Chapter 25 - Ophelia
Ophelia
Yawning, I shuffle down the stairs. My body aches and my head hurts. I’ve cried so much, I’m probably dehydrated. I woke up twice in the night from crying in my sleep. Who does that? Me, apparently.
My stomach churns at the thought of facing Cain. We haven’t talked about what was revealed yesterday. He shot a man in the face for hurting me, but now he’s got to deal with his own father, a man who has seriously hurt me.
Cain’s father ruined my life. He wrecked it. Wrecked me. I could have been normal, but instead, here I am. Haunted. Scarred.
In some ways, though, despite how horrific it all was, I’m not sure I’d change it because changing it would mean I’d have never met my men.
“Morning, beautiful.” Mal smiles at me as I walk to the couch.
Roman gets up. “What do you want to eat?”
I shake my head. “You’re the one who is hurt. Let me fix you something.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses the top of my head. “No, Ophelia. You’ve been through so much the past few days, and I’m feeling stronger today. What do you want to eat?”
I can’t say the truth—that I don’t want to eat anything—because he’ll worry, and I do need to keep my strength up, so I’ll force something down. “Just toast, if that’s okay? With peanut butter, please.”
When he putters into the kitchen to begin putting breakfast together, Mal pulls me onto his lap, making me squeak.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He nuzzles his face in my neck and inhales. “Are you okay?” He pulls back to look at me.
“I’m okay.” Again, I keep my truth to myself, and don’t tell him how broken I feel inside. “Where’s Cain?”
“Gone for a run. He wants to clear his head before he confronts his father.”
I glance at the time on my phone, which I’m still clutching. The thing has become like a new limb, always with me.
“What time do I need to be ready?”
He clears his throat. “You’re not coming, baby.”
My brow furrows. “Oh, yes, I am. He can’t go alone.”
“It’s not safe, Ophelia. You know that.”
Why am I always the one to be left out of decision making? It hurts, and I know they do it to keep me safe, but it still bothers me.
“So you three ride off and leave me here? The damsel in distress again, on her own.”
To my surprise, he laughs. “Don’t be dramatic, Ophelia. It’s not like that, and no, not on your own. Roman will be staying with you.”
“I will?” Roman shouts from the kitchen. “News to me.”
“Cain’s only going to be distracted if Ophelia is there,” Malachi says, “and if she stays, she needs to be kept safe.”
“If you’ve forgotten, I was the one who stabbed the Prophet.” I try to stand, but Malachi has a firm hold on me.
“That’s different. This is Cain’s father.
It’s his shit, and he needs to deal with it as he sees fit.
I’m going with him as his friend, but it’s not really our battle, and he’d never forgive himself if you were hurt.
” His eyes darken. “Jesus, Ophelia, he’s already not able to forgive himself for what his father did.
He says he will leave once he’s removed his father as a threat. ”
“Leave? As in … us?” Mal’s nod is like a dagger to my soul. “Oh. That would be bad.” My words are a whisper.
“Yes, it would be,” Roman says as he brings me two slices of toast, layered thickly with peanut butter. “But you were also talking about leaving us. Were you not?”
He’s right, and I have no answer to that.
“Never fear, though, because I have a solution.” He waggles his brows, forcing a reluctant smile from me.
“Oh, yeah, what’s that?”
“A ritual,” he says. His face grows serious. “It will tie us to each other and help ward off outside influences who seek to destroy us.”
Another ritual? My mind flashes back to the previous one, and the things we’d done. Depraved but delicious things.
“Does it involve sex?” I ask.
Roman laughs softly. “It involves sex and so much more. It will be the most intimate one can ever be with another human being.”
I squirm a little on Mal’s lap. What is it with these men? I feel like crap. I’m exhausted, grieving, and scared, too, but the minute I think about sex with these men, my body responds.
Does that make me sick?
Eating my toast, I remain on Mal’s lap, and, when I’ve finished, Roman takes my plate and returns, handing me a cup of coffee. It’s sweet and creamy, and I still relish and savor all the things that many take for granted, because we just didn’t have everyday luxuries in the commune.
The commune. My thoughts return there, to Daisy, and tears well up once more. Mal must notice, because he reaches his hand to my face and gently wipes the pads of his thumbs over each eye.
“I hate to see you cry, baby.” He kisses my eyelids softly and then my nose, and finally my lips. Just a whisper-soft brush of his lips over my features, but it warms my heart.
