Page 59 of Unexpected Heroine

Don’t I still want that?

If I do, at what cost? James in prison or worse?

No.

I can’t live with any of this on my conscience.

My thoughts skitter to a stop when he groans. Not out of frustration, but in anguish.

After taking one step in my direction, he freezes and balls his hands in front of his chest. His eyes reach for me, though.

Begging for me to come to him.

“Lettie.”

Within those two syllables is a desperate plea.

He needs my comfort and reassurance. But more than that, he’s seeking permission to hold me. To care for me. Like he’s always done.

Yet he’s giving me the choice.

Although it took him a while to connect the dots, he knows I see another side of him. He’s terrified it’ll change my feelings.

Why am I scared of him? Especially when he’s staring at me as if I’m the one who could hurt him?

Almost instantly, my fear of him evaporates.

He’d never hurt me.

All he wants is to stop those monsters from terrorizing innocent women.

Another memory crystallizes. Of the night he said the exact words his expression telegraphs now... If I’m dangerous, I wouldn’t be a danger to you.

I hesitate for another fraction of a second before I erase those fears.

Not with words.

I open my arms, hoping he’ll remove the space between us. A second later, he’s wrapped around me.

For a long time, we stay there, clinging tightly to one another.

The tension surrounding us splits my thoughts about him into divergent categories—I’m accepting him for the danger he poses while questioning everything I thought I knew about him.

I should let this go for now. Sweep it under the rug until we’re in a place to examine it. To talk it out rationally.

That’s what I should do.

Like always, I lack the ability to hold my tongue.

Lifting my head off his chest, I twist my neck to find his eyes. “You plan to hurt them.”

It’s not a question. It’s a statement. I know it. He does too.

The turquoise hue of his irises flashes with something darker. Menacing.

“What are you going to do? And how? I’m still confused. Before Monday, I thought you were a software geek. And now you’re what... a vigilante? Who are you?”

This time, he’s the one backing out of our embrace. He hangs his head, closes his eyes, and takes a long series of deep, deliberate breaths.

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