Page 2 of Equilibrium
I looked at my left arm, the bandages coated with my blood from the cut slicing through the snake tattoo. For as long as I could remember, this tattoo was a reminder of my love for Kieran, and now it was destroyed. I guess it was only fitting for it to end up like this.
We were born in violence, and we ended up in violence.
Now that I thought about everything we went through, I wanted to kick myself in the ass. I was such a fool. Such a daydreaming fool that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. All of them, all these men in my life, they were all using me.
I thought I meant something to them, but they all just wanted to get something from me.
Storm knocked the shit out of me in front of that church, and now he was nowhere to be found. I didn’t have to be a genius to realize that he also wanted something from me.
I wasn’t going to fool myself and think that this had anything to do with that day four years ago when I first met him. Even in my darkest moments, I thought that he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I didn’t believe in love at first sight, but Ava used to talk about soulmates and somewhere along the way, I started believing in them as well.
And that day, it felt as if my soul recognized his.
It felt as if whatever happened, if only I had him, everything was going to be okay. In that moment, just for a brief second, I forgot who I was and what was happening around me.
Back in the church, when I first saw him, when I realized that he was the one we were meeting, it felt as if somebody doused me with a bucket of cold water. I almost forgot the reason for my being there, and every single person in that hall ceased to exist. The feeling of his lips on mine, the way he looked at me as if he could really see me, it all came back.
But none of that could erase the fact that he knocked me out and brought me here—wherever here was.
I looked down and realized that I was no longer in the same clothes I was in back in that horrible place. The shirt I wore was three sizes too big, with an Iron Maiden logo on the front. The black material pooled around my hips as I sat up, trying to remember everything that had happened. Cillian’s murderous glare penetrated through my head, but no matter how much it hurt, I had to do it.
Kieran had to die.
But was it your place to act like the judge? It was supposed to be Maya’s.
I shook my head as my subconscious glared at me. It was my place, no one else’s. He messed with my family, with my people, and I was the only one that could judge him.
Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.
“Stop it!” I gripped the sides of my head, struggling to erase the thoughts that were flowing through my mind. I couldn’t shake off this weird feeling coursing through my body, as if what I did wasn’t supposed to happen. But he would’ve done the same.
Hell, he almost did the same, and for what? For a crime I never committed. I wasn’t the sunshine and flowers type of person. I wasn’t somebody you could talk to about the latest fashion because my knowledge about the latest Gucci collection was most definitely limited, unless they started producing weapons.
But I was loyal, and that was one thing I was proud of.
We could’ve avoided all this bloodshed if they only had talked to me. If they only had listened to what I had to say, we wouldn’t be here.
My old clothes were nowhere to be found, and neither were my weapons. Even the knife I snatched when we left the church wasn’t anywhere near me. Storm was meticulous, I’d give him that. I wondered if this was just another holding cell, or was he going to try and pretend that he really wanted to have me here?
God, I needed a shower as soon as possible.
I inspected my hand, well, the functional one without a broken finger, and there were dark spots all around my fingers, and underneath my nails. I was okay with blood, but now it just sent a wave of nausea through my body, and I felt dirty. Whoever cleaned me up did one hell of a job, but it wasn’t enough to remove all the filth from my hands.
I pushed the blanket to the side and stood up. A wave of dizziness hit me like a freight train, and I fell back on the bed with a weak harrumph.
“Fucking shit.”
The last few weeks took a toll on my body, but the adrenaline surging through my veins had apparently been enough to keep me standing before. Not anymore, obviously. I just wanted to sleep for a week straight with no interruptions. The world could be on fire right now, and I wouldn’t be able to move a muscle. I had put my body through literal hell.
While my plan with the Nightingales wasn’t exactly flawless, it had worked. It had brought me where I wanted to be and given me the opportunity to do what needed to be done. Difference was, this situation right now wasn’t part of my plan. Storm wasn’t part of any of my plans.
He was supposed to be a distant memory and someone I never wanted to think about. Now he was here, consuming my thoughts, and taking my ass with him when all I wanted to do was find Maya. At least they didn’t drop me in a cell with iron bars.
I could see clothes strewn over the chair in the corner of the room, and I just knew that this wasn’t some random room they decided to throw me into. No, somebody lived here. The same jacket Storm and his guys wore mocked me from across the room. The three-headed beast with its mouth open was painted in the middle of it, but I couldn’t make up the words surrounding it.
Biting my lip, I pulled myself up, slower this time, and when the dizziness didn’t kick in again, I took a small, hesitant step toward the corner where the clothes were. One step and then another one, until I felt confident enough that I wasn’t going to end up face-first on the floor. Nothing said the world’s worst assassin like the passed out one.
The closer I got to the table and the jacket, the stronger the smell of leather became, with an underlying current of oak and spice. I ran my hand over the smooth surface, tracing the words embedded above Cerberus as well as below.
