Page 26 of Equilibrium
I got up and crossed the backyard, entering the mostly empty house. I rounded the corner, straight to the area where the bar was located, and there he was.
My breath hitched at the sight of his broad shoulders and the tattoos that span across his body. I had tried memorizing each curve, each muscle and the ink that decorated his body when he stripped down last night. He was sitting down in one of the chairs, surrounded by a few other guys, with Atlas and Indigo on each side.
What I fucking hated though was a girl that approached him from behind, placing her hands over his chest. My ears started buzzing, and I hated feeling like this. I hated the painful spear that went through my chest, or the jealousy that burned in my veins. I never wanted to feel like I did when I found Kieran with Cynthia, and while Storm didn’t seem to pay attention to the girl, he also didn’t push her away.
Somebody called my name, but I was already in the middle of the room, marching toward them. Atlas saw me first, and whatever he saw on my face made him jump up toward Storm—no, toward the girl that placed her hands on him. Storm lifted his head, saw me and as if the realization dawned on him, he moved himself up, shielding the girl from me.
Atlas pulled her back, right behind him, but I wasn’t seeing him anymore. I was seeing her hands on Storm, and I wanted her gone. I would remember this moment later on as something that I shouldn’t have done, but right now, all my insecurities coiled within and they exploded. They wanted to see her bleed, because I wasn’t going to go through the same shit as I did with Kieran.
“Ophelia.” Storm stopped right in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Stop it.”
“Get your hands off of me, Storm.” I was furious. Furious because he allowed her to place her hands on him when only a few hours ago, he spent the night in bed with me. Was this how this story would go?
He would whisper sweet nothings to me, and every time I turned my back, some other girl would touch what was mine.
I was possessive, sue me. Red, hot pangs of jealousy sent a surge of adrenaline through my body, and I didn’t need my knives or a gun to kill her on the spot. What pissed me off even more was the knowing smirk on his face. The motherfucker knew why I was behaving like this.
“Are you jealous, Sunshine?”
“Fuck off, Storm.”
Somewhere around us an “oh, shit” sounded, but my sole focus was on getting to her. I didn’t even realize what was happening, but I was suddenly airborne, clutching onto his shoulders as he started walking toward the staircase.
That little, jealous bitch inside of me started dancing around, because here, in his arms, this was my happy place. He was taking me away from the person I wanted to strangle, but I suddenly didn’t mind.
My skin buzzed from anticipation, from excitement. I spent the whole day thinking about him, about what had happened last night, and now that we were here, I almost started singing.
And if that made me psychotic, so fucking be it. Normal was overrated, and if he could silence the buzzing in my ears and keep the ghosts at bay, I would take it.
I would take this sweet oblivion over the misery I started slipping into.
He didn’t say a word as he carried me upstairs, and I could feel the anger rolling off of him like a tidal wave. It could’ve suffocated me, but it didn’t. It didn’t because I knew why he was angry. I was the reason, but I was also the cure.
This possessive alpha male wanted me, and fuck me, but I wanted him as well.
I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell him that my skin buzzed with energy every time he was near.
I couldn’t tell him that his touch did what not even Kieran’s had. It made me feel alive. It made me feel like I belonged somewhere, and I never belonged. I was an outcast, always on the side. Even when they wanted to include me, they couldn’t, because the fear was always stronger than their good intentions.
So, they stopped trying.
My father.
My mother.
Both of them pretended I wasn’t there. I was screaming, I was drowning, but they didn’t care. My mother was too concerned about her drugs, and my father... well, he made a monster he couldn’t live with.
So, I accepted it. I moved on. But the way Storm made me feel, it was something I never felt.
It felt like home, and it was terrifying.
It was terrifying because it was raw. This connection, this attraction I felt for him, I wanted to hit him, run away, but I also wanted to stay. And I couldn’t stay.
I couldn’t give my heart to another man. There were too many scars there, and I feared that the next one would be the one to send me to an early grave.
But my body, I could give him that. I could give him every piece of me, and he could call me his, but he could never own what was inside. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want history repeating itself. They always found a way to betray me.
So, this is what we had. The physical connection he could get out of me, but nothing less, nothing more.
