Page 82 of Us Defiant Few

Another tear tracked down her face as multiple darts struck him in retribution.

Khalani struggled to bring her lips together to spill a desperate plea.

Go. Leave me.

But all that came out of her mouth was a low moan.

Takeshi knelt over her, protecting her body with his own, refusing to leave her side as he continued to fire furiously. Another flurry of darts smacked into him, and his knee bottomed out, planting him to the sand.

GO!

He didn’t hear the silent scream that tore through her.

And Khalani lay helpless as Takeshi’s large body swayed and fell. His cheek hit the ground beside her, his wide gaze locking with hers, neither of them able to speak or save each other.

With Herculean effort, he slowly moved his hand across the sand until his fingertips grazed hers.

Shouts erupted in the distance, but the sounds were muffled, like she was drowning underwater. Her focus centered on Takeshi’s fingers that touched hers, grounding her.

That small connection kept her breathing.

But a bag was suddenly yanked over her head.

And everything went black.

21

I’ll sing for you if you scream for me.

Khalani jolted, waking up in a dark tent.

She blinked, her brain foggy as she tried to make sense of her surroundings.

Where the hell was she?

Khalani vaguely realized she was seated in a metal chair.

Her eyes darted around, frantically searching for Takeshi in the small enclave, but she was completely alone. The brown tent flap fluttered slightly, the barest hint of sunlight peeking through.

Khalani moved to stand, but her legs were tied to the chair, thick rope wrapped tightly around her body. She gritted her teeth, trying to break free, but the bindings were too tight and her arms were pinned behind her.

After nearly ten minutes of struggling and using all her energy, she sagged in the chair.

She had no idea how much time had passed.

Or if Takeshi was alive.

“Hello!” she called out.

But the only response was the tent flap rustling in the wind.

She scanned the small space, trying to find anything that could be of use. Her eyes widened when she spotted her backpack placed at the edge of the tent. It was only three feet away.

Her knife might still be in there.

She twisted her arms, trying to slither out of the rope, but her wrists were tied to the point of cutting off circulation.

But the backpack kept taunting her, forcing her to keep trying.