These Violent Delights

Chapter 39: Chaos.

Kylo flicked his cold eyes up and down the woman's body.

She looked petite but strong, confident as she held a blaster aimed at his head. He took a single step closer. She took a wide step back. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it. She was young, with dark skin, short, curly hair and gentle eyes almost too big for her face. With a closer look at her forest-green jacket, he caught the enamel emblem pinned onto her breast pocket, and his hostility came back to him at full force.

"So, Luke was lying," he said through gritted teeth, heart palpitations thudding in his chest. "The Resistance is here."

The woman spat at her feet. "Fuck the Resistance. I left them the second they abandoned my best friend. But I didn't abandon her." Frantic eyes looked him up and down. "Tell me where she is, now."

Kylo knew exactly who she was talking about, but he kept his voice light and taunting. "Where is who?"

"Don't fuck with me, asshole," she shot back, keeping the blaster aimed at his face with trembling hands. "I saw you with her earlier. And I know you don't ever leave her alone." Kylo could hear her swallow from where he was standing. She lowered her voice, pain evident on her face. "Am I too late? Did you already kill her?"

He took a powerful step in her direction. "You mean, my prisoner?"

She stumbled back. "No," she seethed, following up by saying Kitten's real name. "Where is she?"

"In the cantina," he said, gesturing a hand behind him. "Safe and sound."

"Yeah, because she's not with you," she hissed, shoving the weapon forward. "Let her go."

He raised a brow. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

She stepped back, aiming the blaster down at his chest. "I will shoot. I swear on my life, I will shoot."

"Aw," Kylo mocked, letting a beat pass. "Aren't you just adorable?"

Her face crumpled in confusion, but before she could speak again, Kylo flashed out a hand, ripping the blaster from her grasp. She yelped, stumbling back and cursing as he shoved her weapon into his belt and closed in on her.

Eyes wide, she tried to step away, but Kylo put a hand over her face. "Do not move." Her whole body froze except her chest, juddering with each panicked breath. With his gloved fingers twisting in her face, he tore into her mind. "Who are you? Why are you here? Where are the others?"

It hit him immediately—this was Zeven. He had seen her in Kitten's memories before, just as the visions confirmed as he rummaged through her best friend's mind right now. He could feel the bond between them, always laughing and talking and drinking. Fighting together, training together on their base on D'Qar. Then came the memories of that night on Tatooine at Wor Groman's Cantina. Blood gushing from the alien's belly as Kitten rolled her eyes at Zeven's and Drox's reprimand. The sound of TIE-fighters. Stormtroopers. Running. Crying, screaming, kicking, trying to save her best friend as Drox pulled her away, shutting the ramp and abandoning Kitten.

"I've seen enough," Kylo spat, ripping his hand away from her face. "Where is Drox? Where is he?"

"Drox doesn't give a shit about anyone but himself," she retorted. "I'm the only one here."

Kylo's Force-hold dissipated as he lashed out and grabbed her shoulders, spit flying from his mouth. "Where is he?"

"I don't know! I told you, I left them once they abandoned her! They labeled me a deserter but all I've been doing is tracking you," she said, nostrils flaring and chin trembling, tears flowing down her cheeks. "From Canto Bight to Hoth, I've had eyes on you, but here, right now, is the only time your knights haven't been in the way."

His eyes flickered across Zeven's face. "Why?"

"Because you stole her!" she exploded, violently throwing her hands in the air. "Because she belongs with us, back home. Not with you, a creature in a mask!"

"She belongs with me," he flared, letting go of her shoulders and pushing her back, sending her ass-first into a puddle. Zeven inched back, but he matched her every move, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders as he followed her. "And my patience is at an end. Stand up."

For a brief moment, her panic froze her in place. But then she scrambled to her feet and tried to run away. It agitated him, it made him irrationally irate. How dare this insignificant little Resistance fighter believe she can escape me?

With a blindingly-fast outreach of his hand, Kylo Force-propelled Zeven to him. Her panicked, distorted screams fueled him as her back collided with his chest. He encased his arms around her and she thrashed to rip free, but he kept her pinned against his torso with ease, bowing his head to whisper in her ear.

"Any last words?" he cooed, remaining unmovable as she flailed against him. He felt the fear and adrenaline spike in her veins, and Kylo closed his eyes, pulling in a deep inhale. He had been right. Killing her was exactly what he needed right now.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you."

Kylo sounded bored. "How original."

With the back of Zeven's head pressing into his chest, he shot a hand to her throat, gripping her slender neck to squeeze her windpipe. He could have used his lightsaber, or the Force, or an array of hands-off methods to end her trivial, pathetic life. But no. The rage inside Kylo urged him to make this as personal as possible. He wanted to feel the life drain from her. Feel her throat flutter beneath his palm as she tried to suck down air. Feel her heartbeat grow fainter and fainter as he denied her of oxygen. Because right now, the Supreme Leader was hurting. And he needed to make someone else hurt, too.

