Page 24 of Meet Me In The Dark

But part of him doubted if he were telling the truth—something Luke would hate.

With a teeth-jarring bump, the plane landed on a rough runway, rumbling down the airstrip. Conor wished for a window, so he could know what kind of terrain they were dealing with.

The plane rolled to a stop. The hold was reinforced, so even though he strained his ears, he couldn't tell if anyone was coming for them. But they would, soon. And then the rear of the plane opened, revealing a group of at least twenty men in fatigues, guns aimed at them.

“We need a plan,” Luke said quietly.

But Conor didn’t have a plan. He wasn’t sure there was one that would get them out of there.

“Boss, come on,” Luke asked, desperation raising the pitch of his voice. “We don't have much time.”

“Mr. O’Connell knows this is a fool's attempt,” a voice called. The soldiers—if you could call them soldiers—parted, and a slender, nondescript man walked through them.

Conor had never seen a picture of the professor, or heard his voice, but his gut churned in recognition. This was the man who had almost destroyed Kara once, and then tortured her a second time. Who tried to break her. If he’d had a gun, he would have shot him. He eyed the soldiers holding them. The zip ties were an issue, but…

“I wouldn't even consider it,” the professor said. “I'm sure it would feel good to overpower one of my men and shoot me, especially knowing I've been deep inside yourwhore on numerous occasions—and will be again soon, I'm sure. But if you kill me, your lover is dead.”

His words froze Conor before he could even move.

“He needs medical attention,” Conor told the professor. “He was shot.”

“Oh?” His enemy cocked his head. “And why would I be driven to give him medical attention?”

“Because if you don’t, he’ll die. And I doubt we’re of much use to you dead.”

At least not yet.

The professor—Christopher, although Conor hated acknowledging his name, since it only made him more real—nodded. “Alright.”

Conor and Luke were lifted to their feet and marched out of the plane and into the blinding sunshine.

And as they walked toward an unknown destination, Conor once again promised himself he’d get Luke out of here.

He’d die to make sure of it.

As they were marched down a steep island path, Conor briefly soothed himself with thoughts of what Kara was doing right now. Micah had probably left her at one of Marcus’s many homes. He hoped the Jackson Hole compound, so at least she could see the Tetons every day.

Conor felt himself smile, sad and small. She'd hate that, hate being cooped up again, and this time without the promise of good sparring and great sex. But it wouldn’t last long. She’d find a way to escape, just like she had in the past.She was resourceful as hell, one of the many things he loved about her, and she'd find a way to him.

But he didn’t want that for her. He wanted better for her, a new life. A happy one. He wanted better, and yet he'd done everything in his power to keep her from it.

“Why the hell are you smiling, asshole?” Luke growled at him, but it was weak. He needed medical help.

Conor would also drop to his knees and offer almost anything to save Luke from his fate. But the only thing he had to offer was Kara's likely location, and that was non-negotiable.

He was fucked between a rock and a hard place, wasn't he. He couldn't give up one to save the other. Plus, he wasn't a naive dipshit—Kara's location just guaranteed Luke a quicker death.

Jesus, he almost missed the fucking days when he felt nothing but lust and rage and the need for revenge. When he'd known he was evil, and therefore didn't care what harm he created as long as it got him what it wanted. And while he'd still create any and all harm to keep his family safe, he felt pain again. Kara—and his deeper bond with Micah and Luke, thanks to her—had given him back his heart, and it ached.

It was no less than he deserved. Heshouldfeel this pain, after everything he'd done. It wasn’t even about orphaning those young boys, not anymore. No, by now he’d done far worse. Kidnapping Kara, taking her agency, making her feel used and meaningless and small. Dragging her into the darkness with him, turning her into someone who killed without remorse. Stealing her away from a nice, quiet, happy life. Would she be able to go back to it now?

She’d been better off without them, hadn’t she? Withouthim.Even though everything in him railed against the ideaof not having her, he couldn’t deny that he had led her down the path to destruction. Just like he was leading Luke down a path to his own.

They were guided down cement stairs and into what seemed like an underground bunker but really was an underground prison. They walked down a long hallway, Conor noting the empty cells, until they reached one at the end of the hallway. It was empty, no bed, no chairs, no rations, no toilet. As good a home as any.

“Sorry our accommodations aren't very hospitable, but after you destroyed my last torture site, I had to be more flexible. You understand.” The professor was almost giddy with his triumph, although he was trying to seem calm and in control.

Conor could've told him it didn't matter. He could feel as triumphant as he wanted, it didn't bother Conor at all. Nothing did, except knowing he'd never see Kara's face again, and that he'd taken that away from his partners, too. God, he would go back, wouldn't he? Knock on Kara's door, with two bouquets in his hands, one of strawflowers and one of bee balm. And he'd beg her for a date. Demand one, probably, knowing him. Give her the power for once so she could choose to give it back to him.

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