Page 132 of Delirium
I saw her in our bed, her sandy brown hair splayed over the pillow, calling me to come back, to cuddle with her. I saw her on that street, crossing to get to me, her defiant eyes and mischievous smirk playing on her face.
I saw the five-year-old girl who wanted me to smile, who wanted me to be happy, while those pigtails bounced around her head, so full of life, full of love.
I saw our kids on that monitor, growing inside her, and Ophelia’s tear-filled eyes when she looked at me, full of hope and promises of tomorrow.
“Oh, God,” I grunted, falling to the ground, my knees taking the brunt of the fall.
“Storm,” Atlas said, his voice sounding so far away.
Like a kaleidoscope of memories, every single scene replayed in my head—every single time I held her, I loved her, I had her. Even during the times when she ran, when anger consumed my entire body, I still loved her.
Yesterday, today, tomorrow, that one feeling would always stay with me.
“She’s gone,” I murmured flatly, as if the thought itself still didn’t settle in my bones. “She’s… Atlas,” I cried, feeling the first tears roll down my cheeks. “Atlas, she’s gone.”
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, crouching down in front of me.
“They’re all gone,” I said, letting the words sink in. “What am I supposed to do, Atlas?”
“Storm, hey.” He shook me, holding my shoulders. “Now’s not the time to fall apart. We don’t fall apart. We fight. Remember. We always fight.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head. “I can’t… I can’t move, Atlas.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Storm.” He hummed, hugging me, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s gonna be okay. We will find them.”
“They’re gone,” I wailed, clutching the back of his jacket in my fists. “They’re fucking gone!”
“We will get them back,” Atlas argued.
But how would we get them back? How?
“I need to send someone to take Zoe to the hospital. Can you stand up?”
“Oh God, and Zoe is hurt,” I finally realized. “I’m a terrible person. Is she okay?” I looked up at him.
“A little banged up, but she shouldn’t be driving. I’ll send Indigo to her, but we need to go to the Club, Storm. Everyone will be there and they will help. Maya is coming, Storm. I need to call her and tell her what happened, but I need you to hold it together, okay? They can’t see you like this. You need to be strong for Ophelia, for your kids.”
I had to be. I needed to be, but getting up from the ground almost felt impossible. But I would do it. I would fucking do it, and I would find them.
And Ava and Tristan Nightingale would pay, one way or another.
27
OPHELIA
The mustyand stale scent was the first thing I noticed as my eyes started fluttering, slowly opening and closing, too sensitive against the glaring light directed at me. Something brushed over my left arm, and taking a deep breath, I slowly pushed myself through the foggy haze that still surrounded my mind and forced my eyes open. I blinked as the light flickered above me, too bright to look at.
I lowered my head, trying to shield my eyes, but as I tried to lift my arm, I realized I was trapped, tied up.
Confusion lingered in the back of my mind, then it hit me all at once—the mall, the parking lot, Zoe on the ground, the men surrounding me and injecting me with something.
“Oh, shit,” I murmured, turning my head to my left. I noticed a figure standing on the far end, just outside of the light. My lips were parched, my throat dry, but I forced the words out, no matter how much they kept scratching my throat. “Who are you?” I rasped. “Where am I?”
The figure never answered, just moved toward my legs, seemingly inspecting something there. I looked down at my body, realizing I was on some sort of a table, with my arms spread to the side of me, tied to the said table, as well as my legs.
“What’s going on?” I asked again, clearing my throat. “Answer me, goddammit!”
I didn’t want to panic, didn’t want to send myself into a frenzy, but this was either a very bad prank, or it was my end. This had Belladonna written all over it.
