My Vigilante Valentine

Chapter 16

16

neither was i

Luna’s voice shook as she stared at the first aid kit in her hands. “I’m not sure if I can do this. Should I call 911?”

The question jolted me from my pain-induced haze. “No hospitals.”

She blinked, and for the first time since the attack, a small, incredulous laugh escaped her lips. The smile didn’t last long before fading, but oddly… seeing that smile return seemed to right something inside me that I hadn’t realized was off-kilter.

“Of course,” she said, nodding frenetically, “because going to a hospital with a knife wound would require admitting that you got stabbed by a serial killer while pretending to be my boyfriend.”

I couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at my lips. “I wasn’t stabbed. It’s just a graze.”

She looked pointedly at where I still held my side. At the blood that coated my hand as I held back the flow.

“Either way… we don’t want the media attention,” I said, trying to draw her eyes.

“It’s not like we’d tell them that you’re The Blade…” She trailed off, biting her lip as if thinking it through. “Oh, you mean because we’re the first couple to survive an attack from this guy.”

I nodded, then watched as she processed that. Relief, guilt, and just a hint of anger danced across her face, and then the whole thing seemed to converge into steady determination.

She squared her shoulders and held up the kit. “Okay, then. Let’s do this.”

I couldn’t look away from her if I tried.

The way she bit her lip? Her new posture as she took charge of her spinning thoughts in favor of helping me?

Too much.

Also, not enough.

Knowing I needed to allow her access to the wound, I took off my suit jacket and tossed it on a kitchen chair. Then, I started unbuttoning my shirt. It meant using two hands, and each movement sent sharp stabs of pain through my left side. The fabric sticking to my skin where the blood had dried didn’t help matters.

I could’ve asked her to help me with the buttons, but… no. This was already not how I’d imagined my first time undressing in front of Luna, and that would only make it worse.

Not that I’d imagined that. Much.

I peeled the ruined shirt away with a grimace, letting it fall to the floor. I tried not to acknowledge how exposed I felt—and not just physically. The scars that marked my chest and abs revealed so much of what I’d been through, and it wasn’t pretty.

She’d heard there was an explosion, but seeing the aftermath?

I wasn’t sure I was ready to know how that would land for her.

And then, Luna made a sound somewhere between a squeak and a gasp, and I risked looking up.

Her eyes were impossibly wide, fixed on my chest. Then tracked lower.

Only… she wasn’t horrified.

In fact, it was a little like she’d stumbled into a museum and found a masterpiece she wasn’t prepared to see.

Okay. I’d take that.

“Oh. Wow. Yep.” She blinked rapidly, her hands visibly tightening on the first aid kit. “That’s... a lot of muscles. Like, unfairly a lot. Do you... do you flex in the mirror just for fun? Because if I looked like that, I totally would. Not that I’m picturing you flexing or anything like that. I’m just used to seeing you in more clothes. Which you’re not wearing now. Obviously .”

Her rambling was adorable, and despite the literal pain in my side, I had to fight back a smile.

The way her cheeks flushed as she realized what she was saying, how her eyes darted between my face and my chest like she couldn’t decide which was the safer option—it was exactly the kind of bedlam I’d come to expect from Luna Wilde. Even in this desperate situation.

And I loved it.

Even better? Not a single word of that had anything to do with my scars.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore how her obvious appreciation made me feel. “Focus, Menace. Bleeding out here.”

“Nope, you will not do that, Jax Thorne.” She grabbed an antiseptic wipe, her fingers trembling slightly.

I could do this myself. I’d done it before—more times than I cared to count. But something about letting her do it anyway—about watching her care —made me feel…

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

Didn’t matter.

She dabbed at the wound with the gentlest touch I’d ever felt, biting her lip in concentration.

“Like this?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, just like that,” I said, and wow , my voice should not have sounded like that.

I needed to focus. I was losing too much blood, and she was flustered and distracting and entirely too close.

After a minute, she reached for the gauze.

“Hang on,” I said, deciding this part I would do myself. I grabbed the suture kit from the box. “I need stitches.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Wait, what? You just happen to have sutures in your first aid kit? What kind of psychopath are you?”

I smirked, despite everything. “The prepared kind.”

“Jax, no—you’re not serious.”

“Completely serious.” I threaded the needle, ignoring the panicked little noise she.

“This is actually the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” she whispered.

I bit down, starting the first stitch.

I didn’t even flinch.

Meanwhile, she flinched enough for both of us. “You’re actually doing this? Like, right now? To yourself?”

“Yes, Luna.”

She covered her face with both hands. “I can’t watch.”

“You’re not even the one getting stitched up.” I continued with my task, and for once, I was grateful for how distracting she could be.

“For real, though. Do normal people just sew themselves together?”

“Never said I was normal.” Almost done.

“Whatever. This is too much .”

“Then don’t watch.”

“ Of course I’m watching! ” she hissed. “What if you mess up?”

Snorting, I shook my head as I finished the last stitch. “I won’t.”

And finally, it was done.

I cut the thread, then sat back slightly, going for the gauze again.

She snatched it out of my hand. “I’ll do that part. Stop helping me help you.”

I held up my hands to let her do her thing, trying to ignore the ridiculous fondness in her expression as she did.

“You’ve done that before,” she mumbled as she secured the gauze over the now stitched-up wound.

