Page 52 of Meet Me In The Dark

Luke was probably free by now.

Conor stared at the grey cement wall, covered in dark stains. Blood stains, obviously. He wasn’t the Johnathans’ first torture victim, and he doubted he’d be the last. Because at some point, Chris would get bored, decide he’d outlived his usefulness, and kill him. Conor had only just made this deal, but he already couldn’t wait for that day. His future stretched before him, full of pain and horror and misery,and he wanted nothing to do with any of it. He thought he’d hear Kara or Micah by now, in his head, chastising him and coaxing him to live, but they were silent.

Because they knew the truth: Even though the remaining moments of his life would be hell, every fucking second would be worth it, now that Luke was free.

Please, fuck, let Luke be free.

The door to his cell opened.

“I didn’t realize we were getting started so soon,” he remarked. “What’s it going to be, more torture? Or do you already have a job lined up for me?”

“Torture and capitalism aren’t my kinks,” Luke said from the doorway.

Conor’s heart thudded to a halt. This, here, was his nightmare. What was the point, of any of it? Of all of this? He and Luke had sacrificed themselves so Kara and Micah could be safe, and they were dead. He’d sacrificed himselfagainso Luke could be free, and the motherfucker hadn’t left. Helpless rage filled him. He was going to have to watch Luke die. He’d never be free. He’d been ready to shut himself off, turn into nothing more than a machine, and he could’ve done it if he were alone. But Luke was determined to be the hero, wasn’t he?

“You were supposed to go free. That was the deal I made. Why are you here?”

“Yeah, we’re going to be talking about that later.” Luke glanced around. “But we don’t have time right now. We need to get our asses out of here before they figure out what I did. We’ve got like, five fucking minutes, and I only have one good arm.”

Conor rose to his feet, looking up at the taller man, unsure if he wanted to kiss him or throttle him.

“You were supposed to leave me behind!”

Luke drew close to him, wrapping an arm around Conor’s back and pulling him tight, so they were chest to chest.

“I will never,ever, leave you behind. You hear me? Never,” he said, before capturing Conor’s lips in a fierce kiss. “Ever,” he said, then kissed him again.

And in the darkness that was Conor’s mind, heart, and soul, a light appeared. Faint, but there.

It glowed brighter when Luke pulled back to add, “We need to get the fuck out of here. I brought you boots.” He bent, helping Conor lace them up, then looked up, his eyes bright. “Kara and Micah aren’t dead. It was a trick to shut us both down, and because Chris is a cruel, evil, shit-for-brains asshole. I didn’t say anything because I needed that extra element of surprise against him.”

Alive?

Alive.

Only for the flame to flicker out and die.

He so badly wanted to believe it. Everything in him yearned for it. Except Conor had seen their bodies with his own eyes. Had heard the remorse from the professor’s lips. He couldn’t believe it, he refused to. It would hurt too much when they both woke up and realized it was nothing more than a dream. Or worse, Luke was pulling a Micah and using this to incite Conor into escaping.

Conor shook his head.

Luke’s eyes widened. “Really, Conor? You said you’d have faith in me. And yet here you are, not having faith in me. Does nothing ever change with you?”

“We need to get going,” Conor said. “Lead the way.”

Luke’s jaw worked, but he didn’t say anything, just handed Conor a rifle and limped back out the door, Conorfollowing close behind. There were surprisingly few guards, but fresh blood on the ground.

“Yours?” he asked Luke.

“I thought it was yours.”

What the fuck was going on?

As they continued down the hallway, Luke’s frustration emanating off him in waves, Conor said, “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you. I want to believe you, man. I do. You have no idea how much. But are you positive you haven’t convinced yourself they’re alive because you can’t deal with the alternative?”

“Micah’s tattoo wasn’t there,” Luke pointed out.

“The sheet was covering his arm, it could’ve been below it,” Conor suggested. As much as it hurt to destroy Luke’s hope, better now than later.

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