Page 39 of Meet Me In The Dark

He hacked a cough, and Conor’s heart sank when he saw it was speckled with blood.

“Ah shit,” Luke said, noting the same thing.

“Yeah, shit,” Conor echoed, because what else was there to say?

They were silent for a time, both lost to their own thoughts, Conor trying to recreate a happy Kara and Micah in his mind, the only thing that would keep him going, knowing neither he nor Luke had much time left.

“God, I miss them. I missher,” Luke said, surprising Conor. But then, Conor shouldn’t have been surprised they were on the same wavelength. “I miss being smothered by her wild hair and listening to her snore.”

Conor smiled, imagining it. “I miss her little ass sassing me.”

“Or pretending she wants control when she really wants you to take it from her.” Luke laughed. “I miss her little ass, period.”

“All those times she surprised and scared the hell out of us, the little badass.” Conor closed his eyes, picturing the time when she’d deepthroated that gun to create a distraction for him. They’d punished her for that, but he was so proud of her and of who she’d become when she finally let herself grow. The woman he’d first met, dressed in a tight black dress she kept readjusting, running from her past and from herself, desperate to hide what she truly wanted in sex and bravado? She was not the brave woman he knew now, who could stand—or crawl—naked and proud surrounded by strangers, without questioning her own worth or power. Who knew who she was, and settled in it, and liked it. Who gave of herself, vulnerably and willingly.

Who loved them.

He hoped.

Because he loved her, so fucking much.

“I never thought I’d be afraid to die,” Conor admitted. “And earlier on the plane, I almost welcomed it, the guilt was eating me alive. But now, knowing I’ll probably never see her or Micah again…”

“…all you want is to be with them, one more time. You can have that, Conor.Wecan have it. You just need to fight. Fight with me. Please, Conor.”

Please.Luke never begged. Conor owed it to him, didn’t he? What had Luke said? That he’d hurt Kara so much, he owed it to her to live and be better? Could he do it? Was he capable?

He looked at Luke, truly looked at him. Past the already-forming bruises and dried blood, past the way he was trying to pretend his injuries were nothing. Luke had always beenso strong. He’d carried the weight of their missing morality even as he struggled with his own fears, and Conor didn’t need to be Micah to know how badly Luke wanted, needed, to be loved. Conor might have control issues, and Micah might have trust issues, but Luke’s abandonment issues were clear as day, now that Conor was paying attention.

“You know, together, the three of us, you, me, and Micah? We make one truly fucked up person.”

Luke choked on a laugh, then groaned from the pain. “That is a weird fucking thought to have.” He sobered. “Do you ever wonder why we were always at each other’s throats? I mean, when we weren’t fucking each other.”

Conor shifted, feeling his skin itch from how open Luke was asking him to be. “I don’t think about shit like that.”

“C’mon, boss.”

“Micah would say it was because we were measuring whose dick is bigger.”

Luke laughed. “Mine, obviously.”

“True.” He’d had it in his ass enough times to know. “I think…” Conor swallowed. “I was so fucking jealous that Kara spent so long with you but left me after two nights. I kept questioning myself: What did you do, that I didn’t? What did you have, that I didn’t? What the hell was I missing? I was fucking resentful, so I took it out on you. And after we orphaned those boys in Frankfurt, you somehow still had your soul; I’d lost mine. But instead of confronting that painful shit, I made it about a fight for power in my head.”

Luke nodded. “You took over so easily, you were in charge without question, and it meant that you always served a role. You were the boss, Micah was the brains, what was I? There was a part of me that was always sure you two would decide one day to move on without me. When youignored what I said and took Kara, it felt like you had, in a way.”

“I was desperate for her,” Conor explained.

“I know.”

“And it felt like I’d already done so much evil. What did one more fucked-up thing matter?”

Luke’s smile was soft, accepting. “I know.”

“And we almost lost her because of it,” Conor admitted. “God, I almost lost you. When she shot you…”

Luke tried to laugh, but the pain was clearly becoming too much, based on the strain in his face. “She never wanted to kill me. She was pissed. And she’s a good shot.”

“You taught her well,” Conor acknowledged.