Page 40 of Oblivion
Nodding, I hugged him without warning, and it felt good having someone with you that actually didn’t want you dead. “I’ll try to be better about it, okay? Just don’t yell anymore. My brain is already fried as it is.”
“Fine, I won’t yell, but we should both go to sleep now.”
“Can we watch a movie later, once we get up?”
“No, because it seems that you need to get yourself a dress and I need a tuxedo.”
“But after?” I grinned and looked up at him.
He tried looking serious, but that mischievous twinkle in his eyes told me that he wanted one peaceful night as much as I did.
“Fine, we can watch a movie tonight.”
“Fuck yeah!” I jumped and moved away from him. “I hope you likeLord of the Rings, because I haven’t watched it in forever.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh, yeah. I need my Legolas fix.”
“Ophelia,” he warned as I ran toward the kitchen to get my cookies. “We are not watching it again.”
“You already promised, Kill.” I smirked, taking my cookies. “Now show me the way to my room, before I fall asleep right here.”
Tristan kept chuckling quietly, while Cillian glared at me, but I knew he was looking forward to it as much as I was. I knew he loved Arwen as much as I loved Legolas.
“But you can’t tell Kieran?” He pointed at me, serious as a heart attack.
I imitated closing the zipper over my mouth and throwing away the key. “Cross my heart.”
“Go to sleep, Birdy,” Tristan said, laughing at Cillian and the defeated look on his face. “I’ll catch you later.”
Cillian showed me the way toward the stairs leading to the first floor, and then toward my room.
I didn’t bother with the lights, using the natural light coming through the ceiling-high windows to go through the room. A single queen bed occupied the right side of the room, facing the large LED television screen on the opposite wall.
I looked to my left and saw the walk-in closet, chuckling as I walked toward it. I had, what, a small backpack of clothes, yet they gave me the room with a walk-in closet and what seemed like an en suite bathroom.
I had a feeling that Tristan was under the assumption that I was still the seventeen-year-old Ophelia, who had a closet filled with clothes dictated by her father, just to appear as someone who could fit in. Now, I didn’t have an issue with pretty clothes or girly shit you could wear while brunching with your friends, but it’d been years since I stopped trying.
Makeup? Mascara was my best friend on those days when I actually didn’t feel like killing anyone.
“Well.” I sighed and sat down on the bed, untying the laces on my boots. “It is home for now.”
Or for the foreseeable future, but I couldn’t stay here. No matter how good Tristan was, and how well made those IDs were, Storm would find me no matter what. I was starting to think that the only way to evade him was to leave the country, which was exactly what I was planning to do. Even if he thought that I was really dead, he was one person I knew that wouldn’t be fooled by the girl Cillian placed in that cabin.
Storm would take one look at her and he would know it wasn’t me. I just hoped hiding here would give me enough time to figure everything out and get away from here.
Once this shitshow was fixed and they'd paid for what they did, I was planning to vanish.
Europe was beautiful during the summer, and apart from England, Russia and Poland, I hadn’t been to the other parts. Ibiza sounded like a fucking amazing idea right now.
Falling down onto the bed, my entire body bounced, making me chuckle like a little kid. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept well. As the sleep started overtaking my consciousness, I just prayed that Atlas would be able to stop Storm from coming after me, at least long enough to finish my job in Ventus City.
11
STORM
It wasn’t her.
