Chapter 41: Chapter 41

Kazuya seizes my arm, pulling me up and nudging me forward. I stagger, my muscles weak and shaking.

Part of me is thrilled to see him, but the other part is thrown off by his icy demeanor. I sneak a peek at the Master being hauled behind me. His dark eyes are narrowed, focused on me.

I quickly look away. Despite everything, it seems like we’re in the same boat. Prisoners of war to the Kagegun.

I let Kazuya guide me. The Kagegun are decked out in gray Perfect soldier uniforms. They’re armed with Perfect rifles and their heavy helmets are firmly in place.

There also appear to be more Kagegun men than before. I count at least fifty. I strain to see ahead. I know Sanoske must be leading the way, but I can’t spot him.

I can’t shake off the memory of the last look he gave me before leaving me in my cell. The hatred in his eyes. The silence. I glance back at Kazuya, but he avoids my gaze, urging me forward.

We trudge on in silence for a few hours, navigating through rubble and the skeletal remains of ancient buildings. I struggle to keep up. My breath comes out in ragged gasps. I can feel my muscles quivering from the effort.

Kazuya keeps a firm grip on my arm, pulling me along—though he’s gentler than before, he’s still essentially dragging me.

As the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, the Kagegun slow to a halt at the base of a towering ruin. I squint in the golden light, my eyes struggling to adjust.

I instinctively lean against Kazuya, and he doesn’t shrug me off. The men quickly file into the old building and vanish downstairs. Kazuya nudges me to follow.

We descend into the belly of the ruin. A heavy door is closed behind us, plunging us into darkness. For a moment, everyone seems to hold their breath.

Then Sanoske’s voice rings out, clear and commanding in the dark room.

“At ease.”

The Kagegun exhale, and suddenly they’re all talking at once in Japanese. Accusations fly, grunts of hunger echo, chuckles about narrow escapes fill the air. I’m enveloped in a familiar sense of safety.

Lights flicker on, illuminating the hall. I blink in the yellow glow. We’re standing at the entrance of a long hallway. I see the Master being led away, struggling against his restraints.

Around me, the Kagegun remove their helmets, set down their guns, and arrange them by the entrance. A few faces I don’t recognize. They must be soldiers from the Resistance. Their eyes sparkle with anticipation.

Kazuya steers me away from them. I hear their laughter as we follow the same path the Master was taken down.

He guides me into a large room. It’s a strange space, dark and damp, with a complex network of pipes crisscrossing the ceiling, all leading to the back of the room where I see a row of massive machines.

As I get closer, I realize they’re air conditioners. Extremely old air conditioners. They look like the ones we had at school, but they’ve been out of commission for a long time.

I wonder if I could fix one. But why would I want to?

Kazuya leads me through the room, weaving around the broken pipes and machines. Next to a particularly rusty-looking machine, I see the Master being strapped down, tied to the wire mesh.

His gag is removed, and he unleashes a torrent of curses. But he still accepts the water that Saito offers him.

Further off, on the other side of the water pumps, a few of the Kagegun men are setting up camp.

I recognize their sleeping bags, the food being rapidly passed around. They strip off their Perfect uniforms and reveal the weapons they’d been concealing.

Kazuya drags me over to the Master and drops me on the ground. He crouches in front of me and takes off his helmet. His dark hair falls into his eyes. He studies my face as he removes my gag.

I let out a deep cough and can’t stop until he thrusts a canteen of water into my hands and I gulp it down.

When I can breathe again, I notice he’s sitting next to me, watching his fellow soldiers set up camp through the wire mesh that separates us from them.

“Kazuya,” I rasp.

He looks at me. “Here,” he says, reaching behind me to gently untie the knot binding my hands.

I bring my hands in front of me, rubbing my raw wrists. Kazuya watches me. I’m suddenly painfully aware of my situation.

I’m dressed in a rag that used to be a green dress, reeking of filth, my face and body caked with dirt and ash. I seem to be a prisoner of the people I trusted the most.

I look at Kazuya again. He meets my gaze, his expression guarded.

