Chapter 23 Twenty Three

Chapter 23 Twenty Three

Rebelle’s POV

The first thing that got to me wasn’t the ropes biting into my wrist or the dull spreading ache in my ankle or even the pounding in my head that refused to settle into anything manageable; it was the silence, the annoying silence in this empty cell.

I forced myself to stay still because reacting too fast in a situation like this was how one would lose, and I had no intention of losing, especially not in a place like this.

The air in this place felt cold, and the metallic smell made me a bit nauseous. I let my gaze move slowly, without turning my head too much, taking in the concrete walls, the single door, and the dim overhead light that flickered just enough to be irritating.

I realized there was nothing or now at I could escape.

“Comfortable?”

The voice came from my side, closer now, and I turned my head just enough to look at them, really look this time, and for a second I said nothing because I didn’t recognize the face, but there was something in the way they stood that felt familiar in a way I couldn’t quite place.

“Not really my kind of place,” I replied, my voice rough but steady, refusing to give them anything more than that.

They smiled faintly like they expected that answer. “I didn’t think it would be.”

I shifted slightly, testing the ropes binding my wrists, feeling the tension and the tightness, storing that information away because every small detail counted.

“So,” I continued, my tone dry, “you dragged me all the way here for a conversation?”

“Something like that.” He responds cheekily.

“That’s a lot of effort for someone you could’ve just talked to,” I said, my voice still rough.

Their smile widened slightly, but there was no warmth in it. “You’re not someone who listens.” He says calmly.

“Neither are you,” I shot back without hesitation.

For a moment, they just watched me, like they were deciding something, and I held their gaze without flinching because fear was a currency I wasn’t willing to spend.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He asked eventually.

“No,” I said. “But I’m guessing you’re about to tell me.” My brows slightly frowned.

“Eventually.” He says.

I rolled my eyes slightly. “Great, I love suspense,” I said dryly.

They stepped closer, crouching just enough to meet my eye level, and now I could see it clearly, the confidence and the belief that they were in control of this entire situation, and something about that irritated me more than anything else.

“You were never supposed to be part of this,” they said quietly.

Something in my chest tightened just slightly at that, but I pushed it down immediately.

“And yet, here I am.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “And now everything is complicated.”

I tilted my head a little. “Sounds like a you problem,” I said with a pointed look.

For the first time, something sharper flickered across their expression.

“You’re not afraid,” he observed.

I met their gaze evenly. “Should I be?” I said dryly.

“Yes.” They responded.

“Then you’re doing a bad job convincing me.”

Silence stretched between us for a moment; it was thick and heavy, before they stood again, stepping back slightly.

“That’s fine,” they said. “Fear comes later.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” I replied, my tone light even though deep down something already shifted because this wasn’t about me; it couldn’t be with the way he spoke to me.

I didn’t know how much time passed, but it was long enough for the tension to settle into something more dangerous, and eventually I broke the silence again because sitting quietly wasn’t going to get me out of here.

“You’re quiet,” I said.

“Thinking,” he replied after a pause.

“About?”

“You.”

I raised a brow slightly. “I’m flattered,” I said dryly

“You shouldn’t be,” he responds

“Probably not.”

Another pause settled, heavier this time.

“You’ve changed things,” he said.

“I don’t even know what ‘things’ you’re talking about,” I said

“That’s the problem.”

I leaned back slightly against the chair, ignoring the pull of the ropes against my skin. “Then explain it.”

“No.” He states firmly.

I sighed softly. “You’re really bad at this mysterious act,” I said in a bored tone.

“I’m not your enemy,” he said suddenly.

I laughed, short and dry. “You kidnapped me.”

“Temporary.”

“That’s not reassuring.” I rolled my eyes

“It’s not meant to be.”

I studied him more carefully now, my mind working through every word, every pause and every shift in their tone.

“You’re not doing this alone,” I said slowly.

There was a small, noticeable pause, but then I spoke again: “And you’re not the one in charge.” I added.

And I notice that one might have hit. I noticed his posture shift just slightly.

“Careful,” he warned.

“Or what?” I challenged. “You’ll tie me up tighter?”

There was a moment of silence, then a faint sound broke through it. It was a crash that echoed somewhere beyond the walls, and my head turned instinctively towards the door.

They froze.

Then another sound followed, closer this time: voices, movement, and something breaking.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

They didn’t answer, then, suddenly… a gunshot rang loudly.

My heart skipped so hard in my chest because I knew that sound and who it belonged to, and, despite everything, a slow smile spread across my lips.

“They found me,” I said softly.

I watched how a deep frown suddenly grew on his face as he seemed worried.

—

Outside, everything moved fast.

The door didn’t stand a chance; it burst open under force, splintering inward as Ezekiel stepped through first, his gun already raised, his movements sharp as his eyes scanned everything in seconds.

“Clear!” someone shouted behind him.

“Move,” Asa ordered, pushing forward, his presence just as dangerous and focused.

They stopped in front of another door, which was equally locked. Without hesitation, Ezekiel fired it down, and the lock shattered, allowing the door to swing open. They were there…

For a second, everything froze, then everything moved at once. Ezekiel crossed the distance in seconds, his hand wrapping around the man’s throat and slamming him hard against the wall with enough force to crack it.

“I told you,” he said, his voice low and deadly, “you’d die.”

“Wait…” the man choked.

Asa stepped in, grabbing Ezekiel’s arm before it could go further. “Not yet,” he said calmly. “We need answers.”

Ezekiel didn’t let go, but he paused with a deep frown.

“Talk,” Asa added, his tone colder now.

The man laughed weakly. “You’re too late,” he says in a bit of struggle.

My stomach tightened at that. “What does that mean?” I demanded.

His gaze flicked to me, and then he smiled, “You were never the target.” He reveals.

Silence dropped heavily into the room, then Ezekiel’s grip tightened further. “Explain.” He grits with the same deep frown.

But the man didn’t answer; instead, he moved suddenly, a blade flashing in his hand, aimed straight at me.

Everything happened too fast, but it wasn’t fast enough as a gunshot suddenly rang out.

Asa’s.

Instantly, the man dropped dead, and a heavy silence followed.

Ezekiel turned to me immediately, cutting the ropes quickly, his hands firm but careful as he pulled me free.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

“I’m fine,” I said robotically, even though my voice wasn’t as steady as I wanted it to be.

His hands lingered a second longer than necessary. “You’re not fine,” he said quietly, and that made my stomach turn in a weird way.

Asa crouched beside us as well, his gaze scanning me. “He’s right.” He says softly.

I let out a breath. “I’ve had worse.” I dismissed, but my mind was stuck on one thing: the man’s last words.

‘You were never the target.’

I looked at them both as something cold settled in my chest, “What did he mean?” I asked with a slight frown

But neither of them answered immediately, and that silence said more than words ever could because it meant they didn’t know, or worse, they did, and they didn’t want to tell me.

Ezekiel stood, pulling me up with him. “We’re leaving.” He says firmly.

But as we turned, Asa paused slightly, his gaze dropping to the body, something calculating flickering behind his eyes.

“Next time,” he murmured, “They won’t miss.” finishes.

I stilled slightly. “Next time?” I asked my eyes to open slightly.

Asa looked at me then, his expression unreadable, “They’ve already started the real game.”