Cellar Door

And his eyes—those eyes that I can never forget—are watching me. He opens his mouth, but only the faintest whisper escapes.

“He can’t talk.”

I don’t flinch at the sound of Luke’s voice. Nothing is so jarring as the sight before me.

“But he likes to slam his block there to get attention, and he can hear just fine. You really did give him a show last night,” he says, and I close my eyes briefly as disgust worms into my gut. “I wouldn’t be opposed to an encore.”

Luke snags the keys from my hand, and I think about the knife peeking out of my back pocket.

“He grunts a lot,” Luke continues. “Makes enough noise to let you know what he wants, but otherwise, he’s useless.”

I swallow the bile glazing my throat. “You kept him alive.”

“I always keep them alive for a while. Until they give in, give up. Give me a name.” He moves into the room. He stands close. I can feel his body heat along my back. “Hudson is, by far, the most stubborn. Either he’s more afraid of what they’ll do to him, or he really doesn’t know who’s in charge.”

A shuddering breath escapes. “Why didn’t you kill him?” I want to look away, but I can’t. Hudson gasps for air, in pain, unable to form words. He’s half dead already. “When you got your answer, why didn’t you just kill him?”

It’s a selfish question.

After the truth of my partner was revealed to me, it was easier knowing he was dead. That he already paid his price, and there was nothing I could do. No decision had to be made, no punishment to decide. It wasn’t up to me, because he was gone. I never had to look Hudson in the eyes and ask why?

“You’re right,” Luke says. “I don’t need him anymore. You gave me the answer the first day you were here, Mak.” He spits my name, and I’m not sure if it’s meant as an insult to me or another affront to Hudson, using my nickname.

“Why then?” I demand.

“Look at the walls,” he says. “Look all around you. Here.” He takes a file down from the wall where it’s pinned. And I notice for the first time all the white files that paper-wall the room. They have names. God, how many more are there—how many does he plan to torture, to kill?

He holds the file out to me. Detective Royce Hudson is handwritten on the cover. I shake my head. “No.” I can’t open that file. It’s Pandora’s box. If I see what’s within, I’ll be sucked down into the same dark pit as Luke.

“I don’t want to know,” I say, as I attempt to get around Luke. I need to leave. I was so close… Escape was so close, and I need to go back. To just five minutes ago. Before I opened the door.

Luke blocks the doorway, an immovable force. He takes my hand and makes me accept the file. I lift my gaze to his, a silent plea trapped inside me.

“I was tempted,” he says. He swallows, his Adam’s apple working hard. “For just a second, I thought about what if. What if you were this beautiful angel with a broken wing sent to save me.”

“That’s sounds crazy.”

His smile is dejected. “I know. I figured that out. You’re no angel. But you’re still a beautiful interruption to my pain that made me question what if…we’re enough.”

I reach out to him, and he lets me place my hand to his chest. His heart bangs his chest wall beneath my palm. It’s enough for me—to know he’s alive inside. That maybe…

I remove my hand.

Luke lifts his chin, his gaze cast down on me. “After all this darkness, Makenna,” he says, “we’d never be enough for each other. You know this.”

“We could try…when it’s over.” But even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a lie. I glance around at the files. “This won’t ever end.” My voice quivers with the realization.

“Why should it end?” Luke asks. “You think Myer and her empire are the only devils out there? There are so many…sometimes I can’t breathe, knowing that every few seconds someone else’s daughter, sister, girlfriend go

es missing, and the torment they endure. Pure hell, Makenna. That’s what’s inside my head. Pure fucking hell. So no, this won’t ever end.”

I nod, sealing my eyes closed against the flame in his luminous blue eyes. He’s my monster, and I have to accept him. As I open my eyes, as I truly see him, I know there’s too much ruin to ever escape this cellar.

I feel his hand on me then. He palms my cheek, his thumb tips my chin up as he stares down at me, rapt for a moment, before he slides his hands to my shoulders and forces me turn and face Hudson.

Luke slips the necklace over my head, fastening the clasp together at the back of my neck. He places a tender kiss there, a cruel reminder of how much I love his touch, then the feel of his presence is gone.

“The longer I kept you here,” he says, his voice farther behind me, “the more I realized something.” He slips the knife from my back pocket and places the hilt into my hand. “He’s not my kill.”