Page 13 of My Vigilante Valentine

Maybe he wasn’t a white hat hacker like Chris, but ablackhat—the very internet boogiemen that Chris worked so tirelessly to out-code.

If so, the magic of my one-sided crush on him would surely be ruined.

Yeah, sticking to the surface-level stuff was a much safer plan than getting to know him for real.

After all, he was very nice to look at. And I knew that because—unlike with The Blade—I could actually see his face.

4

annoyingly decent

I dropped to the floor, palms pressing into the cold wood as I started another round of push-ups. Faster this time. Harder.

One. Two. Three…

The burn in my muscles felt good, but unwelcome images slipped through anyway.

Specifically, a face.

Not anyone from my latest attempt at cleaning up this city, though that would’ve made more sense.

No, instead, it washers—Luna.

Someone who was slowly turning out to be my Kryptonite, even though my strength, speed, and reflexes weren’t exactly Superman-level. They had just been…enhancedever since the mission that had blown up my life.

Literally.

I gritted my teeth and pushed harder.

Twenty-five. Twenty-six.

Her laugh snuck in next—warm and irritatingly effective at getting under my skin.

She’d already taken up too much space in my head. And yet, here she was again.

Over it, I flipped onto my back, staring at the ceiling like I’d find some answers there.

I didn’t.

But at least the ceiling didn’t judge me for being unable to banish this distraction. I was just lucky it hadn’t been an issue last night.

I’d been doing a sweep of the streets from the rooftops above when I’d come up on a familiar scene—two guys with more ego than brains cornering some poor sap in an alley.

Knife to the ribs, demands for a wallet, the whole cliché package.

I’d dropped to the ground—too fast for them to react and faster than any human should. One second, they were doing their thing, and the next, they were zip-tied and dazed.

The victim had bolted as soon as he’d seen an opening, of course.

They always did.

In the end, I’d left the thugs gift-wrapped for the cops, called it in anonymously, and then faded back into the shadows.

Just another routine night on the job.

Not that operating outside the law for no pay was a job, so it was a good thing I pulled in some decent money from the VA. I’d been medically separated from the Marines after the mission that changed everything, which meant I was set for life.

Having to live in the shadows like a freak, always wary of being turned into a lab rat?

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