Chapter 33 · Session Owner: External

Levi's hand closes around my throat before I even get the tape knotted.

"Turn it off, Ortega." His thumb digs under my jaw. "Now."

"Turn what off. I'm not the one who built this room."

"You're the one standing next to the panel."

He shoves me back into the gurney rail. Metal bites my spine. I don't go down — I plant a boot against the frame and drive forward, and we hit bone-on-bone, his sternum against my collarbone, hard enough that the wound under my hand tears a fresh line of red through the gauze.

"You want to bleed through the wrap," I say, low, right against his ear, "keep doing that."

"I want that camera dark."

"Not mine to kill."

His grip doesn't loosen. If anything it tightens, four fingers pressing pulse points like he's trying to choke the words out of me instead of air. I let my weight drop into him — full gravity pin, both boots planted, no room between us for either of us to swing clean —