Page 67 of Delirium
Jesus fuck, this communication thing sucked.
* * *
“You’re goingto create a hole in the floor if you continue pacing like that,” Zoe said, looking at her sandwich, while I walked back and forth in the dining room, waiting for Storm to call me back.
“I can’t stop,” I replied. “I texted him an hour ago, and he read the message, but he still hasn’t call me back. What if something has happened and he’s hurt, or worse?”
“Phee.” She looked up at me. “Babe, I fucking love you, but you’re going to drive yourself crazy. Hell, you’re driving me crazy.”
“How are you so calm?” I asked, sitting down on the chair on the opposite side of the table from where Zoe was. “How can you eat?”
“Because I’m hungry?”
“It’s almost three in the afternoon, Zozo. His meeting was supposed to be finished two hours ago. What if Nico attacked him?”
“I truly hope he didn’t,” Zoe answered, biting into her sandwich. “Because if he did, I don’t think that he would like you very much.”
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because you have a crazy look in your eyes right now.”
“I don’t have a crazy look.”
She looked up again, chewing slowly. “Yeah,” she nodded, “you definitely do.”
“I don’t have a…” I trailed off, taking the phone out from my pocket and opening the front camera. “Well, shit.” I definitely had a crazy look.
My pupils were dilated, the lines around my lips strained, and I truly did look like I wanted to murder someone.
“But he isn’t fucking answering. What am I supposed to do?”
“Eat?” she answered nonchalantly. “That breakfast of yours was bullshit and we both know that.”
“I wasn’t hungry.” I pouted. “And cereal is healthy.”
“Since when do you care about healthy food?” She laughed. “Your breakfast usually consists of three cups of coffee, one or two cigarettes and some water just in case.”
“Well,” I shrugged, “I can’t drink coffee right now.” Even though I would kill for just one cup. “I can’t smoke either.” This would have been helpful in this situation. “And I can’t not eat. I’m a human incubator right now.”
“Then call him again.”
I wanted to, but I had a feeling it would go into his voicemail—again.
Just as I was about to get up and start pacing again, my phone started ringing, startling me. But it wasn’t the name I wanted to see on the screen. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t a name at all. Unknown number was calling me and I had no idea if I really wanted to pick up.
Eh, what the hell. I survived Storm being in the hospital once, I could do it again.
“Hello,” I answered carefully.
“Oh, thank fucking God,” a female voice screeched through the line. “I thought I would have to send the cavalry to Santa Monica.”
“Alessia?” I exclaimed, surprised to hear her. “Oh no, if you’re calling me—”
“No, nope. They’re okay. My husband is a stupid motherfucker, but I still love him. Kinda. I do. I just want to strangle him right now.”
“So, you know?” I asked carefully.
“Oh, I definitely do. And it wasn’t pretty when he finally told me, that motherfucker. Late last night he comes into our room and starts babbling how much he loves me, how much he loves our boy, and how he will always do everything to protect us. Now, mind you,” she continued. “I knew who I was marrying, but I thought we were past this bullshit where he needs to tell me how much I truly mean to him. So obviously, I knew something was wrong. Then he tells me about the little pact, and I swear to God, Ophelia, he’s lucky that I didn’t have any sharp objects next to me.”
