Page 19 of My Vigilante Valentine

Then again, I wasn’t exactly the Valentine Villain’s target demographic, so… I guess that meant I could rest easy?

I shook out my arms, trying to banish the ick.

But, then, a loud crash echoed from the front of the shop, and I shot up from my chair, clutching my pen in a stabby death grip. My phone was in my other hand in a flash, fingers trembling over the emergency call screen.

And as glass crunched over heavy footprints, I bolted toward the front, instincts fueled by a cocktail of adrenaline and panic.

The front door, the one that had been securely locked minutes ago, was now wide open—with jagged shards framing the gaping hole that had apparently allowed someone to get inside.

Someonewith a ski mask and a gun.

I froze.

And then there was… Jax?

No, not Jax, the grumpy, late-night squatter with a caffeine and WiFi dependency. This was a whole different creature—one that moved with a familiar precision so swift that it made reality blur around the edges.

And then, in a show of strength and speed that I could hardly wrap my brain around, Jax had the guy disarmed and flat on his back, out cold.

I watched, open-mouthed, as he rolled the intruder to the side and yanked a zip tie from his back pocket—wait, what?—securing the guy’s wrists to one of the metal supports under the counter.

At the back of my frantic mind, something told me I’d been in this movie before.

I had a feeling the man wouldn’t put up much of a fight after that, even if he were conscious. Not with Jax looming over him like vengeance personified.

I pressed myself against the wall, still holding my pen like it would’ve won in a fight against a gun. My breath was trapped somewhere between my lungs and my throat, and…

What the heck just happened?

Jax hadn’t hesitated—not for one heartbeat. His moves were so fluid and efficient. It was clear as day that he’d done this a thousand times before.

In a hood.

And a mask.

And I am unhinged.

Silence settled over the room, thick and buzzing as I gawked at Jax, then down at the zip-tied bad guy before swinging my gaze back up.

The dots hadn’t simply connected during that epic showdown—they were neon flashing, blaring sirens in my mind.

I pointed at Jax, my finger shaking slightly. “Stop it right now.”

His gaze met mine.

“You’re him,” I croaked, then louder, “You’re The Blade!”

Jax didn’t even flinch. He stood as still as a statue, arms at his sides.

Realizing my phone was still in my hand, the screen glowing with the emergency number partially dialed, I quickly deletedthe nine and the one before sliding it into the pocket of my apron.

Along with my pen.

Didn’t need that anymore.

“Jax,” I breathed, taking a tiny step forward. “Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re not,” he grumbled.

---