Page 66 of My Vigilante Valentine

The Valentine Villain tilted his head, studying us with an eerie stillness that made my skin crawl.

But there was also this weird smell in the air now. I sniffed. Was that fear? Was I seriously smelling fear wafting off me? No. That couldn’t be a thing.

I’m spinning out.

Then, without warning, The Villain lunged.

The knife in his hand caught the streetlight, glinting wickedly as it sliced through the air where Jax had been standing a split second before.

This clearly angered the bad guy because he lunged again.

But Jax was faster, dodging and weaving in that inhumanly scary way I’d witnessed before.

Only, as soon as Jax’s opponent decided to lunge for me instead of him, faking him out so he’d be distracted, his speed somehow wasn’t enough. The Villain used my presence to hisadvantage, and every time he got too close to me, Jax would have to adjust his position, leaving himself open.

But was Jax actually moving slower? Could he actually be getting worn out?

Or was it because, this time, he was trying to protect me?

I kept trying to back away without fully leaving him. I couldn’t bring myself to do that, but I also knew I needed to give Jax the space he needed.

But then, my heel caught on an uneven section of pavement, and I went down.

Hard.

The breath shot out of my lungs in an odd, strangled noise as the cold concrete met the base of my spine.

The Villain’s head snapped toward me at the sound, and Jax used that moment to strike.

But something was wrong.

Jax’s movements weren’t as fluid as usual. Was he holding back, trying to keep himself between me and danger instead of unleashing his full capabilities?

I hated it, and I was about to scream at him to stop messing around anddo his thing.

And then it happened.

I cried out in horror as The Villain’s knife slashed across Jax’s side, and something inside of me tore.

Painfully—like I was feeling his wound, too.

“Jax!”

He growled—actually growled—and kicked the Villain right in the chest—a full-onThis is Sparta!kind of kick.

The Villain flew backward in a wide arc, and then, wasting zero precious moments to look back, Jax grabbed my hand in an iron grip and tugged.

“We need to get out of here,” he bit out through gritted teeth as he pulled me away. “I’ll find another way to get him when I’m not worried about you getting hurt too.”

And then we were nothing more than a blur as he ran, pressing me into his side with my feet completely off the ground.

Oh, okay, so now he turns up the speed.

When he slowed, lowering me to my feet to let me run at his side—at my pace, not his—and as the world came back into focus, I realized we were approaching my building.

The sound of our footsteps echoed as we sprinted down the street. Jax’s hand never left mine, pulling me along like he’d rather die than let go.

Which was an all-too-real possibility, considering his other hand was wrapped around his torso, pressed against a bloody knife wound to staunch the flow.

---