Page 90 of Equilibrium
“That’s good. Then you must have seen three sets of doors downstairs.”
“Yeah, and I went through the first one you see once you’re down.”
“You’ve been in the changing room. Office is right next to it. That black door, that’s the office.”
“Amazing. Thank you, ZoZo.”
I started walking backward, slowly turning when she took a hold of my arm, and spun me around, into her embrace.
I didn’t know how hugs worked, okay? So when she squeezed the life out of me, her hands clasped around me, I held mine next to my body, not knowing what to do.
“Um.” I lifted my hands and tapped her on her back, but she wasn’t letting go. “Okay.” I tried pulling backward. “It’s time for me to go.”
“You’re so squishy.” She breathed into my ear. “And your skin is so soft. What are you using?”
Blood of my enemies.
“Uh, nothing.” This was getting awkward. “Zoe, I really need to go.”
“Okay, okay.” She finally released me. “But don’t forget about the barbeque today. Boys should be back by that time.”
Yeah, if they survive.
No, stop that. They would survive—both the Nightingales or whatever was going on, and my father. We were going to get through this, and I was going to have a big cheesy hamburger tonight, hug Storm, and finally talk to him about everything.
I squeezed her shoulders and without another word, ran toward the staircase leading to the basement. I hoped Creed would know what to do because I most definitely did not.
As we cruiseddown the street, I could still feel her taste on my tongue—the coppery scent of her blood, her lips on mine. Last night I owned her moans, her body, and her soul. The sight of my name on her body did something to me.
I always knew that I wasn’t one for sharing, but with her, I would go through every fucking person out there if they ever dared to touch her. Heaven and Hell together wouldn’t be strong enough to keep me away from her.
And I hoped she wouldn’t run, because if she did, I would chase her.
I would chase after her to the edge of the world. I would chase her until she couldn’t run anymore, and I would show her everything she’d been missing.
I wasn’t a good person. People from my past made sure that I would never grow up to be a sane person, but I was hers.
Fuck all else, I belonged to her. On some insane, chemical level, our atoms merged together. They called to each other and I was answering the call. The only question was, would she?
She thought that four years ago was the first time we met, and to be honest, I did too at first. I didn’t know who she was, but when Kieran said her name, her real name, it was as if the light switched on.
I knew those blue eyes. I knew them, because on one of the days when I was falling apart, those blue orbs felt like a salve on the wound. She had pigtails back then. Those sick fucks let her run around the mansion I was kept in, and her five-year-old self found me in the backyard, while I contemplated ways to kill myself.
And she gave me her candy. She told me I looked sad, and that I shouldn’t be sad.
She told me the world was such a pretty little place, and I saw myself in her. I saw a five-year-old Storm looking back at me, because I used to think the same. But she helped me. Those ten minutes spent with her were a lifeline I didn’t know I needed. She was the reason why I ran away.
Ophelia was the promise I made. Another kid would never go through what I went through. I don’t know if it was fate that put her on my path again, and I don’t even fucking care. It was something.
The church we left two weeks ago stood in front of us as we cruised down the street, heading toward it. I didn’t want to have this meeting. I didn’t want to see Logan’s face. Whatever happened today was going to set the course for our future. We would either end up going into war or he was going to let it go.
I wanted Las Vegas back. It was the whim I had ever since they stole it from us. And I was going to get it back, the only difference was the way I was going to get it. So, we could do this shit nice and easy or slow and painful. It worked for me no matter which way we took.
Nightingale blood getting spilled wasn’t something I shied away from. The privileged, the rich, the ones on the top, they were the plague of our society.
They controlled everything, and behind their closed doors, that was where their masks fell off, where the real monsters were visible. Secrets were forged behind those doors, lives destroyed.
And they didn’t care. They never cared about the hungry, homeless, or sick. All they cared about were their assess and nothing else. And all of them had to fall.
