Page 9 of Delirium
“Ophelia!” Storm yelled out behind us, and I could hear the chairs and table moving. I had no doubt he was trying to reach us, but I didn’t want to talk to him.
If I had any say in this, I wasn’t going to talk to him ever again.
“Do you want to talk to him?” Indigo asked, holding me upright as we rushed through the house, out the door and toward his car.
“No.” I shook my head. “Please don’t make me stay here. I’m begging you, Indigo, just don’t let him get to me.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry.”
Indigo opened the passenger side door, letting me enter just as Storm barged outside, running toward us. I slammed the door closed, locking it from inside, while Indigo stood in front of it, pushing Storm away.
“Let me through, Indigo!” Storm thundered, trying to push his way toward me. “I just need to talk to her.”
“Do you want to talk to him?” Indigo asked from outside of the car, looking at me.
I shook my head and looked toward the front, ignoring the man arguing with his friend on my right side. I drowned out his voice, his pleas, his sorrow-filled eyes, the picture of him with that woman on a constant replay in my mind.
I didn’t make a big fuss when he told me he was going to have to choose the Club. I didn’t make a fuss when he failed to remember my appointments, leaving me alone. I didn’t make a motherfucking fuss when my anxiety spiked and all I wanted was to talk to him about the things that were coming, but he never opened the door.
I was a perfect fucking citizen, an angel. I went against everything I knew, every single instinct and I trusted that maybe he would respect me enough not to parade his bitches in front of me.
But this… No. Nuh-uh. This was not acceptable in any way, shape, or form.
Indigo rounded the car, while Storm pressed his palms to my window, his lips moving, begging me to open the door, to let him explain.
God, that fucking sentence—let me explain. If I could, I would erase it from everyone’s vocabulary. I was only here because I was a human incubator right now—nothing more and nothing less. The sooner I got used to the idea, the better it was for all of us.
“Open the door, Ophelia!” Storm slammed his palm on the glass, finally getting my attention. Indigo entered the car, locking his door as well, and turned the engine just as I lifted my hand, showing Storm my middle finger.
Fuck. Off, I mouthed and turned my head to the front, just as Indigo started driving.
“Where do you want to go?” Indigo asked as my phone rang, the sound filling the car. I pulled it out from my front pocket, still holding onto the photo of my kids.
Kieran’s name flashed on the screen, and I frowned, not knowing what to do.
Did I want to talk to him today? Not really.
But I’ve been avoiding it long enough, and it was time for us to have a quick chat. He deserved to know.
“Hey, K,” I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Birdy,” he drawled, his voice sad. “Cillian told me.”
Fucking shit fuck.
“I’m in Santa Monica, and you better get your ass here to meet me.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Then I’m going to come to the Club, Ophelia, and I’ll drag you outside myself. Unless you really want them to kill me.”
I didn’t want them to kill him. I didn’t want them to harm him, even though I did exactly the same not so long ago. But I liked to believe that we were all grown-ups now, much better at expressing our emotions and all the other baggage we carried.
But Kieran was a friend, and I needed those right now.
“Fine.” I huffed. “Where are we going to meet?”
* * *
