was here.
I started pacing the room while Ophelia stood still at the threshold to the bathroom with an emotionless expression on her face. No wonder she didn’t want to have anything to do with me when I brought her here. I was surprised she didn’t try to fucking kill me the first time she saw me in that church. That idiot manipulated us both, pushed her away from me, pushed her into the embrace of another fucked-up family.
Where was the fucking common sense in people these days? I almost went crazy looking for her, reassuring myself she was real, she was mine, that I didn’t make it all up in my messed-up mind just because I wanted to feel better.
“Storm.”
“Not right now, Sunshine.”
Molten lava ran through my veins. The need to suffocate the life out of him overpowered every other sense, every other emotion. To kill, to destroy, to eradicate from this earth, because he didn’t deserve to live after this. Every single person in our club knew I would burn Heaven and Hell just to get to her, and he fucked up.
“You really didn’t know I came here?” Her voice was barely a whisper, slicing through me over and over again. I tried calming my breathing, my rage, because she was the last person I would want to hurt, and right now, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. “Storm?” I felt her hand before I heard her voice. Her hand on my shoulder felt like a cold shower over my burning skin, but I still couldn’t turn around. “Look at me, Storm.”
I couldn’t. One of my people betrayed her. One of the people I thought I could trust fucked it up.
“I can’t. I-I... I want to fucking kill him.”
“Just look at me.” Instead of turning me around, she walked around me, stopping right in front. “Hey.” Placing her hands on my face, she inched closer until her breasts were plastered against my chest. Her heat seeped into me, her scent enveloped me and for a moment I forgot about the man I was going to kill. There was only her, her scent, her ocean blue eyes I wanted to get lost in and a strange sense of peace fell over us. “I thought you didn’t want me.”
Goddammit. Sorrow was etched into every pore on her face and her eyes betrayed the emotions she usually tried to hide. Fear, loneliness, sadness, it was all there for me to see.
I placed one hand over hers, still stroking my cheek, and the other one behind her neck, pulling her closer until our foreheads touched. “I thought I made myself clear when I said I wanted you and only you.” Our breathing elevated, the electricity charging through the room, and if the world ended right now, I would be a happy man because she was here. After everything, she was here, and she was slowly opening up. “I looked for you everywhere. I almost went insane thinking I made it all up, because you were nowhere to be found. You didn’t give me your name, you didn’t tell me where you lived, you didn’t tell me anything. And I waited, Ophelia. I waited for four years for you to come to me, to find me, to show me that everything that happened on that cliff wasn’t just a product of my imagination.”
With a trembling lower lip she muttered, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be with you. All those plans, all those dreams we talked about before everything went to shit... I still want them, Storm. I still want to be happy, to ride into the sunset, to see the world. I still want to find a place for myself. A place where I could be truly me, without all this pain and all this sorrow surrounding me. I don’t want to be just a boogeyman. I don’t want to be just the creature of nightmares.”
I kissed her forehead. “I know, Sunshine.”
“And I wanna be here with you,” she continued on a shaky breath. “I want to see where this could lead, but I also need to save my sister. My family... They are fucked up. I mean, I’m fucked up, but my father...” she trailed off. “He sold her. He would’ve done the same to me if I hadn’t become what I am today. And I feel like I am going in circles in my head. To run or not to run, to be happy or to be miserable, and I can’t. I just can’t.” She dropped her hands and walked to the bed, turning her back to me. “I don’t think you could ever love a monster, Storm.” Her shoulders shook as she slowly turned around facing me again. Shadows danced on her face, and it took everything in me not to walk over and take her in my arms, hold her, tell her that everything would be okay. I wanted to tell her that the only monsters were those that fucked her up, but I also knew how hard it was coming to terms with everything you did. “They couldn’t love me.” Her voice broke as she collapsed on the bed, putting her head between her hands. “None of them could love. None. And I’m so tired of this life, Storm. I’m so tired of running and hiding, and killing and suffering, and being somebody’s puppet.” Her voice started rising with every new sentence. “I’m just so fucking tired!”
She was killing me. She was fucking killing me with her words, and she didn’t even know it. If I could, I would take away all this pain she felt and mix it with my own. In three steps, I crossed the room and dropped to my haunches in front of her, placing my hands on her knees.
“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t wanna hurt you, I don’t wanna hurt them, but I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to stop being what they made me to be. I don’t know how to stop looking for my sister even though I know it will most probably kill me. I don’t know how to be with you. I don’t know how to give you my heart when they destroyed it years ago.”
“Phee. Stop, please.”
“I don’t know how to be loved, Storm.” She lifted her head and looked at me. “I don’t even know how to be a human because I’ve been suppressing every single emotion. For years, the only thing I knew how to do was to be numb. I don’t know how to love you, Storm. I don’t know how to trust you, and I want to. I want to trust you, I want to be with you. I want to be happy, but I don’t know how. One minute I want to stay here, I want to wake up with you, I want to belong, and in the next one, I want to run, I want to hide, I want to be the assassin they made me out to be. Don’t you get it?” Her chest heaved, her cheeks wet from tears and when she dropped her hands on top of mine and started tracing the tattoos with her fingers, I started getting afraid.
Afraid that this was a breaking point, that she wouldn’t want to stay. I was fucking terrified that the next thing that would come out of her mouth would be her leaving me, and I wasn’t sure if I would allow her to do that.
“I’m not good enough. I was never ever good enough. Not for them, not for Ava, not for Kieran and I know I’m not good enough for you. The only thing I’m good at is destruction. The only thing I can bring with me is misery, and I don’t want that for you or your people.”
“You’re not—”
“But I am.” She chuckled, the sound broken and colored with pain. “I am destruction, Storm. I am not sunshine as you like to call me. I am not the girl that could observe the world with rose-colored glasses and smile at everything. I killed innocent people—women, children, men that did nothing but try to protect their families, and I did it all for the Syndicate. There are days where I can feel their breath on my neck, their hands on my shoulders and their voices in my ears. There are days where their faces seem so angelic until they turn demonic, screaming at me, blaming me, as they should.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I did nothing but listen to her. The laughter and hushed voices from the outside seemed so far away, and my only focus was on her. I ran my thumbs over her naked knees, drawing circles and trying to show her I was here for her, even if she didn’t want me here.
“I killed them all.” She hiccupped. “And I felt nothing when I did it. I didn’t feel bad for them, I didn’t feel sad, I just felt nothing!”
Remorse was one of the worst feelings a human being could possibly have, and she was drowning in it. I just didn’t know how to help her.
“And I miss it, you know?” She turned her head, looking at the window. “I miss the adrenaline from every new mission. I miss being needed, being good at something. It’s a fucked-up thing, but I miss holding the knife in my hand and feeling like a god against those that wronged me and my family. And that’s wrong.” She turned to me. “It’s so wrong, but I don’t know how to stop feeling like this. I miss being numb, being cold. Something happened to me in that church and now it’s as if the dam broke and everything I’ve tried running away from, finally caught up with me. The doors opened and I’m suffocating. I’m drowning.”
