Page 84 of Us Dark Few

Takeshi proceeded to punch him in the head, over and over. His expression transformed into a heated rage as he slammed his knuckles into Barron’s broken, unrecognizable face. Blood splayed everywhere, but Takeshi didn’t relent.

She’d never seen Takeshi like that, so overtaken with fury.

When it was clear Barron’s body no longer moved, Takeshi finally stopped, but remained crouched over him like a hungry animal. He breathed heavily, his fists clenching as if he wanted to continue the blistering assault.

Khalani silently watched from the ground as her vision faded in and out. Takeshi whipped his head when she let out a small whimper of pain. He rushed to her side and knelt over her body.

“Kanes! Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Takeshi’s ferocious expression darkened as he readjusted her top to cover her naked breast. His large hand gently cradled her cheek, and his shadowed eyes pierced her with such anguish, as though he himself had been the one hurt.

Khalani nodded and tried to sit up, but vertigo almost made her lose consciousness. She leaned to the left, puking her lunch out. Takeshi moved behind her, supporting her body up as he pushed her hair out of her face and continuously rubbed her back.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he consoled her.

When she began to dry-heave, Takeshi slid his arms under her body and lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed no more than a feather.

Khalani feebly shook her head, not wanting to be a burden, and tried to wriggle free, mumbling that she could walk.

Takeshi would have none of it.

“Be still, Kanes. Nothing in this world would make me put you down right now,” he declared, his voice guttural.

His words ushered into her ear like a metronome, soothing her troubled mind, making her want to fall asleep. That was all she wanted to do, sleep.

She felt his arms tighten around her, his gentle and protective touch the diametric opposite of Barron’s.

Her lids slowly began to close, and the last thing she remembered was Takeshi’s black eyes gazing down at her with concern, tenderness, and a depth of angry passion that rivaled every story that’d been written and song that’d been sung.

22

You’ve taken all my nothings and fashioned them into somethings.

The first thing Khalani registered was a damp cloth gently patting her forehead. Her head lay on a firm pillow, perfectly placed to support her neck, and a familiar scent wafted through her nose.

She shifted her head and opened her eyes.

Takeshi was sitting right next to her, watching over her with concern as he dabbed the cloth on her head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. You were getting hot,” he swiftly explained, pulling his hand away.

Khalani looked around in confusion.

She was in a dark room furnished only with a tiny black dresser, a sparse desk, and the formidable bed she was lying on. A bedside lamp illuminated warm light on Takeshi’s face. He still wore his black uniform, and his hair was disheveled.

“Where am I?” she croaked out.

“I brought you to my room. The medical ward has a different doctor on shift tonight, and he would ask too many questions.The best option was to bring you here.” Takeshi cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

Khalani groaned as she sat up. He scooted back, his troubled gaze never straying from her. “I think you suffered a concussion, and your neck will be bruised for the next few days. You just need rest,” he added, like he was reassuring himself.

After considerable effort, she straightened and rested her head against the stone wall. Khalani gave a gentle nod, ignoring the pain from the welt on her forehead, genuinely grateful for Takeshi’s presence. If he hadn’t shown up…

She clenched her teeth, wanting to bathe in scalding water and cut herself apart. Anything to rid her body and mind of Barron’s callous hands brushing over her skin, like her body was someone else’s to claim.

Takeshi tilted his head, noticing the renewed tension in her muscles.

“And Barron?” she gritted out.

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