Zeven's hands flew to his as she started choking, desperately trying to pry his fingers off of her. "Kuh-kuh—" she spluttered, followed by a mostly-incoherent groan that sounded like his prisoner's name.

He leaned in so close, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, speaking to her with an ice-cold tone full of malice. "What was that?"

When he eased off her throat, she greedily sucked down air before speaking. "Kill me, her best friend," she panted, pausing to gasp, "and she will fucking hate you forever."

Kylo stilled, his entire body going rigid. All too aware that he was hesitating, like a fool, for the second time tonight. But not because he cared about Zeven. He couldn't care less about taking her life. He was looking forward to it. And yet, he couldn't move.

She will hate you forever.

She was right. He hated it but knew she was right. Kitten might not identify with the Resistance anymore, but she was loyal to her best friend—how could he not have seen this? His unyielding pursuit to minimize the blow of his own failures had clouded his judgment. Zeven was the only person that cared enough to look for her. If he took that away from her, all the progress they had made since her capture would fly out the fucking blast doors. Kylo loosened his grip and shoved her off of him. Fuck.

Zeven fell to the ground, scrambling to put distance between them before pivoting to look back at him. Thick waves of confusion rolled off her as a line appeared between her brows, wincing as she rubbed at her throat. "I..." She had to stop to cough, her stunned eyes roaming around the forest before landing on him again. "You spared my life."

"Not for your sake," Kylo said, voice low and dangerous as he flashed her one last glare of detest. Fists flexing by his side, he turned away as he gave her a final demand. "Do not come looking for her again."

He heard Zeven scutter to her feet behind him, but he didn't look back. If he did, he would change his mind, and he couldn't do that to Kitten. No. He needed her. He needed her now. To see her, to hold her. She would ask where he'd been, and he'd tell her the truth, just like an ally. He'd tell her Luke had come, trying to manipulate Kylo again by using her as a pawn, spewing nonsense about a crystal when it was really a dark Force device to drive him fucking insane again.

She would understand. Of course she would understand. He had told her what Luke did to him, how he failed him. She wouldn't blame the Supreme Leader for his moment of weakness that led to the Jedi's escape. She would want to helphim. And for the first time ever, Kylo would be receptive to that help. Because it came from her, the one person that understood him, the one person who loved him—even though she wasn't ready to admit that quite yet.

Love. Determination settled into his bones as he strode through the forest. The encounter with his uncle had reminded him that no matter the precautions he took, enemies were lurking in every corner waiting to pounce. He couldn't risk wasting any more time with Kitten. He would brief her on what happened, then he would tell her the truth—he knew how she felt about him, and he felt the same way. Love, love, love. The thought propelled him forward, taking him far away from his failures, his—

"Wait, wait!" Zeven yelled, her boots crunching across the dirt as she followed him. "Please, wait!"

Agitation fanned through him as he kept moving. He had somewhere to be. "My knights are hunting for Resistance fighters now. I suggest leaving before they find you."

Idiotically, she didn't run for her life. Instead, she tried to plead with him. "I understand that you believe you are caring for her. But—"

A deafening boom cut Zeven off. Kylo skidded to a stop, crouching as he turned his head from side to side, scanning the sky for threats above the darkening forest. After Luke's escape, he had anticipated an ambush from the Resistance, but there were no fighters in the air. His pulse pounded when he noticed smoke pouring through the trees up ahead, along with faint, panicked shouts.

"Oh shit, that sounds like it's coming from the cantina," Zeven said, running past him and looking back toward Black Spire Outpost. Her nervous eyes locked with his face. "Where is she? Is that really where you left her?"

Kylo broke out into a sprint. He had never moved so fast in his life as he leapt over fallen tree branches, rocks, and the stream, his boots squelching in the mud. He was just a blur as he ravaged through the forest, his robes snagging onto a thorn bush and ripping off, but he barely noticed. He couldn't think about it; he couldn't think about anything but the demand he gave Kitten before he left her.

"You will not move from this seat."

A pained rush of air blew through his lips. No, no, no. The smoke sat heavily throughout downtown, invading his airways as he finally took his last lunge out of the trees. It was so strong he could taste it on his tongue, bitter and burnt and ridden with chemicals as the pavement screamed beneath his boots. He was so close now. He made it past Salju's garage and the Den of Antiquities and was now almost to Merchant's Row, and next up would be Oga's Cantina.

I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming.

Kylo plowed through the crowds in his way, sending them sprawling to the ground with cries and yelps. He didn't feel the impact of his body colliding with theirs. All he could feel was his own panic propelling him forward, and now as he got closer, he could sense something else pouring out of that cantina besides just smoke—her panic.

Regret seared into his chest cavity. No, no, no, no.

So close. He was almost there as he watched black fumes bleed out of the arched entrance, sending billows of dark clouds rolling up into the sky. People poured out of the bar, coughing and sputtering for air as Stormtroopers shouted orders, demanding they made way for the Supreme Leader. He could see Pryde hurrying in his direction, trying to flag him down, but Kylo didn't stop, barreling straight through the ugly bartender that was just about to light a cigarette. The alien's body hitting the pavement was the last thing he heard before bolting inside the cantina.

