Page 46 of My Vigilante Valentine

My eyes narrowed, honing in on the movement like a heat-seeking missile.

“You should smile more,” I said, leaning in because personal space was overrated. “I like it.”

Jax cleared his throat, straightening like it might shake off the evidence of his humanity.

I tapped the phone against my palm as butterflies took flight within me. I’d never flirted like this in my life, and while sometimes it showed—looking at you, long-winded mention of his muscles—sometimes I did a pretty decent job.

Perhapsannoyingly decent, if you asked Jax.

But now that I had the phone and he’d agreed to Part One of the World’s Best Plan, I clutched it like a sacred relic, my brain already buzzing with ideas.

Maybe Chris could find something so hidden that Jax had missed it, and it would lead us right to the killer?

We were one step closer.

But before I could celebrate that fact, my own phone vibrated in the pocket of my intentionally latte-colored apron. I glanceddown, expecting some random Wilde Brew-related notification, or maybe a meme from Wednesday, who was likely champing at the bit to discuss my storage room rendezvous.

But it wasn’t a meme. It was a text from Chris.

Chris: I’m still here. Can you come out? The Valentine Villain struck again last night and they just found the victims. It was Sam and Fatima. They’re doing a candlelight vigil at the high school. We should go.

And when I registered those words—along with the headline of the article he’d attached?

I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

The Valentine Villain was a monster before I’d read this message, and I’d wanted him stopped. But this time—this attack?

It hit closer to home.

“What is it?” Jax asked, his warm hand on my forearm shocking me from my stupor.

I started to read him the headline, but the words on the screen blurred for a second, like my brain refused to process them properly. My fingers tightened around the phone, my knuckles going white.

“Luna, look at me.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the foreign tenderness in Jax’s voice, and that sweet summer child reveled in discovering a new side of him.

But as was my nature, I was capable of feeling a great many things at one time, each of them battling for front and center.

The clear winner here?Rage.

I looked up at Jax, the warmth of our easy banter evaporating like steam from a forgotten cup of coffee.

“If you don’t agree to the fake date plan,” I said through my teeth, my voice deadly calm, “I’m going to threaten to ban you from Wilde Brew again.”

And this time, I wasn’t joking.

12

don’t make me regret this

The crowd at the candlelight vigil stood in somber silence, the flickering glow of their candles casting a soft, golden light over solemn faces. The air smelled like wax and burning wicks, but beneath that, there was something heavier.

A grief that settled into the cracks of the city, lingering like an unwanted presence before seeping into the very fabric of the night.

I stayed on the fringes, my hood up and my hands buried deep in my pockets.

I wasn’t here to be seen.

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