Page 59 of Meet Me In The Dark

“I know, boss,” Luke said. “You said already. I just wish you loved yourself better.”

“Well,” Micah said, closing his eyes, and Conor’s chest went tight again. “Not much time for that.”

“There’s got to be a way out of here,” Luke said.

But Conor knew better. And not because he was goingdown some maudlin path. Because they’d lost their chance for escape. How the hell were they going to get out of there, especially if Conor was healing from a bullet wound?

Except.

“Marcus,” he said. “I’m assuming that’s how you got here?” he asked Micah.

Micah nodded. “Billy, actually. And he has the coordinates. If we don’t come back soon, they’ll come looking for us.”

“So.” Hope, dim as the lightbulb above their heads, but still real, began to glow.

Especially as Kara stirred next to him. Conor wished for a bed, a blanket, something to keep her soft and warm. Not this cold, empty cell.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured.

She lifted her head. “Conor? Oh, thank fucking god.”

Sitting up without complaint, as if she slept in cold locked cells every day, Kara reached out a hand to stroke his face. Her arms, unlike his own, were free. The professor was still underestimating her, apparently. Sort of shocking, given that she’d shot him earlier. But then some men were so convinced of women’s uselessness, they’d never understand how powerful they truly were—to their own detriment. The professor’s misogyny was something they could potentially use to their advantage—if Conor was willing to let Kara risk her life or her safety any more for them than she already had.

We’re the same, you and I, the man whispered in his mind.

Conor did his best to ignore it. Especially when his sweet girl swallowed, and when she leaned in close, he could see her eyes were wet. Kara, who so rarely cried, was crying for him.

“I thought we’d lost you,” she told him. “When you took that bullet for me—why the hell would you do that, Conor?”

“Because without you—” he twisted his head to look and Luke and Micah, “—without all of you, my life is completely meaningless.”

Luke inhaled through his teeth, before exhaling. “Same here.”

“Same here, of course,” Micah added, his teeth flashing for a moment.

They all lapsed into silence, contemplating their harsh reality—as cold and unforgiving as the walls of their cell.

Kara broke the silence, her voice fierce with conviction. “In case our attempted rescue didn’t prove it—and you don’t know half of what I did to get to you—I don’t want to live a life without the three of you, either.” She cleared her throat, then wiped her eyes. “I hope they have a big bed for us in heaven. Or hell.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in hell,” Luke teased, but it sounded halfhearted.

Micah chuckled. “Fair enough. What’s the saying about hell being an eternity spent stuck with your friends?”

Kara raised her hand to silence him. “Hell would be an eternity spent without you.”

Conor held his breath, waiting for her to tell them she loved them again. He hadn’t imagined that, had he? Dreamed it up while he’d been recovering from his bullet wound? Her silence made him wonder if it hadn’t been anything more than a fantasy.

“Although I’d rather the big bed,” she added, and the continuation of the bit lightened some of the fear within him.

Fuck this.What did he even have to lose at this point?

“You’re supposed to add, ‘because I love you,” he demanded.

She laughed, shaking her head. Stroked his cheek. “How are you barely recovered and still this bossy?”

“Because you saying you love us was the single best moment of my life, and I want to experience it again—this time without guns pointed at us.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to smile. “Like I said, so bossy.”

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