“Kazuya, you know I’m not a spy, right?” I ask.

Kazuya’s lips twitch slightly, and he averts his gaze. He fiddles with a biscuit in his large hands.

“I know you’re not a spy, Alex,” he finally says, handing me the biscicket. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be useful as bait.”

My eyes widen. I still take a bite of the food. It crumbles in my mouth. Dry and sweet. My mouth waters.

“You’re using me as bait?” I rasp.

Kazuya presses his lips together. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“You could have left me in my cell,” I retort, suddenly irritated with the way I’ve been treated.

“You were going to die there,” he counters.

I glare at him and finish my biscuit. I look at his bag of food expectantly. With a small smile, he hands me another biscuit, which I practically inhale.

“Where are you taking us?” I ask, nodding toward the Master. His head is resting against the wall, his eyes closed. Trying to sleep.

“South,” Kazuya answers quietly.

I look around the room. Some of the Kagegun have already crawled into their sleeping bags and fallen fast asleep.

“Kazuya.” I search his face. The face of my friend. He’s hesitant to meet my gaze. “All I need is to find my daughter and get out of here.”

“It’s not that easy, Alex.”

“It’s possible.”

He presses his lips together, rakes his fingers through his hair, and shakes his head. I pull my eyes away from his and watch the Kagegun drifting off to sleep. I catch Haruhiko’s gaze. He graces me with a smile that fills me with warmth. He looks good.

Takeshi, Akira, Saito, and Jun all offer me small nods and faint smiles. I realize, watching them, that they’re just as glad to have me back as I am to be with them again. Even as a captive.

I inch closer to Kazuya and lean against his arm. He quickly wraps his arm around my shoulders and holds me gently against his sturdy body, despite my likely unpleasant smell.

I lean into him. “I’m not giving up,” I caution him.

“I know.” He chuckles.

I let my eyes close and my head nestle into Kazuya’s side. Ironically, as the Kagegun’s captive, I’ve never felt safer.

I listen to the soft Japanese voices, jokes being tossed around, and a loud Haruhiko giggle. Kazuya gives me a tight squeeze.

Suddenly I hear his voice. “Kazuya,” he says. My eyes snap open. Sanoske is standing before us, his hair falling into his almond eyes.

He’s shed his Perfect jacket, wearing only a thin gray shirt. His muscles strain against the thin fabric, and his sword hangs casually by his hip.

I gaze up at him. He pays me no mind.

“I’ll keep her safe tonight. She’s already eaten all my food,” Kazuya informs him.

Sanoske looks at me. His dark eyes pierce mine. There’s fury there. I’ve seen it before. A fiery rage, hatred. I shudder.

“No, I’ll take her,” he snaps, extending his arm and pulling me from Kazuya’s warm embrace.

Kazuya hesitates before releasing me. Sanoske bids him good night in Japanese and guides me past the Kagegun to a corner of the room hidden behind rusty mesh wire and a half-broken air conditioner.

On the floor, I recognize his sleeping bag. He drops me on the ground, then sits down slowly and removes his boots. He folds his jacket and arranges his sword and daggers beside his sleeping bag.

I watch him in silence. My thoughts swarm with memories of him, his eyes filled with hatred, rage, and betrayal. That look he’d given me when Mayor Richardson and Roy dragged me away.

The feel of his lips against mine. His rough groping. His smile, his smirk, his laugh. The times he swooped in to save my life.

He catches me watching him and stares at me. I glare at him. I’m torn between wanting to hit him or hug him.

Hitting him comes first.

My hand comes up and out faster than I expect it to. I catch him on the side of his face. The smack of my skin against his echoes in the chamber.

He blinks at me, just as surprised as I am that I managed to land my slap.

Then he grabs my wrist and holds my hand up by his face. We stare at each other. His eyes pierce mine. My heart races in my chest. I try to pull away from him, but he holds on to me.

“Stop,” he growls.

“Let me go,” I snarl at him. “How could you let them take me? Why didn’t you stop them? You were supposed to keep me safe.” My voice breaks.

