Chapter 23 – The Room With No Windows
1068 Words
The second Lucas shoved Evelyn inside the narrow concrete room, the world outside collapsed into muffled gunshots and distant shouting. The metal door slammed shut behind them, the lock clicking hard like a final verdict.
Evelyn staggered forward, her breath trembling.
There were no windows, no vents big enough to crawl through—just four cold walls and a single ceiling lamp flickering like it, too, was afraid.
Lucas stood with his back pressed to the door, chest rising and falling in sharp, pained breaths. Blood dripped from his shoulder, staining the dusty floor.
“Lucas—you’re bleeding.” Her voice cracked.
He didn’t move at first. He just listened, head turned toward the hallway, muscles coiled like a trapped animal ready to fight its way out.
Only when the footsteps vanished did something in him loosen.
Finally, he exhaled. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” Evelyn rushed to him, grabbing his arm. The heat of his blood soaked her palm instantly. “You can’t just pretend this is fine!”
Lucas looked down at her hand, at the panic in her eyes, and something fragile flickered across his expression—quickly smothered, as if vulnerability itself could get them killed.
“I’ve had worse,” he murmured.
But the slight shake in his fingers betrayed him.
He pushed away from the door and sat down on the old metal table in the center of the room. The surface groaned beneath his weight, dust scattering like powdered bone.
Evelyn pulled the emergency kit from the shelf and dropped to her knees beside him.
When she peeled back his jacket, her breath hitched.
The bullet had grazed deep, carving a burning red line across his skin.
“Your hand is shaking,” she whispered.
Lucas lifted his eyes to hers.
And for the first time, he didn’t hide.
“It’s not the pain,” he said quietly.
“It’s fear.”
Evelyn froze, stunned. “…Fear of what?”
Lucas swallowed, jaw tightening as if the truth cost him more than the wound.
“Fear of seeing you hurt again.”
A beat.
“Fear of losing you.”
Her heart stopped.
The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, like a live wire stretching between them.
“Lucas…” She tried to speak, but no sound came out.
“Don’t,” he said softly. “Let me finish.”
He covered her hand with his, warmth burning against her skin. Even injured, he held her with disarming gentleness—like she was something precious, something breakable.
“When they put a gun to your head at the training center…” Lucas’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I nearly tore the whole place apart.”
Evelyn felt breathless, shaken to her core.
“For years I told myself I was a weapon,” he said bitterly. “A machine. Someone who shouldn’t feel anything.”
He met her eyes, and this time he didn’t look away.
“Then you happened.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
Lucas gave a small, hollow laugh. “The irony? The thing they tried to beat out of me is the only thing keeping me alive right now.”
Evelyn reached for the wound again, but he caught her wrist—not to stop her, but to steady himself.
“Lucas,” she whispered, “you don’t have to protect me alone.”
He shook his head. “Yes, I do.”
That answer made something inside her twist.
Evelyn leaned closer, threading the bandage carefully under his arm.
“You keep saying that,” she murmured, “but you never tell me why.”
His breath hitched.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then—
“When they took me,” Lucas said slowly, “I wasn’t alone.”
Evelyn’s hands froze mid-bandage.
He looked at her, eyes shadowed. “They didn’t just make soldiers. They collected leverage.”
“…Leverage?”
Lucas nodded once. “Families. Friends. Anyone a recruit cared about. They identified emotional weaknesses and used them as… binding points.”
Evelyn’s stomach dropped. “Lucas—what are you saying?”
His voice was barely audible.
“They took someone from me. Someone I couldn’t protect.”
She felt the world tilt.
“Who?”
Lucas closed his eyes, jaw tensing until a vein pulsed at his temple.
“My younger brother.”
Evelyn’s breath hitched sharply. “Lucas… I didn’t know.”
“No one knows.” His voice cracked—just once. “Because I couldn’t save him. And they made sure I never forget that.”
Her heart splintered.
Not because of the story—
but because Lucas Hale, the man who stared down gunfire without blinking, was trembling.
She reached up, gently touching his face. “None of that was your fault.”
“You don’t understand.” His eyes burned as he held her wrist. “You can’t die because of me. I can’t fail again.”
Evelyn’s chest ached.
“Look at me,” she whispered.
Reluctantly, he did.
“You haven’t failed. Not once. I’m here, Lucas. Alive. Because of you.”
His breath unsteady, Lucas leaned forward, their foreheads nearly touching. The space between them crackled with the kind of tension no gunfire could drown out.
But before either of them could speak—
A metallic click echoed from outside the door.
Lucas’s body snapped rigid.
Evelyn tightened her grip on his arm. “They found us?”
“No.” Lucas slid off the table, pulling her behind him. “Just one.”
“One? Who—?”
A shadow moved under the doorframe.
Then a voice, low and familiar, slipped through the cracks.
“Lucas Hale. Always hiding your pets in the same places.”
Evelyn stiffened.
Lucas went pale.
“That’s impossible,” he whispered, barely breathing.
The man outside chuckled. “Open the door, Hale. Or I’ll open it for you.”
Lucas’s hand found Evelyn’s, squeezing once—
not reassurance, but warning.
“Evelyn,” he whispered, “whatever happens, do not let go of me.”
And just as the door handle began to turn—
Lucas pulled her behind the heavy table, bracing his body between her and the threat.
The lock snapped.
The door swung open.
And the past Lucas thought he’d buried stepped inside.
- Writer
