Page 100 of My Vigilante Valentine

But something about it was different, and brief as it was, my training kicked in. I turned, ready to fight—or even to run. Only before I could even blink, something sharp pricked my neck.

I hadn’t even stood a chance.

The world tilted sideways, and my last coherent thought was that Jax was going to kill me for not staying with Chris.

And then, everything went black.

23

jovial pain in the butt

I woke to cold concrete and the smell of rust.

My head felt stuffed with cotton, but Jax’s training… Even just thinking about it had me alert and paying attention, like he was here with me and telling me to do so.

Stay still.

Assess the situation.

Control your breathing.

Through my lashes, I could make out industrial lights hanging from a high ceiling. A warehouse, maybe? The air was damp and cold, with that musty smell old buildings get when they’ve been empty too long.

I was lying on my side, hands zip-tied behind my back, and another set of zip-ties secured my ankles.

Okay…

I knew he’d been taking notes on The Blade’s methods, but seeing the zip ties on me hit different.

And speaking of The Blade...

Jax would come for me. That wasn’t even a question. But I couldn’t just wait around to be rescued, and I had a few new tools that I could use to help with that.

I was part of this team for a reason, right?

Carefully, I tested the zip ties. They were tight but not cutting off circulation. And if?—

“I know you’re awake.”

The voice came from behind me—male, cultured, with an edge of something I couldn’t quite place.

“Well, that’s awkward,” I said, somehow keeping my voice steady. “Here I was, trying to be sneaky.”

A low, almost whimsical chuckle. “You’re not afraid.”

“Oh, I definitely am.” I managed to push myself into a sitting position, grateful for all those core exercises I’d been doing since I began hanging out with a stupidly ripped vigilante. “But I cope with fear through inappropriate humor. Rest assured, the wittier I am tonight, the more terrified you’ll know I am.”

Footsteps approached, and then he was there—The Valentine Villain himself.

And, while he had his horrible mask in his hand as my clue as to who he was, the man that usually hid behind it?

He was the guy from the restaurant, after all. The one who was a ghost and couldn’t be tracked down using facial recognition.

And, just as I remembered him from the restaurant, he was just an ordinary man who wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.

But his eyes... up close? They were something else. Cold. Empty in a way that made my skin crawl.

“Interesting,” he said, studying me like I was a bug under a microscope. “Most people start begging right away. There are at least a few tears by now. Sometimes, both.”

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