Page 101 of My Vigilante Valentine

I shrugged, ignoring the way my heart seemed to gain another crack with every second I spent with this anti-love killer. “I’m not most people.”

“No.” He crouched in front of me. “You’re not. And that, sweet child of the Moon, is why you’re perfect.”

“Child of the Moon?”I snorted, unable to help myself. “Sir, be for real right now. Just call me Luna without making it weird, please.”

His slow smile was the last thing I expected. “See?Perfect.”

Gulping, I vowed to cut down on the snark—fear or no fear. “Perfect for what?”

“For breaking him.”

The words hit me like a slap, but I internally begged myself to stay calm.

To think.

He couldn’t mean…

But, if he did, why?

“Sorry, to break who?” I whispered.

His smile was awful. “Jax Thorne. Your vigilante boyfriend. The man who thinks he can save this city from itself.”

“And you want to what? Stop him?”

“I want to teach him a lesson.” He stood, pacing in front of me. “About love. About weakness. About how caring for someone makes you vulnerable.”

I almost laughed. “Seriously? That’s your classic villain motivation story? You’re really just not a fan of love?”

“Love is a lie. A chemical reaction that makes us weak. Makes us stupid. Makes us...” He broke off, jaw tight.

But I heard it. There was a story behind his story, and whatever it was, I knew he must have lost someone. Someone he loved, and the loss must have been so great that it’d turned him intothis.

“What matters is that he’ll come for you,” he said after he’d collected himself again. “And when he does?”

“Let me guess—it’s a trap?”

“Perfect, as usual.” He smiled again. This time, it reached his eyes, and that was somehow even worse. “But don’t worry. Youwon’t be alone for long. I left him a message. A Valentine, if you will.”

My stomach turned at the thought of what that “Valentine” might look like.

But instead of showing fear, I decided to step into my strength. To be exactly who I was—exactly who Jaxlovedme for being.

The girl who joked during bank robberies, flirted with vigilantes, and yes… had absolutely sounded too peppy while preparing to face off against a serial killer this afternoon.

“Quick question,” I said, tilting my head. “Did you practice that speech in the mirror? Because it fell a little flat in places. I have notes, if you want them.”

His expression darkened. “You think this is a game?”

“No. I think it’s sad.” The words came out against my will, but I kept going, needing to trust my rambling self. “Something happened to you, didn’t it? You lost someone important? And instead of dealing with it in therapy like a normal person, you decided to hurt others?”

His hand shot out, gripping my jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re lonely.” I met his gaze, refusing to look away. “I know you’re angry. And I know that killing people won’t fix whatever’s broken inside you.”

For a moment, something flickered in those empty eyes—something almost human.

Then it was gone, replaced by cold, dead, icy fury.

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