6
Beware the ink that bleeds red.
I always thought my eyes would close
When my heart reached the end
I prepared to greet death
Kept the beats close to my chest
I prayed for victories
Agonized over defeats
And when the time finally arrived
The pounding was gone
But I remained behind
Don’t you remember?
I gave the pieces to you
Let you play with my lines
Trace over the scars
You didn’t change the flaws
But the weight of me
Somehow
Felt better in your hands
I’ve forgotten what it was like
To taste the same air as you
Hold myself just as good
Face the world standing tall
But I watched as you left
Laid our memories to rest
While no one else knows
That I would rather wail
Sink to my knees
Throw away every pen
Because what good are words
When you will never read them?
Tell me.
Just tell me.
Please God…tell me.
Khalani sat in the church pew, her gaze blank as she stared ahead, letting the poetry rest on the edge of her knees.
Every other pew was empty, same as every other day he’d been gone.
It was quite clever, really. Using a church as a safe house.
For all the debauchery and violence that occurred in Hermes, she doubted anyone would enter the sanctuary, seeking repentance.
So, she sat alone, with only a wooden cross to judge her guilt.
Khalani nearly jumped out of her seat when a small figure in an oversized dark blue shirt and black pants appeared at her right.
“Hey,” Elise whispered. Her blond hair was knotted in a messy bun. Flyaway hairs framed her face, and deep stress lines etched into her forehead that made her look years older.
“Hey,” Khalani said, her voice low.
“Mind if I sit?”
Khalani immediately scooted over. She flipped her writings and tucked the page under her legs, clasping her hands tight as she stared ahead.
“How long has it been since they took him?” Elise tentatively asked.
“One week.”
All Khalani had been told was that Lane had performed the surgery, and Takeshi was still recovering. Nothing more. No word on whether the chip had been removed, or if his memory had returned.
But he was alive.
Hope hadn’t fled just yet, but Khalani didn’t know what to do or how to prepare for what was coming.
Words seemed hollow, but her body felt the opposite. Too full. And the only place she’d found a modicum of peace was in the abandoned church.
“I’m sorry,” Elise whispered. “I know it must be hard. I could tell you and Takeshi were close just by the way he looked at you.”
“What do you mean?”
Elise glanced up at the murals, her mouth curving in a solemn smile. “He looked at you like he wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anything—or anyone—that hurt you. Like you were the only thing that mattered.”
Khalani’s eyes watered, reliving every single moment.
“In another story, you would’ve been my beginning.”
She peeked at Elise, recognizing the same pain and numbness reflected in her expression. Even though Khalani had always shied away from touch, she reached over and grasped Elise’s cold hand.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when your dad died.”
Elise’s chin trembled as she squeezed her hand back. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Doctor Strauss locked you in his building. The crazy thing is, I knew only one of us would make it out of that camp alive. And I always thought it’d be him.”
Khalani didn’t speak for a long while. She just held Elise’s hand, reminding her that grief shouldn’t have to be carried alone.
When you lose someone, people assume you want space. But what they don’t realize is that sharing the beautiful memories is less painful than forgetting them.
Because eventually, it becomes harder to remember their voice. Their laugh. How their eyes used to light up from across a room.
The pain is proof that they were real.
“I bet he’s watching you right now.” Khalani spoke from her bleeding heart. “And he’s proud that you made it out. That you’re still moving forward, no matter how difficult the journey is.”
Elise furrowed her brow. She turned her head, desperation filling her gaze. “Do you really think that’s true, Khalani? That the dead wait for us?”
“For a long time I didn’t,” Khalani admitted, her green eyes glistening. “But I met people who made me believe otherwise. On the days when it hurts too much, I think of the ones I still have to live for.”
For the first time since she’d been in prison camp, a genuine smile broke across Elise’s face.
It may have been small, but it was enough.
A hope that waited for both of them.
But not yet.
Not fucking yet.
As long as they were still alive, their fight wasn’t finished.
* * *
“It’s good to see you eating, Khalani,” Adan said from across the table, nodding toward her nearly empty plate.
Her appetite had all but disappeared over the last few days, but Khalani’s conversation with Elise had given her new strength. Elise sat to Adan’s left and ravaged her entire plate as well.
“If you’re still hungry, you can have some more of mine,” Adan offered in a gentle voice.
Elise blinked at him with wide eyes, as if she hadn’t expected anyone to notice her. She blushed, shaking her head. But Adan wouldn’t take no for an answer and slid a piece of bread onto her plate.
“I have a sister that gets hangry, so this is more for my preservation.” He winked, and more blood crept into Elise’s cheeks.
“Oh, for crying out loud, Adan. When was the last time you got laid? Your attempt at flirting is abysmal,” Serene scoffed.
Brock took a long sip from his beer to hide the smirk.
Adan flipped his sister off. “Coming from the person who’d rather steal a heart than win one.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Excellent point, Serene,” Winnie praised. “‘All is fair in love and war,’ as they say.”
“Only if war turns you on,” Adan grumbled.
“Don’t kid yourself.” Brock leaned back in his chair. “War turns everyone on. Don’t you agree, Serene?” The fire in his eyes grew brighter as Serene glared daggers at him.
“I think you’re one second away from having my food decorate your face.”
“Do that and I’ll make you lick it off.” Brock grinned.
Serene gritted her teeth and began to rise.
But the moment shattered when Jack and Spade walked over.
“I have news,” Jack announced.
“About Takeshi?”
He nodded. “He’s awake.”
She let out a deep breath, nearly sagging in her chair, but Serene and Winnie wrapped their arms around her, supporting her in every way possible.
“Did they get the chip out? Does he remember?” Serene quickly asked.
Jack hesitated, a guarded look in his eyes, and the joy soaring through her began deflating.
“When Lane gets here, he’ll explain everything,” he hedged.
“Tell me what you know,” Khalani demanded, finding her voice again.
Jack and Spade exchanged an anxious glance, but before they could say anything, the door to the church opened. Everyone lifted their heads at the hard echo of boots stomping down the hallway.
The first person who appeared was Lane, wearing a tense expression, with bruises feathering his nose.
And like a lost dream, another familiar figure walked around the corner.