My Vigilante Valentine

Chapter 21

21

wholly unprepared

I arrived at Luna’s apartment before sunrise, using the key she’d given me yesterday.

She’d handed it over so casually—like it was nothing. Just pressed it into my palm with a wink and a husky, “For vigilante emergencies only.”

That part had done something to me, but I hadn’t unpacked it yet.

Didn’t plan to.

Her living room was exactly what I expected—cozy, chaotic, but somehow… balanced. Like her.

Plants hung near every window, the shadows of their leaves throwing swirling patterns across the walls like abstract art. A coffee table overflowed with notebooks, hair accessories, and a poster covered in glittery stickers.

While she was in her room getting ready to train, I moved her furniture to make space for her to learn some basic ways to protect herself. We’d been discussing things in theory in the few days since our first field mission, but today? We’d do some stuff on the mat.

Self-defense stuff, that is.

I lifted her cluttered coffee table with ease, pushing that thought away as I set it in the doorway to her kitchenette. My movements were efficient and calculated—the way I would approach today’s training and the way I approached everything.

Well, everything except for Luna herself.

She had a tendency to make efficiency impossible, and she was great at turning my control into an illusion. Even now, I caught myself slowing as I let my gaze linger on things that had no business holding my attention.

Like the fact that her TV remote had a tracking tile taped to it like a lost sock that’d been lost too many times. Or that her plant mister was labeled “Life Support Juice.”

And now I was supposed to teach her to fight? Hand-to-hand? With an attacker?

Talking about strategies for escaping bad situations or watching videos with her showing tips for evasion were one thing.

But making it physical had a different, heavier feeling—a crushing wave of pride mixed with anxiety.

Pride because she wanted this—wanted to be stronger, smarter, harder to hurt. She refused to be a damsel… even though that was exactly what we needed her to act like in order to draw out The Valentine Villain.

And then, anxiety because it meant admitting she might actually need these skills one day. That she could face real danger—not just on this mission or the next… but because of her connection to me .

It was my new favorite fear when I used to have none.

As her bedroom door opened and as she made her way into the living room, I noticed her footsteps were lighter than usual.

Probably trying to be stealthy.

I didn’t turn around. Just waited to see what she’d do.

But then, impatience got the better of me, and I whispered, “I can hear you.”

“Dang it.” She appeared at my side, full-on pouting. “I was testing my ninja walk.”

“Your… what?”

“You know, like in the movies.” She tiptoed dramatically across the room. “Silent but deadly.”

I blinked. “That’s not what that phrase means.”

She stuck her tongue out at me, completely unfazed.

I almost told her she wasn’t silent, either—but then I actually got a good look at her.

Hair pulled back in that messy bun. Black leggings that hugged her curves. Loose tank top that was cut low enough for the sports bra she wore under it to ruin my day.

Nothing extravagant, but somehow, on her, it was… too much.

Or not enough?

Apparently, it was incredibly confusing.

I exhaled sharply. Not going there.

“Earth to Jax,” she sang, waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you checking me out or plotting escape routes?”

I blinked. “Can it be both?”

Her breezy laugh hit me square in the chest. “So, what’s first? Knife throwing? That thing where you flip someone over your shoulder? Ooh, or maybe that move you did at the warehouse where you basically turned into The Flash?”

I shook my head, smirking. “How about we start with the basics?”

She groaned like I’d suggested we read the dictionary. “Ugh. Boring.”

“Essential,” I corrected.

She flopped onto the couch, throwing herself into the cushions. “Fine. But I reserve the right to complain. Or, I’d settle for making coffee first?”

“Time for stretching.”

She pointed at me. “You’re a tyrant.”

“A tyrant you asked to train you, remember?”

Her expression softened—just enough to knock me off balance. And then, without another word, she pushed off the couch and moved into the open space. “I know. And I appreciate it. Even if you are denying me caffeine.”

“I’m the worst.”

“You really are.” But she was smiling as she started to stretch.

I rolled my shoulders, exhaling through my nose as I watched her.

This was fine.

No big deal.

Not distracting at all.

Or, at least, that was what I told myself as we worked through a warm-up.

I ignored it all—the way she moved, the quiet, satisfied hums she made every time she hit a good stretch. How ridiculously flexible she was.

