Page 86 of My Vigilante Valentine

I glanced at my cousin. “Think he’s making that face right now?”

Chris’s mouth flattened into a thin line as he tilted his chin down, lowering his eyelids. “This face?”

“That’s the one.”

“One hundred percent.”

“In position,” Jax’s voice finally came through, low and focused now, like he waswayabove our nonsense.

Still, my heart did a little flip at the sound. Even through the comms, even with his dry delivery and oh-so-serious vibe, his voice never failed to have that effect on me.

It wasn’t fair.

“Got eyes on the loading dock—two outside, three inside. Shipment’s rolling in ten,” Chris rattled off.

“You sound like you watch a lot of cop shows,” I muttered absently as I leaned forward, studying the screens. The warehouse was dark except for a few security lights, but the night vision cameras Chris had set up gave us a clear view of everything.

Including Jax, who was currently perched on a nearby roof like some kind of sexy gargoyle.

Not that I’d ever tellhimthat.

I doubted he’d appreciate that comparison, and he’d probably scowl extra hard about it.

“Wait,” I said, pointing at one of the screens. “What’s that?”

Chris zoomed in on the area I’d gestured to. “What’s what?”

“That shadow by the side entrance. It moved.”

We watched as the shadow shifted again, and then a figure emerged—another guard we hadn’t spotted before.

“Good catch,” Chris muttered, typing rapidly. “Heads up, Blade—Menace just clocked a guy lurking at your three o’clock.”

I put up my hand, grinning as Chris gave me a high five without even looking away from his screen.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jax whispered. “Nice catch,Menace—don’t let it go to your head.”

I tried not to preen, but come on.The Bladejust complimented my observation skills while begrudgingly accepting my code name.

I was allowed to feel a little something.

“When do I get a code name?” Chris asked.

I shrugged. “I vote for Gremlin.”

He balked, but before he could reply, a truck appeared at the end of the street.

Swallowing hard, I watched as the headlights cut through the darkness. The truck moved slowly toward the warehouse, almost like it was trying not to draw attention.

Which, of course, only made it more suspicious.

“Showtime,” Chris announced. “Blade—truck rolling up from the north. Looks like our guys.”

The truck backed up to the loading dock and cut the headlights. Even from this distance, I could tell the two men who got out were armed. They looked like they belonged in a crime documentary—hunched shoulders, shifty glances.

I sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying to channel some of that unflappable calm Jax always wore like a second skin.

If he could be a human Xanax, I could at least try tofakesome chill.

---