She taped up the dressing, and I was fascinated by the way her usual chaos had settled into hyperfocus. Her bottom lip was between her teeth, and her brow was furrowed in concentration. The combo was more frightening than I cared to admit.

“Yeah, a few times,” I finally replied.

She groaned quietly as she straightened again, tossing the tape back into the kit. “I hate that for you.”

Then, before I knew what was happening, her hands were on my face. Soft fingers traced along my jaw before smoothing over my cheek, like she needed to physically confirm that I was okay.

“You’re kind of ridiculous,” she whispered.

And then I was officially done for.

I leaned in?—

But she dropped her hands, taking a step back to scan me from head to toe. “Okay, no offense, but you are covered in blood, and I feel like this is a biohazard.”

I looked down. When she was right, she was right. I was a mess.

Probably for the best. I was about to tell her goodnight so I could shower it off, but she grabbed my arm—avoiding the blood—and dragged me toward the kitchen sink.

“Wash up.”

I arched a brow. “Bossy much?”

“You’re one to talk.” She scowled. “Wash.”

I chuckled but obeyed, turning on the water and scrubbing the blood off my hands and chest. It wasn’t just a mess—it was a massacre.

Luna grabbed a dish towel, wetting it before stepping forward to help wipe the rest of the blood from my arms and side. The cleaner I got—the less evidence remained from this terrible night, the more relaxed she got.

We didn’t speak as we finished up, and I had to admit, getting a knife wound wasn’t as bad now that I had someone around to help me take care of it.

Her continued compliments, her unchecked attraction—it was all wrapped in her brand of humor, and now that I knew there was also genuine care?

This woman was slowly destroying me.

She did torturous things to my insides that had nothing to do with my injury and everything to do with how badly I wanted to pull her closer.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” she muttered, scanning for anything we’d missed, “but this gives a whole new meaning to you clean up nice .”

She glanced up as I looked down, and just like that—we were too close. Close enough that if I tilted my head just slightly…

I moved slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.

Giving her every chance to remember that this was supposed to be pretend.

That making this real could be dangerous, and getting close to me? It could get her killed.

She didn’t move away, though.

Instead, her gaze flicked to my mouth before meeting mine again, and the look in them was a green light I couldn’t ignore.

There was want there, yes, but also trust.

“Jax?” she breathed. And the way she said my name?

It unraveled me.

Reaching forward, I slid my hand along her jaw and drew her to me. The first brush of our lips was soft, but the moment she sighed against my mouth, something primal and possessive roared to life.

I angled her face to deepen the kiss, my other hand finding her waist, wishing she were closer—for more of her.

And then she melted, both hands coming up, her fingers splaying across my chest as she kissed me back with equal enthusiasm.

Her hands on my skin sent fire through my system, lighting up every corner of who I was like a torch in the dark.

And then, she slid her hands up to my shoulders, and in a move I never would’ve seen coming, she pushed me back against the fridge and trapped me there.

It was devastating in the best way, and I didn’t break the kiss, despite my shock. I just adjusted my hold so my arms were around her, pulling her closer in a steadying embrace.

But was I trying to anchor her, or myself?

“Am I hurting you?” she whispered against my lips.

Laughable.

Never.

Instead of answering, I reclaimed her mouth, this time fiercely enough to remove whatever ideas she had about me not being up for this.

And as I used my speed to turn us so she was the one pinned to the fridge, I knew without a doubt—the only thing making me weak at the moment was her .

I kept one hand on her hip as I raised the other to brace above her head, and when she gently tugged my bottom lip between her teeth?

I nearly lost what was left of my self-control.

This kiss was everything I’d tried not to want. Everything I’d told myself I couldn’t have or denied myself because getting close was a risk I couldn’t afford.

But it was happening. She was here.

And when she sighed into my mouth like she’d been waiting for it as long as I had?

My only coherent thought was that Luna Wilde officially scared me more than any villain ever could.

When we finally broke apart, I pressed my forehead against hers, completely unable to let her go. My hands found her face, thumbs tracing gently across her cheeks as I fought to breathe.

But as I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, the uncertainty I saw there caused my gut to twist. “Luna?”

She tucked her lips between her teeth and looked away.

Uh-oh.

No response? From Luna?

This was bad.

I released her instantly, stepping back to give her space.

“What are you thinking about?” I didn’t trust my voice enough for it to come out as more than a whisper.

She kept her eyes on the ground between us, but I hooked my finger under her chin, drawing her eyes back to mine.

“I’m thinking about…” She took a shaky breath, then tried again. “I’m thinking about how long I’ve wanted you to do that and how terrified I am that you’re gonna tell me it was a mistake.”

And then my heart stopped, because she was right to be worried.

Every logical part of my brain screamed for me to do just that. To push her away. To keep her safe from the darkness that followed me everywhere.

But I couldn’t.

Maybe it was selfish, but how could I do that when she was the one who held the light?

“Not a mistake,” I murmured, leaning in to brush my lips across her forehead. “And definitely not pretend anymore.”

“It never was. I was thinking about that earlier. Jax… I was never pretending.”

I swallowed hard, tucking a soft curl behind her ear as I scanned her face. “Neither was I.”

This time, when I kissed her forehead, I lingered, savoring it. Eyes closed, breathing her in. We stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other’s arms in the middle of my kitchen, neither of us speaking.

It was all I could do to stay present, to not think about what was next.

Because now?

Now I had something— someone —to lose.

And Luna Wilde wasn’t the kind of woman you could lose and then expect to come out on the other side.