Page 18 of Meet Me In The Dark

“If I look at you, I won’t be able to do this,” he said.

One shoe on, then two. When she grabbed his thigh to steady herself, he jerked away.

Okay, so. It was like this.

Go? Stay?

Backpack now. Micah wouldn’t release it, not at first, but with a heaving breath he gave it to her. She reached for him. He allowed her to place her hand over his heart. It was pounding. Except for when he was inside her, fucking her, his heart was always steady.

With the hand not holding Conor back, he gently removed her hand from his chest and wrapped her fingers around the backpack.

Finally, Conor.

She couldn’t find words, couldn’t touch him. He was stiff as a statue. For what felt like hours, they just stared at each other.

His voice was choked with tears. “For so long, all I wanted was you. It mattered more than anything. But what I want most, now, is for you to be happy. And you won’t be happy with us.”

He lowered his head to hers, kissed her forehead.

“Go. Before I change my mind. Before?—”

Kara moved away from them. The mountains outside beckoned.

They were frozen in time, a tableau of pain and determination.

Her voice broke.

“I love?—”

“Don’t you fucking say it.”

Well. Then.

One foot through the threshold, the other. The air felt different, cold and crisp and it was like she’d forgotten what it was like to breathe it fresh. Absurd, really. She was outside all the time.

Somewhere, a taxi honked.

Time to go.

She ran down the road, which stretched along, scary and endless, trees dark and foreboding because suddenly it was nighttime. Something inside her broke. She’d always thought Orpheus was so stupid for looking back at Euridice when he led her through the underworld. He could have stayed facing forward, could have saved her from becoming a pillar of salt.

She’d thought wrong. In the distance, behind her, she heard a roar of pure anguish. And when she turned, she saw Conor sink to the floor of the house, his roar shaking the trees as the door swung shut.

This was all she had wanted, and it hurt so much she could scream.

She kept running.

5

For the first time since she’d been taken by Chris and his henchmen, Kara woke up alone.

It was disorienting—doubly so, after the nightmare she’d had. Usually, there was an arm or a hairy leg thrown over her. Sometimes she was face first on the bed with a large body fully covering her so she was practically suffocated by the pillow. When her men had kidnapped her six weeks ago and taken her to the cabin, she’d hated it—or at least she’d told herself she’d hated it. Now, being caught up in their arms was as natural to her as breathing. And not having them surrounding her felt like someone had cut out her heart and tossed it off the side of a mountain.

Sitting up, she glanced around the room for Micah. He wasn’t in the small dark room that smelled of old water and mold and stale cigarettes. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t slept; he was probably searching for a lead. Climbing out of the bed, she opened the door to the bathroom. An empty, dark, stain-covered room the size of a closet greeted her.

Her gut clenched. Even if he were awake, he wouldn’t have gone far. Not when he was so worried about her, andshe was being so weak. She hated what the panic attacks had done to her, making her feel fragile and useless.

Where was he?

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