Page 13 of Oblivion
“You would know,” he snarled. “You’re the queen of hiding her emotions and look where that got you.” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth, but there was no turning back. “Fuck,” he cursed, placing his hands on his hips, and looking down at the floor. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah, you did,” I murmured, hiding my eyes from him. “I think, uh…” I looked toward the door, pointing at it. “I think I need to use the restroom.”
“Phee—”
He stepped toward me, and I stepped back.
“No, no, it’s okay.” I smiled, but even I knew that it looked broken. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay. I just need to go to the bathroom.”
I turned around and started marching toward the door.
“Ophelia, please. Don’t go,” he called out after me.
“Just stay with Storm, Atlas. I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t want to fall apart in front of him, and hearing my only friend here saying something like that shook me. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know what a fuckup I was, but knowing it and hearing another person say it were two different things, and both of them sucked.
Zozo wasn’t in Santa Monica at the moment. Indigo sent her North as soon as she got out of the hospital, keeping her as far away from me as possible. It sucked, but it was what he needed to do to protect his sister from the villain living inside their house.
I didn’t go back to the clubhouse after that day. I couldn’t. I still had nightmares of seeing them, Zoe, other members of the Club, Storm bleeding out in my hands… Every time I closed my eyes I could hear it—the screaming, the gunshots, the words I tried running away from me.
It’s your fault.
It’s your fault.
Indigo said those same words to me as soon as we got to the hospital, and I believed him. In their eyes, it was all my fault. In my eyes, I knew I never should’ve gone to the clubhouse. I knew I should’ve run away long before that day, because if I had, my father never would’ve come for them.
He only did it to bring me back, to show me he still owned me—body, mind, and soul. He wanted to take the one good thing from me, but it backfired.
I rushed toward the bathroom, holding onto the cup of coffee as if it was my lifeline. As soon as the door closed behind me, I collapsed against the wall, hating this weakness coating my bones.
Pain was a powerful thing. It could bring the strongest men and women down to their knees. Having a constant reminder that you were the reason for everything bad that was happening right now, sucked.
My phone started vibrating in my back pocket, pulling me away from the misery and self-loathing I was drowning in. As soon as I pulled it out, I could see several missed calls and Cillian’s name blasting on the screen.
“Hello,” I answered as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Oh, thank fucking God,” he exclaimed. “Why the fuck weren’t you answering your phone?”
“I was sleeping,” I murmured.
“Then fucking sleep less!” he shouted.
“Hey, hey, what got into your panties today?”
“The Syndicate, Ophelia. They know your location. They know where Storm is, and they have a bounty on your head.”
“What?” I pulled myself up, leaving the coffee cup on the floor. “What are you talking about?”
“Somebody talked, Birdy. Someone told them Storm is still in Santa Monica. Someone told them you’re there as well, and they’re definitely not coming for afternoon tea. You need to get the fuck out of there.”
“I can’t leave him.”
“Both of you need to get out. They’ll be there in one hour. You don’t have much time.”
