Page 14 of Lose Me In The Shadows

“I don’t believe the universe would do that to us. We’re meant to be together, the four of us.”

“Bullshit.” Kara had made her choice.

Micah peered at him. “You’re really willing to let her go?”

No.

Conor put his head in his hands. “I can’t focus on that right now. Once Luke recovers…” he trailed off.

Micah stroked the top of his head, and Conor resisted leaning into it.

Don’t deserve the comfort. Never have, never will.

Besides, watching someone he loved lie unconscious on an “exam” table, the smell of antiseptic, the gut-wrenching fear… it all brought back memories of Conor’s father’s death. He’d only been eleven, but as he’d watched his father fade away in that hospital bed, day in and day out, he’d realized that fear sometimes was a certainty—because he knew that he was going to be the man of the family soon. Not because his mom wasn’t strong, but because that was the role his father had placed on his shoulders, and that was how Conor would honor him.

He’d been a naïve, idealistic kid, hadn’t he? Sure that it was his job to take care of a family Conor hadn’t spoken to in months. Convinced that the Navy was where heroes were made, and all he had to show for it was a dishonorable discharge, and another career as a paid murderer—except this one didn’t come with the belief he was doing good in the world. Or a pension plan.

Probably didn’t matter. Wasn’t like he’d live that long. Maybe Kara would come back and finish the job.

Why hadn’t she shot him? Or Micah? Why only Luke? Did she not want to hurt Conor? Or was it only Luke that mattered to her, so it was only Luke who got her ire?

Conor wanted to ask her. Shake her. Grab her head in his hand and force her to look at Luke passed out on the kitchen island and see the devastation she’d wrought like a badly behaved puppy. She could apologize to him, to all of them, naked and on her knees.

Aren’t you the one who needs to apologize?

Conor hated that voice. It sounded reasonable, curious. Challenging.

It sounded like Kara.

“Maybe, probably. I don’t know where I went wrong,” he muttered.

“Conor?” Micah was still there. And concerned.

“Things have been bad with Luke since he confessed to sleeping with Kara over a year ago. I never forgave him for it. And I made sure he knew.”

Micah finally sat in the chair next to his, his blue eyes probing. “Why is that? Why did you forgive me, but not Luke?”

Conor had never considered that. To him, it only felt natural—forgive Micah, hold a grudge against Luke.

“Because that idiot is always fighting me for control.”

Micah shook his head. “That’s not it. The two of you have been measuring dicks for years, and it never got ugly like it did after you found out about Kara.”

Luke hadn’t moved. Why hadn’t he moved?

“Doc, we need a status update,” Conor barked.

Marcus turned, amused. “You’re not his boss.”

“My best friend is lying unconscious on our kitchen island. Are you really going to give me shit right now?”

Marcus inclined his head. “My mistake.”

The Doctor spoke. “I’m going to give him antibiotics intravenously to counteract any infection. My advice is you stop interrupting us to ask questions.”

If Conor wasn’t so distracted, he would’ve been shocked. He’d never heard the Doctor say so many words before—even collectively.

Micah put a hand on Conor’s shoulder, and for a moment, Conor allowed himself to accept the comfort offered.

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