Page 18 of Dark Reunion

Carlos stepped around the desk, adjusting his cufflinks with lazy precision. “Still so predictable, Mercurio. All fire. No patience. No thought. You just…act. But that is okay, we will teach you patience.”

Dean strained against the hold, his teeth bared. “I’ll kill you.”

Carlos crouched, close enough that Dean’s instincts screamed for him to step back, but he couldn’t. His smirk was laced with poison. “Of course you will try. It is your nature. But you forget…nature can be caged.”

He straightened, nodding once. “Take him to isolation.”

The guards hauled Dean upright, half-dragging him from the office. He snarled, trying to wrench himself free, but fists slammed into his ribs, and boots caught his shins. They dragged him down stone corridors, through iron gates, until the air grew damp and the light disappeared.

A heavy door clanged open and the guards shoved him inside and slammed the door shut.

Darkness swallowed him.

The cell stank of mildew, rust, and old death. The walls were cold and slick with moisture. A single chain hung from the ceiling, rattling as the door’s lock clicked home.

Dean staggered to his feet, chest heaving. The silence was crushing, broken only by his own ragged breaths.

The little slot in the door opened and his father peered in at him. Even though Dean could only see his eyes, he could feel the smirk. “You ran to be free, but my son…you were serving me.”

“Fucking prick,” Dean growled. His father’s laughed as he slammed the slot shut.

Dean pressed his palms to the wall, the rough stone biting his skin. His mind spun to Yasmine, to the children. Alone, upstairs, no guards between them and Carlos, if he chose to twist the knife deeper. The thought gutted him.

He sank to his knees. Fists pressed to his temples.

The darkness closed in, thick and suffocating. The sound of helicopter blades loud in his ears as his mind swirled and was pulled under by the feelings of guilt and grief. They all died, and it was all his fault.

For the first time in years, Dean let the fear in. Not for himself, but for his family, and the men and women serving his father that had no idea.

“Fuck…I need to stop him,” Dean whispered to the darkness.