Page 120 of Equilibrium
His other hand dropped to my pussy, pinching my clit painfully and I was gone.
Falling.
Drowning.
Sinking down.
The ringing in my ears was only penetrated by their groans. Black spots danced around Cillian’s head and I couldn’t keep myself upright anymore. My head dropped to Kill’s shoulder and with a few last strokes, both of them stopped, their bodies shaking against mine, following their orgasms.
My eyes started drooping down, regret dancing on the edge of my consciousness, but I didn’t want to think about it now. The only thing I wanted right now was to sleep and disappear for a moment.
The smellof antiseptic tickled my nose, reminding me of doctors in white coats, endless bruises and cuts I had survived over the years in that house of horrors. I begged them to take me away. I begged them to help me, to call somebody, but help never came. The only thing that ever came was the whip on my back and cuffs around my wrists.
It was often painful, remembering innocence lost and the depravity I witnessed, but it was necessary. I didn’t want to forget, because then I would have nothing left to fuel this simmering rage I had. It built and built and built, and now was the time to unleash it on all of them. I just had to be patient.
I had to start paying better attention to the situation. If I had, we wouldn’t be sitting here at two in the morning, watching over Atlas’s sleeping form. His shoulder was bandaged, his skin pale and sweaty as he fought against the infections that were threatening to take over his body. I looked at Indigo whose eyes didn’t stray from the man in the bed—not for one second—and again I cursed myself for putting us in this situation.
I was cocky, full of myself. I had thought we had handled that situation. I assumed Logan would have additional backup and so did we, but our guys were too far to help us when we needed it, and it was all my fault. I gave the orders, I brought them to that Godforsaken church, and we almost lost one of our brothers.
As soon as we walked out of that door, I called Diego, an ally who didn’t belong to the club, nor did he belong to any of the other organizations. He liked to call himself Team Switzerland, but I never thought I would need him for a situation like this. The Old Casino was once a place where underground fights happened, all organized by Italians who had an agreement with us. It all fell apart when the Nightingales burned our people alive and ambushed their boss.
Last I heard, they all retreated to Chicago, holding a grudge against the East Coast.
Diego called in a few favors and once we arrived at the place, a doctor was already waiting with a makeshift operating table and one scared-looking nurse. I didn’t ask questions. I honestly didn’t care where he found them. The only thing that mattered was helping Atlas. I couldn’t remember the last time one of us bled like this. It was probably years since we allowed ourselves to be in this kind of situation. No, I allowed us to stumble into this—blind, reckless, uncoordinated.
The terror I felt when Atlas stopped moving, Indigo’s yelling from the backseat of the Range Rover we brought with us, my reckless driving and Hunter trying to calm us all down, it was all still fresh in my mind. Felix kept quiet the whole time, but I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel the accusations and he wouldn’t be wrong.
This was all my fault.
“I can hear you thinking, and you need to stop,” Indigo muttered, still looking at Atlas. His dark hair was disheveled and there were dark circles around his eyes, but no matter how many times I tried to tell him to get some sleep, he wouldn’t listen to me. He disregarded my pleas to get something to eat, to change from his bloody clothes. He wouldn’t move.
So, I let him be because I knew that look on his face. I just didn’t think that he was ready to talk about it, and it probably wasn’t my place to ask.
“I’m not thinking about anything.”Liar. I was consumed by my own thoughts, but Indigo didn’t need to know that. I would spend the rest of my life apologizing to all of them for putting them through this. I just needed Atlas to wake up so that I could make this right.
My legs were sore from standing in the same position, my eyes droopy from the lack of sleep and the only thing I wanted to do right now, the only place I wanted to be was our bed, with Ophelia in my arms. How was I going to tell her that not only did I fail to tell her about the deal, but I almost had Atlas killed, and I lost Logan who now knew that she was with me?
Sliding down the wall, I bent my knees, resting my elbows on them. God, I just wanted to sleep.
“You’re gonna want to apologize, but this isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it?” I chuckled. “If it weren’t for my foolish attempt to get Las Vegas back, we wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be lying to Ophelia about my whereabouts, and we wouldn’t be having this fucking conversation. So yes, it definitely is my fault.”
“You didn’t put a bullet in his shoulder,” he argued as he looked at me over his shoulder. “Don’t try to make yourself look like a villain when the real one is still out there. We need to get to him and make him pay for everything he did.”
I looked at the ceiling, unable to see his face. “I wasn’t the one holding the gun, but Atlas wouldn’t be lying here if it weren’t for me. That, there,” I pointed toward Atlas, “that should’ve been me.”
“There’s no use in killing ourselves over what-ifs.” He stood up for the first time in the last couple of hours, cracking his neck and shaking his limbs.
“I’m sorry.”
He crossed the room and walked to me, then sat down on his haunches. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, but I do need you to get up and start thinking about a new plan. One that hopefully doesn’t involve that church anymore, because I am really tired of seeing it. He’s going to be okay.” He looked at Atlas, a thousand emotions written over his face. “He has to be.”
A better man would know how to tell him that Atlas was indeed going to be okay. The doctor himself said so, explaining that the bullet went right through, avoiding all of his vital organs and bones. He would have a lengthy recovery, but Atlas was going to be okay.
Physically at least.
Placing my hand on Indigo’s shoulder, I squeezed tight, trying to show everything I couldn’t voice, trying to reassure him. Or maybe I was reassuring myself, I didn’t know.
