Page 49 of Lose Me In The Shadows

Luke grunted in agreement.

There was no chance in hell that Micah would be able to focus on the hit while he was worried about her. It would be hard to juggle, but they’d figure it out. He needed her with them, within sight, being watched and taken care of by the people he trusted most in the world. He needed her, and Micah had never let himself need anyone. It was a humbling thought. But he wasn’t the type to deny reality—he was the type to shape it. He might need her, but he’d make sure she needed him just as badly.

She was already part way there.

She was trapped.

She was trapped, in a dank, dark cell, and no one was coming for her. No one knew where she was. No one cared. Chris was going to have his soldiers rape her, and leave her a shell of who she was, and then they were going to hurt her more, and kill her, and it was her fault.

“Help! Please!” she screamed, knowing that it was useless. And it hurt, to scream, because there wasn’t enough air in her lungs. How could she scream when she could barely breathe?

Oh, god. She couldn’tbreathe.

“Kara. Kara, safe girl, you’re okay. You’re okay. Wake up.”

Athwacksounded. Her left thigh stung, pulling her out of the dream and back into reality.

She wasn’t in that cell anymore. Instead she was in a lavishly appointed but minimalist bedroom, in the way only rich people could make a mostly bare room seem like the biggest display of wealth ever. The bed was awash in a deep yellow glow from a light on the nightstand. Who had turned on the light? Where was Luke? Why had he left her?

Oh. Kneeling next to her on the bed was a troubled-looking Conor.

“You were having a nightmare,” he told her.

Her heart was still pounding, and the realization that hit her—that she was still trapped, still not free, and Chris was still after her—almost shoved her back into panic attack mode.

Conor smacked her on the thigh again before she could spin out of control. “Breathe, Kara,” he commanded. “Don’t think about anything else, don’t do anything else. All you’re doing right now is breathing with me. Inhale and exhale.”

He demonstrated and she imitated him, feeling the weight drop off as her heart relaxed and slowed.

Conor’s eyes warmed.

“Good girl,” he said, gathering her into his arms and rising off the bed.

“I don’t think spanking me is the right way to get me to stop panicking,” Kara said.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he said, carrying her across the room and into the bathroom before setting her on the sink.

“Maybe not the sink?” she said. I don’t want to break it and piss off Marcus.”

“Marcus probably doesn’t even know this bathroom exists. And you won’t break it,” Conor said.

The bathroom was as minimalist and opulent as the bedroom—a huge tub, an even bigger shower, everything stark and white and so, so boring. Kara loved HGTV as much as the next person, but come the fuck on.

“Well, maybe we’d be doing him a favor if we broke the bathroom. He needs a better interior designer,” she remarked.

Conor chuckled as he turned the knobs on the tub and tested the water. “I think he was fucking the last one.”

“It couldn’t have been good, given how blah her taste is.”

This time, Conor threw back his head and laughed. It was deep and pure, almost joyful. Kara still wasn’t used to the change in him. Back at the cabin, whenever he’d laugh, it was dark and almost angry—like he was laughing about how the world had fucked him over and how he was anticipating fucking it back in return. But ever since they’d rescued her, his laugh was different.

“You seem happy,” she observed. “Everything is going to hell, but you seem happy.”

“What are you accusing me of?” he asked her. He abandoned the tub to approach her, bending his knees slightly so their faces were parallel. His dark eyes were so clear. They made her think of some poem she’d read in grad school, about how sometimes the night wrapped around you like a blanket and protected you from the dangers of daytime.

Chris had hated that poem.

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I’m just not used to seeing you happy.”

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