I take a deep breath to regain control. My angry resolve wavers as I glare at him. His expression is serious, his dark eyes clear, and his mouth pressed into a tight line.

“Alex.”

“You know I’m not a spy,” I snap. “You know I could never work with a Master. You know why! You know what he did to me! How could you let them torture me like that?”

Tears sting my eyes, and I wipe at them furiously. I’m angry at myself for showing him my raw emotions.

Sanoske’s expression remains calm. His hand doesn’t move; he keeps gripping my wrist.

“I know. I’m sorry. I tried to get you out. Kidnapping you was my last option.”

I blink at him.

“You never came to see me.”

“I couldn’t.”

“You just left me there.”

“I was always going to come and get you.”

“After they tortured me.”

“I didn’t know they were doing that, not until I cornered Len. I’m sorry, Alex. Had I known, I would have come for you sooner.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. His expression is drawn, weary.

“Let me hold you. Please,” he says.

I stare at him. “No.”

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” he whispers.

I blink at him. “But you did. You hurt me.”

“I’m sorry.”

I stare at him, then find myself nodding. Very slowly, he draws me close to him so his head rests gently over mine. His hand slowly moves around my waist to my back, and he pulls me against him.

My face is pressed against his chest. I can hear his heart racing and feel the hardness of his muscles enclosing me. Suddenly I can’t fight it anymore.

My tears fall, and I bury my face in his chest. He holds me tightly against his body, resting his head on the top of my head. My body shudders, and he strokes my back.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry I didn’t come for you sooner.”

His fingers glide across my back.

“I want to hate you, Alex,” he whispers. My muscles stiffen and I try to draw back, but he doesn’t let me. He holds me even tighter.

“I wanted to use you as a mascot for my men at first, even as something they could use for their pleasure. I want to hate you.” His voice is very soft. I hear his heart racing. “But I can’t.”

He pulls back from me suddenly, cupping my face and lifting it to his. I stare into his eyes. They’re wide, moving quickly over my face, his expression urgent. His arm holds me against him still.

“I broke your heart,” I admit in a whisper.

“I wanted you to despise me.”

“I didn’t earn that.”

“I can’t stay away from you anymore. I don’t have the strength to keep battling myself,” he confesses, his breath shaky.

“You’re late with this confession, Sanoske,” I whisper back.

He lowers his head, resting it on my shoulder.

“I can’t exist without you, Alex,” he murmurs against my collarbone, his breath warm.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always on my mind. I hate how you make me feel. I find myself watching you, desiring you. You were created to make me feel this way. It’s a trap. I want to despise myself.”

“I would have despised you myself once. It takes maturity to look beyond your enemy’s face and see the person who’s really there,” I respond.

He raises his head, locking eyes with me. His eyes are wide with surprise.

“You’re right. I’ve known for a long time who you are. I just didn’t want to admit it. I’m scared I’ll ruin you,” he whispers.

“I won’t let you,” I assure him. “I won’t let any man ruin me again.”

I lift my chin defiantly. His eyes sparkle.

“I couldn’t abandon you,” he admits, his breath heavy.

“I won’t be a pawn.”

“We’ll see about that.”

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. I find myself drawn to it.

“Alex.” Sanoske’s hand reaches up to stroke my face. I feel a shudder run through my body, relaxing into his arms. He lets out a small groan, wrapping his arm tightly around me.

“I can’t fight this attraction any longer, Alex,” he whispers. “Could you be mine?”

“I have been for a long time already,” I murmur, meeting his gaze.

His eyes widen. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Neither can I.”

Sanoske nods slowly, his fingers lightly tracing my cheek.

“I’m scared.”

His words are so soft I almost miss them. “So am I,” I confess.

He cracks a smile. “I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake,” he continues softly. “But I can’t control myself around you. Stay with me tonight? I don’t want to let you go.”

“Aren’t I a captive?” I question.

Sanoske’s eyes widen, and he grins at me. “Yes, you are,” he agrees. “Mine.”

He wraps his arms tighter around me and pulls me down onto the sleeping bag. I feel the weight of his body on mine. His hands are on either side of my body, his face inches from mine.

