Page 67 of Meet Me In The Dark

“Yeah?” Luke asked.

“I want to be like you three.”

Around her, she felt a stillness, a quietness. She couldn’t make sense of it at the moment, nor did she want to.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know.” She sighed, the fantasy clear in her mind—one of vengeance and strength. One of blood. “I want to hurt people who hurt me. Who want to hurt other people, people who don’t deserve it. I want to let myself be angry, be violent. Let out my rage. I don’t want anyone to think they can beat me. I want to be an hitwoman—just like you.”

That stillness went heavy.

It lasted for a while.

Finally, Luke broke it. “Well, you’re going to need a lot more training before we get to that point.”

He wasn’t wrong. Although she didn’t think she’d done too badly for herself. If only she could figure out a way to get them out of there. Oh, she had an idea—one Luke and Conor would hate, and Micah wouldn’t like much, either—but she wasn’t even sure it would work. Not yet, anyway.

“Luke, what do you want, when we get out of here?” she asked.

When, not if. She was tired of hopelessness.

“I like our lives,” he admitted. “I didn’t use to. I thought it was something we were stuck with, because we couldn’t be heroes anymore—because we discovered we’d never been heroes in the first place. But that life doesn’t hold muchsway for me anymore. You were right—I don’t need to be anyone’s hero. I need to be your villain, as long as it means keeping you safe.”

His words stabbed her in her chest, ever so sweetly.

“Luke,” she began.

Luke shook his head. “You know, I used to have to be a good man. Even as I went down this path, I tried to convince myself I was still good. Like the label even mattered. But the thing I realized, when I was being tortured? I don’t need to be a good man, anymore. Or anyone’s hero. Because if I were one, I wouldn’t have you.”

Conor pushed her gently to stand. On wobbly legs, overcome by Luke’s words, Kara went to him, kneeling by his side.

“I love you,” she said. “And I don’t want a good man. Or a bad one. I want you. I want to rock climb with you and hike with you and go to a shooting range with you and fuck you and be fucked by you, to be a brat and take my punishments, to let you finally make me go running after threatening me with it back in Denver.” She took a breath. “If we get out of here?—”

“When,” he interrupted, echoing her word earlier.

“When we get out of here, it doesn’t really matter what we do, as long as we’re together.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice hushed with awe, “I love you with words that don’t even exist.”

She kissed him then, and he kissed her back, soft as rain drops, full of promise, and regret, because “when” was just a fantasy. They shared breath, between them, and love, and all Kara wanted to do was to curl up beside him and close her eyes and be somewhere, anywhere, else.

But she was a big girl, and she had to face facts.

“This will have to be enough,” she said out loud.

“It will never be enough,” Luke said fiercely.

“Eternity wouldn’t be enough,” Micah said. Kara turned to the last member of the group. Micah was the most open, in some ways, but also kept so much to himself. She understood him better, after the time they’d spent together trying to rescue the others. She trusted him. She got how tightly he wove his reality so nothing could disturb it. How manipulation was a survival mechanism.

But maybe he didn’t need it anymore. Not with the four of them, anyway. “Micah,” she said.

“Yeah, baby,” he cleared his throat, and she left Luke to go stand, staring down into his blue eyes.

“What do you want our lives to look like?”

Micah considered. “I want to see you grow into the person you were meant to be. I want you to realize that even though the panic attacks will never fully go away, you know how to cope with them.”

Kara’s heart squeezed. He’d done so much for her, hadn’t he? All of them had. “With your help,” she said.

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