The just-lively bar was now hot, dark, and smothering. Orange flames licked at the booths along the walls as vicious smoke swirled upward to hang in the air. And through it all, his prisoner sat in the booth he left her at, her arms over her head as she tried to crouch down. No, no, no.

Kylo ran to her and thrust his hand out across the table. "Kitten! Take my hand!"

She could only sputter. "I, I can't!"

"Fuck!" he shouted in panic, "you can move, you can move from this seat!"

To his left, part of the ceiling collapsed in the back of the room. For a brief, foolish moment, he thought the debris smothered part of the fire, but it only fed the flames, making them burn brighter and stronger. He cussed, crouching down as a gush of vapors came rolling toward them. He tried to take a deep breath but couldn't. All that filled his lungs were smoke and ash, just as they filled her lungs.

A wall of hysteria threatened to derail him. He could hear her coughing, but couldn't see her. The smoke was too dense. The flames were so close now. The heat of the fire was almost too much. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, pouring down into his eyes as he imagined failing her and living a life without her. No, no, no.

With a flick of his wrist, the table tore to the right, flying across the room and crashing into the bar. Bottles of liquor shattered, sending a flood of alcohol dripping along the floors right toward the flames. The hysteria only amplified within him, bubbling in his gut as he blindly lurched forward to search for Kitten. When he felt her arms reaching for him, too, he yanked her to him, his fingers digging into her skin as he picked her up in his arms to cradle her close.

Her voice was faint as she said his name, her grasp on him weak. "Kylo."

No, no, no. One hand clutching her waist, the other positioned under her knees, Kylo ran for their lives. Time slowed down. Even though he was sprinting, every step he took felt slow, sluggish. Like it wouldn't be enough. Like his feet were covered in tar. Like they would die here, in this sticky fucking cantina, while the ugly bartender and his stupid fucking wart would live to see another day.

Just before he made it to the exit, a wave of heat rushed into him from behind, and Kylo knew the alcohol had fueled the flames into a final consumptive combustion. He yelled, putting everything he had into the last monumental step he took out of the cantina. Half of his momentum came from the Force, and the other half came from the explosion inside, propelling them forward and crashing into the ground.

He grunted, she gasped as they collided with the pavement. He tried to lessen the impact of their fall, but in his haste to escape the flames, it wasn't enough. Her breaths were pained and heavy as she pulled them through her lips, her body shaking under his. He hurried to roll off her, getting on his knees and ripping off his soiled gloves. Frantically, he tried to wipe the soot off her face.

"Kitten," Kylo rasped between coughs, "you're okay, you're okay." But she wasn't okay. She was dying. He could feel it as she choked on the fumes lingering in her lungs, her body wracking with each throaty wheeze. He whipped his head up, eyes darting rapidly around the people standing by. "Medic! We need a medic!"

He heard a Stormtrooper shout in response to him, but the bang of another explosion cut them off. Within seconds the entire building collapsed, sending a cloud of debris and smoke right at them. Kylo didn't have the time to run. Pivoting to cover Kitten's body with his, he hovered over her, curling his arm around her head and dipping his face to hers to protect her. He laid there for only moments, but it felt like a lifetime, and the next chunk of time passed in fragments. More explosions. Yelling, shouting, crying. People ran past them, over them. It was chaos. All around them. And for the first time since he was a little boy, Kylo felt helpless.

He picked her up and ran. Away from the smoke, away from the fire, away from the chaos. But Kitten was silent in his arms, her heartbeat slowing. He was losing her.

No, no, no. "Stay with me, Kitten," he begged, holding her tightly as he swiveled his head, frantic to find help. He was in Merchant Row, but he couldn't see a healing stall—he couldn't see anyone for that matter. All stores were abandoned as the smoke filtered in from down the street.

Kylo began to panic. He needed to find a solution. He could try to locate the Night Buzzard from here and leave, bringing her to the Finalizer's medbay, but there wasn't enough time. He could return to the cantina, near where Pryde was stationed, but it wasn't standard for recruitment centers to have medical supplies. He couldn't risk bringing her back into the smoke if there wasn't a guarantee she would survive. But he couldn't do nothing either. She needed a doctor, and she needed one now. Every second he didn't act was failing her.

The Supreme Leader broke down. "Help me! Help her!" he screamed, throat raw and burning as he spun around, holding her limp body in his arms. "Please, somebody, help her!"

Nothing. Nobody was near him. Kylo moved forward, silently praying to the gods in his head. He hadn't prayed since he was a child, and he didn't believe in a higher power besides the Force, but he was desperate. He didn't know what to do. Once he recognized a path he knew would lead to his ship, he just kept going, chanting in his mind. Please, please, please. He looked down at Kitten and cursed. She was barely breathing. He almost collapsed from grief.

But as if someone had finally answered his pleas, the familiar, composed voice of Allegiant General Pryde rang out from behind him. "Supreme Leader, follow me. I can assist."