Page 122 of Us Dark Few

Brock studied her for a few moments and let out a crack of a smile. “You talk a big game when I could kill you where you stand. But I’ll give you the chance to defy death. Or attempt to, rather. I will help onlyifyou manage to get a guard to aid our escape. If not, you’re on your own. Don’t talk to me again until you have an update.” Brock walked away.

Serene stared after him with her mouth agape and turned to Khalani incredulously. “You’re not going to say what I think you are about to say.”

“It needs to be Takeshi,” she said in a clipped voice, hating the words escaping her mouth.

They argued with her.

“He is the Captain. That is suicide.”

“I know he didn’t turn us in, but he helped kill all those prisoners.”

She held her hands up. “Trust me, I know what you guys are thinking. But he’s literally the only one whom we could even ask. If he says no, we will just have to do the plan without Brock. We have to try.”

They frowned, unhappy about it, but they eventually conceded.

Khalani took a deep breath, readying herself to confront the one person who unraveled her the most.

The one who restarted her heart only to break it with his own hands.

It was time to face Takeshi.

29

Carve open my mind and witness a sea of you pouring out.

She cracked her fingers individually while she sat in the dark hollow of her cell—again. The echoing snaps and pops filtered through the space like a distorted melody of impending doom. Her gaze was fixed on the chalked lines on the stone wall.

Khalani wished she could’ve met the prisoner who had once inhabited her cell. The person who had the energy to tally their days in Braderhelm Prison.

497. She’d counted many times.

Did they die with their dreams still trapped inside?

She didn’t dare number how many hopes, beliefs, and wishes had perished underground.

How sad a fate, to be born out of pain, only to have the cycle of suffering continue. As if humans pass down the misery inherited from their mothers.

Hard footsteps echoed outside Khalani’s cell.

Her back stiffened. Stress lines bracketed the corners of her mouthas she stood and peeked out her cell. Her hands tightened around the cold bars as Takeshi came into view.

The sharp lines of his cheekbones stood out, and the soft locks of Takeshi’s black, disheveled hair swept over his face. Not in a way that appeared messy or sloppy, but in a way that was effortless and captivating, as if his harsh beauty didn’t require attention but manifested it anyway.

His long legs ate up the walkway as he strode through the halls, completing the cell count for the night. Dressed in all black, with an unrelenting fire in his gaze, he looked like a harbinger of hell, prepared to annihilate his enemies.

“Takeshi,” Khalani whispered when he passed her cell.

He immediately froze. The lines on his forehead deepened as he slowly turned to her. The guarded expression in his sharp gaze made her pulse beat faster. Memories of the kiss they shared speared her mind.

Try as she might, there was no forgetting that.

The way his lips claimed hers. The way his fingers grazed over her body with tenderness, but his inky eyes stared into her own with a promise—a warning—no longer simply the quiet, vigilant force.

When Takeshi surrendered to his desires, he wouldn’t just take.

He’d possess and linger over every square inch, until no doubt remained of who you belonged to.

And she’d been prepared to yield everything to him, all her doubts and fears wrapped in a jar, but he took that glass and smashed it against the wall.

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