บททั้งหมดของ The prison where I found you: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

The empty space on the desk seemed to radiate cold air.I stared at the spot where the glossy paper had been resting only moments before. The faint outline of dust around where the corner had rested was the only proof it had ever existed at all. My skin prickled with a sudden, sharp paranoia that made the hair on my arms stand up."It was right here," I whispered, my finger hovering over the blank wood. "Kael... it was right here."Kael’s reaction was instantaneous and terrifying. In less than a second, the tender man who had been holding my face vanished, replaced by the lethal, hyper-vigilant Reaper. He pivoted on his heel, his left hand instinctively reaching for the heavy iron latch of his cell door, his body low and braced for an attack.The heavy steel door was still locked from the inside, the deadbolt set. The narrow high-window bars were untouched.Someone had entered the outer office area during those few brief moments when our focus had narrowed to each other—or worse, some

We found Vance sitting in the dark beneath the iron catwalks of the old furnace room, his head buried in his hands.He didn't run when Kael kicked open the heavy oak door. He didn't reach for the blade resting on the crate beside him. He just looked up, his face hollow, his eyes red-rimmed and sunken in the dim amber light of the emergency bulbs.Kael moved like a striking viper. Before I could shout, he had Vance by the throat, slamming him against the iron boiler frame with enough force to rattle the pipes overhead."Five years," Kael growled, his voice a terrifying, gutteral rasp as his knuckles turned white against Vance's windpipe. "Five years I trusted you with the block, Vance. You marked my corridors. You brought them straight to my cell."Vance choked, his hands clawing weakly at Kael's iron wrist. He didn't fight back. Tears cut clean, pale tracks through the soot on his cheeks."They... they have my daughter, Kael," Vance choked out, his voice cracking into a ragged sob. "I

The light from the penlight flickered against the damp concrete, but it was enough to illuminate the sudden, terrifying shift in Kael’s face.He didn't move. He stood completely frozen, his eyes glued to the nine words printed on the white paper. The warmth that had filled the air between us just minutes ago didn't just vanish; it was erased, replaced by an icy, suffocating dread."Kael," I said, stepping right into his line of sight, my voice rising. "Who is 'she'?"Kael’s hand closed around the paper, crushing it into a tight ball within his fist. He thrust his blade back into his belt and turned his head away, staring blankly into the dark mouth of the ventilation shaft."It's nothing," Kael rasped, his voice dropping into that familiar, guarded monotone I hated. "Just another mind game from Mercer's network.""Don't do that," I snapped, my blood running cold as my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. "Don't you dare close off on me again! Not after what we just shared! Loo

The silence between us stretched long after the dust from the collapsed tunnel had begun to settle.Kael’s hands remained anchored to my waist, his broad fingers pressing into my back through the torn fabric of my jumpsuit. He stared at me, his storm-gray eyes wide, illuminated only by the flickering amber light of a exposed electrical wire hanging from the shattered ceiling.Slowly, the stunned paralysis on his face began to break. His throat worked as he swallowed hard, a deep, shuddering breath tearing through his chest."I love you, Hart," Kael whispered.The words came out raw, gravelly, and unpolished—devoid of the careful operational precision he applied to everything else in his life. He brought his uninjured hand up, his trembling, blood-dusted thumb gently wiping a streak of grime from my cheek."I've loved you since the night I watched you take a blow meant for me in the lower yard," Kael rasped, his voice cracking slightly as he held my gaze. "I loved you when I hated myse

The pre-dawn light through the high, barred window of my cell was the color of wet slate.I sat on the edge of my iron cot, my thumb tracing the edge of a fresh piece of rough brown paper I had retrieved from the third laundry bin during morning collection. It had been tucked inside the lining of a clean pillowcase—a physical drop from Vance, who was still quietly operating in the shadows of C-Wing under my direction.The paper contained no greeting. It contained no tactical coordinates or prison grid marks.It contained a single name written in Kael’s sharp, heavy handwriting:*Julian Vance-Cross.*I stared at the black ink. The name felt cold, alien, and entirely disconnected from the iron walls around me.At first, my mind drew a blank. I ran the name through my memory, searching my old client lists, the corporate directories of my former accounting firm in downtown Chicago, and the federal indictment sheets that had destroyed my life. Nothing clicked."Julian..." I whispered to th