“I mean it, Alex, when I say ‘mine,’” he breathes. “Not in the Perfect way. I want you as mine. As long as I’m alive, I will always want you to be mine.”

I blink at him. The concept of an exclusive relationship between a man and a woman was foreign and dangerous with Eric, but I grew to appreciate it with Liam and the idea of it with Roy.

Now, as I look up into Sanoske’s eyes, I can’t imagine it any other way.

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Sanoske gazes down at me, then slowly rolls off me. I watch as he unzips his sleeping bag and gestures for me to get in. I glance down at my tattered clothes. Sanoske watches me carefully.

“You can wear this. And we’ll find you something else tomorrow,” he offers, removing his shirt and handing it to me.

As I thank him, my gaze travels up and down his chest. His hard muscles tense. I see scars. So many scars, crisscrossing his chest.

“Alex,” he starts, hesitating.

“Give me a second.” I stand back up, holding his shirt. Sanoske nods.

“Don’t…” He pauses. “Don’t leave me, please,” he murmurs.

I look down at him. “I won’t,” I promise. I grab his water canteen from the ground and walk away quickly, into the hall. I can feel the intense gaze of the Kagegun men on my back.

I don’t go far, just out of sight to where an old pipe still drips water onto the concrete floor. I strip off the ragged dress and stand naked for a moment, examining my body. I look thinner and feel weaker.

I find myself wondering what type of body Sanoske prefers: when I was strong and fast? Soft and curvy in the establishment? Or now, thin and weak?

Carefully, I stand under the drip and pour a little water into my palm from his canteen, washing my face, then my arms, then my chest, my back, my legs. I drink the last of the water. I already feel much cleaner.

I stand under the drip a little longer, watching the dirty water pool at my feet. When the water drips clear, I wring out my hair and pull Sanoske’s shirt over my head.

It smells like him. It’s too big for me, loose around my body, hanging down to the top of my thighs. I push my hair back into a long braid, take a deep breath, then walk back to the chamber.

The Kagegun men watch me, discreetly, through the machines and mesh. The lights have been turned off and they’re in their sleeping bags, but I can feel their gazes.

In the far corner, I can just make out Kazuya leaning against the wall, his bokken in his hands, watching me. I break from his gaze and walk to Sanoske.

He sits by his sleeping bag, holding his sword. He gives me the smallest smile when I approach.

“Come,” he invites, holding the sleeping bag open for me and watching as I slip in. He slides in behind me and zips it up around us.

His hands are gentle as they tug at my shoulder, turning me to face him. His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close. His gaze is intense, and I feel a warmth spreading through me.

“I’m not letting you go,” he declares.

“Good,” I respond.

He leans in, our foreheads touching.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he murmurs, his warm breath brushing against my skin.

“I’m still mad at you,” I admit. “I trusted you. I regret it, but I did. And Roy and his father…” My voice trails off.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I would have come for you sooner if I could. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t like being hurt by men,” I confess.

“I’ll have to teach you to defend yourself then,” he suggests.

My eyes widen in surprise. “You’ll teach me?”

“I don’t have a choice if I’m keeping you around. I need you to be able to defend yourself.” He grins.

“I need to know so that I can save Beth,” I remind him.

“I know.” He falls silent for a moment. I move closer, wrapping my arm around his bare chest, my fingers tracing the scars that mar his skin.

I savor the feel of his skin, the hard muscles beneath, the goosebumps that rise as my fingers pass over them. I feel him tense beneath me.

“Alex,” he manages to say. “You should sleep.”

I blink at him. “Will you sleep?” I ask.

“I won’t. I have someone to protect,” he whispers.

He pulls me closer. His hand hooks around my back, drawing me to him.

I gasp softly. I can feel the heat of his skin through my shirt. His other hand moves slowly up my body, tracing my hip, my waist, my arm until it cradles my face.

“I’m not letting you go, Alex,” Sanoske promises before pulling my face to his. His lips meet mine, soft and gentle, but insistent.