Page 37 of Equilibrium
“I will. Just not…” I paused. “Not right now, okay? I don’t want to give her one more reason to leave.”
“And you think lying to her is the way to build this relationship, or whatever this is?”
I looked at him, hating what he said, because he was right. This wasn’t how I wanted to start with Ophelia, but it was the only way for now. Her fight-or-flight instincts were on an all-time high right now, and I had the feeling that even the smallest of things could set her off and make her run away.
The need to protect her right now, to keep her close to me, rode me hard, and I wasn’t going to fight it. I would give her space, if that’s what she wanted to have right now, but I wasn’t letting her go. She wanted to save her sister? Okay, I could help. Hell, I would repeat my whole childhood if she were going to stay.
“You are fucking whipped, aren’t you?” Atlas started again, and as much as I loved the guy, right now I didn’t want to listen to him. “You can’t stop staring at her.”
“Get to the point, Atlas.”
“I already did, you just chose to ignore me and stare at her. Listen,” he placed his hand on my shoulder. “I remember you behaving like a lunatic while you were trying to find her, and if it’s possible, I would like to avoid the same shit from happening again. She is wounded, fucked up, and if you really want this to become something that could last for years, you need to find those balls—”
“Hey,” I interrupted, but the bastard just started chuckling.
“My point is, you can’t expect her to trust us if you don’t trust her.”
Was that the problem? Did I not trust her?
I trusted that she wouldn’t attack innocent people here just to get away, but I had to admit it—I didn’t trust her not to do something reckless just to do what she thinks she needs to do. I have never met a person with a bigger savior complex than her. First that friend of hers she was with four years ago, now her sister. Who was going to be next?
And for all her fucked-up shit, I had a feeling that the last person she ever thought about was herself.
“Uh-oh,” Atlas started when my eyes zeroed in on a very angry looking Ophelia, marching toward us. My first fucking thought should’ve been to run away because the murderous look she wore... No, I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that, even though I was absolutely going to be.
Atlas all but ran away from me, leaving me alone with her.
Her nostrils flared as she stopped in front of me, while the wind played with her hair, messing it up even more than it already was. Angry eyes connected with mine, while I was rooted in the spot, waiting for her to speak first. That scar on her cheek was messing with my head and raising my blood pressure. I had to stop myself from touching her right now.
Her body language told me that that was the last thing she wanted.
“Can we talk?” she asked through gritted teeth, crossing her arms on her chest. The leather jacket she took from me was four sizes too big, but goddammit, it looked good on her.
“Go ahead.” I was still fucking pissed off about the little stunt she pulled back at the clubhouse. Riding on Atlas’s bike, ignoring me after that shit in my room... No, I wasn’t okay with that. She infuriated me, made me want to run to her and run away from her. I both hated and reveled in the fact that she had the power to bring me to my knees. Those ocean eyes could be my undoing, and I didn’t mind being here for the ride.
She narrowed her eyes, tracing her eyes over my jaw, stopping at my lips. Her own parted as if she remembered something, and as her teeth bit into her lower lip, I wanted us to be anywhere else but here. Back in my room, back in the clubhouse, just away from all these people and the curious stares they were throwing our way. Her eyebrows furrowed, creating a little V in the middle, and I wasn’t sure if she hated what she was seeing, or if she too remembered what we did just a few hours ago.
Did she remember the way she melted in my arms, when the masks finally fell off and I could see what was beneath the tough exterior she wanted to portray to the rest of the world? It was insane how connected I felt toward her, and it went beyond the physical attraction and what her body could do to mine.
No, this was the carnal need, as if something inside of me said “mine.” I never really stood a chance against her and the way her mere presence calmed down the tempest inside my chest. Right now, I wanted to inhale her unique scent mixed with my shampoo. I wanted to wrap my hands around her wild hair and bring her to me until our bodies collided and not one single inch separated us. I wanted a lot of things I couldn’t have, but she was the one thing I wouldn’t mind dying for.
Her trance and the way she looked me over finished faster than I was ready, and that dreamy look she sported mere seconds ago got replaced by a sneer and torment in her eyes. Retribution, revenge, it was written all over her pale skin, etched into the pores, and right now I was going to be the recipient of her wrath.
“Why the fuck am I here, Storm?”
“Because we usually come here after every single barbeque?” I couldn’t help myself but rile her even more. Everything was better than the look of indifference she sent my way when she came out of the shower today.
I would take her anger over that cold look, every day. She wanted to hide? Fine, I could understand that. But I didn’t want her to hide from me. I didn’t want her to think that she had to be anything else than what she already was. Whoever made her believe that she had to put a mask on her face, they were wrong.
She was strong, but she was also vulnerable. Contrary to popular belief, she fucking cared about people. Maybe not all, but not everyone deserved to have someone like her to care about them. She was desperate to find her sister, but she wasn’t in shape to get to that right now.
“You are fucking infuriating.” She almost stomped her foot like a child. “The most egoistical, self-righteous, asshole.”
Oh, I loved this game. The one where she pretended she didn’t care about me, that she hated me and wanted to see me gone. I didn’t need years to understand that she guarded her heart behind stone walls because she didn’t want to get hurt. In retrospect, I was the same, but I wanted to give this a chance. I knew we could be amazing together.
“That hit to your head must have messed something up, Sunshine, because none of these nicknames are very creative.” It was as if something in me wanted to see her angry. I wanted her to lash out, to scream at the situation. I also wanted her to see that she could have a little piece of heaven here. That the club accepted even the outcasts, and it didn’t matter what she could and couldn’t do.
The weak hit to my shoulder came out of nowhere, but as she swayed on her feet, I regretted bringing her out when she was in no condition to be outside right now. I had no idea what the extent of her injuries was, or if there was something wrong internally, but I wanted her to experience this.
