“Kanes,” he interrupted, heaving in a deep breath, letting her know that his thin patience was a second from extinguishing. “Let’s go back to our cell.”
27
It’s not about being perfect.
It’s about letting your failures go.
Khalani tapped her foot against the cold tile floor of her cell.
She rested her chin on her knee, back firmly against the wall as she stared at Takeshi.
Even in the shadows, his features were sharp and honed. He sat against the opposite side of the cell with one leg stretched out, eyes firmly closed.
He wasn’t asleep though.
His muscles were too tense, jaw too tight to be in slumber. Like a loaded gun lifting, preparing to wreak havoc.
She didn’t know what to say.
Maybe silence and pretending to ignore each other’s existence was the only defense left.
Maybe that’s what she wanted.
No.
Yes.
The lines between her needs and her fears blurred until she couldn’t distinguish one from the other.
All Khalani could do was tap her right foot against the floor, the staccato beats providing the only sound in the stiff quiet.
“How long are you going to keep doing that?” Takeshi asked, his eyes still closed.
“Not sure.” She halted mid-tap. “Were you planning on being silent the whole night?”
“Probably.”
“Then I think I’ll keep doing it.”
Takeshi tilted his head back and stared at her, his dark irises drawing her in like a magnet. She licked her lips, careful to avoid the cut, and his attention flickered to her mouth. The temperature in the cell rose as they silently appraised one another.
“How are you feeling?” he finally asked.
“Better.” The truth. “My face hurts but I’ll survive.”
Takeshi’s muscles held taut, his infernal energy wrapping around her like a cloak.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so low, she almost didn’t hear him.
“For what?”
“For ever agreeing to this plan. For letting them bring you here.”
“You didn’tletthem do anything.” She shook her head. “It was my decision.”
“And I should’ve tied you down and forced them to take someone else.”
“You don’t think I can get the job done?”