Page 64 of Oblivion
All these years living on this Earth, convinced that the blood running through my veins was nothing but a poisonous tar set to destroy everything I’d held dear. It was a heavy burden, carrying this last name. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if I projected this picture of myself just to keep other people away, or if this was who I truly was.
The whispers in the dark, the names they gave me, they all piled up on top of my back, getting heavier and heavier with every year, and I carried it because I thought I had to.
I didn’t need a shrink to know that the regrets I had didn’t only stem from everything I'd done, but also from everything Nikolai did. I had a feeling that I would never truly uncover every monstrous deed he'd committed.
I labeled myself, made myself believe that this was all I could ever have, all that I could ever be, and I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I’d pushed people away, cheated, killed, maimed, and I knew I would do it again if only to protect those I loved.
It’d been a month since Lazar visited me, and now standing here in the middle of the street, as the sun kissed my skin and sweat rolled down my back, I had no idea what I was going to say to him. I didn’t want The Syndicate. It was never my intention to take over even when Nikolai did everything to steer me in that direction.
All I wanted was a small place where I could finally find peace, without horrors, without violence, without anything vicious darkening the skies of my life. Was I ever going to get there?
I rushed across the street, heading toward a small coffee shop standing on the corner of Fifth and Haldon, my hands shaking from nerves for the first time in years. I had no idea what I was going to say to Lazar.
I couldn’t get over the fact that he let Nikolai do all those things—torturing me, my mother, my sister… I couldn’t forgive him for abandoning us, for being yet another person who didn’t try too hard to keep me in his life.
It was like a repetitive song over and over again, because no matter what, it seemed that I wasn’t worthy enough for any of them to fight for me.
I thought for sure that Storm would come. I thought that he would know better than to believe I’d died in that fire, but I hadn’t seen any bikers, or anyone really. Everything had been quiet, too quiet for me, and I had no idea if this was the calm before the storm or if I’d become too paranoid in my life to truly relax.
Kieran was going after Maya.
Nico and Cole were working overtime to protect both their assets and me. Tristan was slowly uncovering the things I never would have imagined about Nikolai and the secret society he was entangled with.
But there was something in the air. Something that wouldn’t let me rest. Even as I sat down on one of the chairs overlooking the entrance to the park where families came and went, I couldn’t relax my brain long enough to stop looking for possible threats.
I had to hide who I was, but there was only so much I could do. I pulled out my phone, checking the time.
I hated being the last one to come to the scene, and it was no different now. I was supposed to meet Lazar at three o’clock, but I decided to come here fifteen minutes earlier. I wanted to believe him, to truly trust him, but I couldn’t.
There would always be a part of me that wouldn’t be able to trust other people. Even though it could be my downfall, it could also be my salvation.
Cillian suggested I color my hair, and I still couldn’t get used to the blond hair, framing my face, reflected on the dark display of my phone. The long-sleeved shirt I wore wasn’t such a good idea, considering that summer was here and everyone around me walked as if they lived in California and not in Ventus City, surrounded by mountains. But I couldn’t risk showing my tattoos.
Ordinary passersby wouldn’t know who I was, but there were still people planted by those who wanted me dead, that could look like regular folk, but were sleepers, tasked to watch and search and report as soon as they found something.
I knew that if Lazar wanted me dead, I would’ve been dead by now, but I couldn’t shake off this feeling of doom, wrapping its long talons around my lungs, making it harder to breathe. I should’ve felt safer now that Nikolai was dead, but it was as if his death started a domino effect and no one was safe.
Not even me.
“Good afternoon,” a man spoke from my left, and I turned my attention from the park and passing cars to look at him. “What can I get you today?”
He was around my age, his blue eyes kind, shadowed by darker eyebrows and sandy hair. I finally relaxed when I saw the apron with the logo of the coffee shop I was sitting at.
“Uh…” I looked at the table in front of me and then back at him. “Iced mocha, please.” I smiled. “And a butter croissant.”
He started writing down the order as I saw a familiar car parking just next to the coffee shop on the side of the road.
Lazar stepped outside, taking in his surroundings much like I did earlier. I couldn’t see any guards, but I knew that they were around—watching, waiting. I had an inkling that as much as I didn’t trust him, he had every reason not to trust me either.
My heart thundered in my chest, slamming against my ribs, and I couldn’t help myself but start noticing similarities between him and I. I always thought I looked more like my mother than my father, apart from the eyes, of course, but where Nikolai’s were always cold and calculating, Lazar’s held a hint of warmth that I had a feeling he didn’t show all that often.
I stood up as he started walking toward the entrance to the coffee shop, years and years of Nikolai scowling at me whenever I wouldn’t do it for those older than me ingrained in me no matter how hard I wanted to resist.
I almost waved at him but stopped myself at the last minute.
And then what, Ophelia? You’re going to wave, kiss him on his cheek, thank him for abandoning you all these years?
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I mumbled to myself. I hated that cynical, distrustful part of me. I hated it with all my might, because that part got me into more trouble than good over the last couple of years.