The door bangs open and Cain stalks in, like a gust of wind heralding a storm. He’s taken his shirt off, and he stands in the doorway, chest heaving, glistening with sweat.
He sees me and glances outside again. Almost as if part of him is contemplating turning right back around and running away.
The way I did when I first saw him again after all those years apart.
“Cain.” I stand and set my cup down. As I take a step toward him, he steps back.
There’s a wild look in his eyes. Is he really going to run from me? That’s not him. He’s a fighter, not the sort of man who tries to escape his problems by outrunning them.
When I’d gone to bed the previous night, I’d been unsure how I felt about everything that had been revealed, but I’m much surer this morning.
“Don’t you dare run back out that door, Cain.” The firmness of my voice surprises me.
It works, though, because he hesitates, his brows raising slightly.
“Can you come sit for a moment? We need to talk.”
He glances at his watch. “I don’t have t—”
“This will take all of five minutes.” I reach him and slip my hand in his much larger one. “Please.”
Shoulders dropping slightly, he nods once.
Following me to the sitting area, he takes a seat opposite the couch.
“And put a shirt on,” I say with a smile. “You’re far too distracting.”
He snorts, but yanks his t-shirt from where it’s tucked down the back of his pants. He pulls his t-shirt back on, covering his muscular torso.
“So?” His gaze is direct, almost hard, but I can see the fear and the worry in his eyes beneath his exterior. “What is it?”
“I need the three of you to hear me. Am I exhausted? Yes. Scared? Yes. Am I grief-stricken? Yes, and yes, and yes. But do you know what I am not?”
There’s a moment where all three men stare at me.
“I’m not broken.”
As I say the words, I realize how true they are. “I’ve not heard the Prophet’s voice since I killed him, but even if I do, I know I can deal with it. Because now I know it’s not real, plus I’m so much stronger than I was, and that’s down to you three men.”
Cain makes a low, growling sound deep in the back of his throat as if he’s about to interrupt me, but I fix him with what I hope is an angry stare. He closes his mouth, but then opens it again, his need to speak out winning.
“The problem is, Angel, you wouldn’t have been broken in the first place if you hadn’t been taken, and that’s on me. My family.”
I let his words sink in and digest them, formulating how to reply.
“No, you’re right. Technically. But first, who knows if I’d be broken or not?
My father is not the kind man I always thought.
He’s got a very hard side. If I’d never been taken, I truly think he’d have married me off at eighteen to a family that would provide us with a beneficial alliance.
What if my husband had been cruel? A cheater?
Maybe violent. It’s hardly rare in our world.
Even if he’d not been any of those things, I wouldn’t have been allowed to marry for love. ”
I lean forward, looking at each in turn, needing them to hear me.
Truly hear me. “I asked myself when I woke up in the night, panicked and upset, whether or not I would change things, and I… I don’t think I would.
Because if I erase the Prophet and all the bad stuff, then I don’t get you.
Any of you. I don’t get to study and be at this amazing university.
I don’t have the opportunity to explore who I am, and my sexuality.
So, Cain, you aren’t to blame, but more than that, I need you to understand that I wouldn’t change it.
It all led me to right where I’m supposed to be. ”
Cain scrubs his hand over his face and opens his mouth, but then he snaps it closed again.
I smile at him. “Good idea. You three are always telling me that you need to make decisions to keep me safe, and I accept that. But you need to accept what I’m telling you now.”
There’s something else I’ve been thinking, but I can’t put that into words.
I can’t say it to Cain, because it’s too hurtful.
I’d had doubt eating away at me that my father had been the one to have me taken.
And while I’d told myself over and over that it couldn’t be true, and almost believed that, there was a tiny part of me that worried about it, ever since Daisy had told me.
It ate away at me, a parasite making me question every single happy memory I had of my parents. Cain’s father has freed me from that, but now that burden is Cain’s to carry.
“I’ve been told that I’m to stay here, with Roman, while you two go off and play at being heroes.”
“Hardly playing.” Mal wags his finger at me. “Don’t go getting too bratty. You might not like our punishments.”
Oh, I bet I will. I smirk but then grow serious as what lies ahead for Cain and Mal hits home.
I go to Cain and take his hands. “If you get yourself killed, I’m going to reverse haunt you. Do not let your father harm you. I don’t care if he lives, so long as you do. You better come back to me, Cain Lockwood.”
This time his growl is one of ownership and desire, and as he pulls me into him and kisses me hard, I melt.