Page 10 of Equilibrium
Motherfucker.
He was right. I was close to a panic attack, just because I was about to meet a bunch of people. Who the fuck was I, and what did I do with the previous Ophelia? I used to go face-to-face with men three times bigger than I was, and a small meet-up was rendering me speechless. Did I hit my head too hard?
Atlas didn’t wait for me to gather my wits, but instead, he pushed me through the entryway, into another larger room, and right in front of at least ten pairs of eyes. Men and women stopped talking as soon as I stumbled in, and if the energy in that hallway resembled warmth, this one here was arctic cold.
The walls were painted black and red, but the natural light that came from the ceiling high windows basked the space in natural light, giving it an open feeling. A long bar with a mahogany top was located opposite the windows, their club’s insignia painted right behind. That three-headed beast I saw on Storm’s jacket, and now jackets of multiple other guys, stared at me. All three of them had their jaws open, ready to attack, and I couldn’t miss the bullet holes decorating that same wall.
Huh, maybe not everything was peace and quiet around here. For a second there, I got worried that I stumbled across some hippie community and not a motorcycle club.
Nobody said a word as Atlas placed his hand on my back, urging me forward to one of the tables, rounded by chairs. None of the patrons of this bar seemed dangerous enough, but their impassive faces were worse than their fists would be. When people refused to show you their emotions, that’s when they were the most dangerous.
I could feel all their eyes on my back as we sat down, with Atlas opposite of me. I wasn’t sure if they were all curious, or if they wanted me dead. It wasn’t a secret that motorcycle clubs hated my family. The silent war they waged against them seemed to be never-ending, and I knew that many of these people lost their loved ones to one of my own.
Were they even mine anymore?
I guess that some habits die hard, and even though I wasn’t part of that world anymore, it was tough shaking it off. Loyalty was everything to me, and mine for the Syndicate used to be so deeply engraved in me that I sometimes wondered if I would ever be free of its hold.
I looked around, meeting the eyes of a couple of them, and the last thing I expected to see was a little kid hiding behind a tall man that stood next to the bar. It was a boy, not older than five, and the pain I haven’t felt in a long time sliced through my chest, opening it wide.
Ava’s kid would’ve been four by now.
The man patted the kids head, not even paying attention to me, but I was already lost in the land of what-ifs, missed chances, and broken dreams.
“Ophelia?”
I swiveled toward Atlas, trying to burn the memories, trying to shove them back into the little box inside my head, so that they couldn’t torture me today. I already had enough on my plate.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then why are we here?”
“I told you, there are people I want you to meet.”
“I see a lot of people here, Atlas.” I grinned. “But none of them seem like they want to meet me. Tell me, did they already hear aboutBaba Yagaand the monstrosities I’ve committed?”
“I can assure you, sweetheart, you’re not the only monster here.”
I wasn’t?
“That guy there.” He pointed behind my back, at the mountain of a guy sitting with a cute girl on his lap. “That’s Butcher.”
“Butcher?”
“Oh yeah. You don’t wanna know how he got that name.”
No, I definitely didn’t want to know. His nickname spoke volumes.
“That girl.” He looked to his right, nodding at the stunning chick in tight leather jeans and a crop top with the club’s insignia. “That’s Widow.”
“As in, her husband died?”
“No, smartass.” He laughed. “As in, Black Widow.”
“Let me guess, Marvel fans? Is there Thor and Captain America hiding somewhere around here?”
“That mouth.” He kept laughing. “Guys are going to love you. Storm is gonna get in trouble trying to keep you away from them.”