I was impervious to all of it.

I’m lying. It’s fine.

Except, it wasn’t fine, because a very real part of training sometimes meant adjustments to form, and that was basically the last thing I wanted to help her with.

Why?

Because Luna Wilde lived to mess with me, and if she saw an opening to make me sweat, she’d take it—in a heartbeat.

“Why do you look like that?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, gesturing vaguely in her direction. “Your form needs work.”

“So… fix it?”

I gulped, bracing myself as I stepped forward. I moved behind her to adjust her stance, and just as I’d feared, the moment my hands settled on her waist, she leaned into me and sighed.

“I was being serious,” I said through a short laugh. “I really wanted to help you with your form. It wasn’t a pick-up line.”

She angled her head and looked over her shoulder at me, her surprise totally sincere. “Really? This isn’t a strategic cuddle break?”

I wordlessly shook my head.

“You sure?”

“ Luna .”

“What?” she asked innocently, though the way she leaned into me was anything but.

Deep breath. “ Menace . Focus.”

She laughed, but straightened with a nod. “Fine, fine. But just so you know? This whole strict teacher thing you’ve got going on? Totally into it.”

Someone help me.

I took a deliberate step back before I did something stupid—like forgetting about training entirely.

“Okay,” I said, forcing myself to think straight. “Let’s start with some basic blocks and strikes.”

“Ready.”

And then, for the next hour, I walked her through the self-defense techniques, and to exactly no one’s surprise, she picked them up fast. Luna Wilde might be an impulsive, habitual menace to my senses… but she also loved to learn.

She adapted, and she put in the work.

And she never once complained.

“Good,” I praised her after she successfully blocked a slow punch. “Now faster.”

We ran through the techniques again, speeding up little by little. She stumbled sometimes—but never quit.

“You’re holding back,” she said after a while.

I raised an eyebrow. “Of course I am. This is training.”

“No, I mean... you’re moving at normal speed. Human speed.” She straightened, shoving a few loose strands of hair out of her face. “How am I supposed to learn to defend myself against someone with powers if you don’t use yours?”

I knew where this was going.

Didn’t like it.

“Luna—”

“I know you’re worried about hurting me,” she cut in. “But what if I have to face someone like you someday? Someone enhanced?”

Cold—that was what my blood felt like now.

The idea of her fighting someone like me—someone who could take her apart in seconds—sent ice straight through my spine.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s highly unlikely. Unless all those Marvel guys are real.”

“ You’re real.”

I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. “I’ll think about it. Maybe next time.”

It was the best I could do.

“Deal.” She glowed brighter as she dropped into a fighting stance, eyes lit up with her perceived victory. “Now, come at me again. And this time, don’t treat me like I’m made of glass.”

I smirked. Everything about her was a contradiction.

Soft but unbreakable.

Wild but calculated.

Funny, but always— always —dead serious about the things that mattered.

And that? To me, that mattered.

We circled each other. This time, I struck a little harder, a little faster. She blocked the first hit and then the second.

She was quick. I’d give her that.

But on the third strike, she did something unexpected. Instead of blocking, she ducked under my arm—fluid, instinctive—sweeping my legs right out from under me.

Sure, I could’ve caught myself. I could’ve used my speed and reflexes to recover. But the move was so perfectly executed that I let myself fall, just so she could feel the thrill of that win.

She followed me down, knees bracketing my waist with her hands braced against my chest. “Ha! Got you!”

I gazed up at her, chest rising fast under her palms. “You did.”

She was triumphant.

Radiant.

Mine .

And no… apparently, I hadn’t let her take me down just so she could get that win. It was because I was finally ready to let gravity catch up with me—way too in love with her to care if I fell.

“I love you,” I rasped, the words out there before I even thought about stopping them.

Her breath caught, hands still braced against my chest, wide eyes locking onto mine. “You?—”

I nodded once. No hesitation. “Yeah.”

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

And then—she kissed me.

It was deep, desperate. Like she was trying to absorb the words straight from my lips, needing to feel them as much as I needed to say them.

And when she finally pulled back, eyes shining, she whispered, “I love you too.”

A slow, stunned exhale left me, but I didn’t loosen my hold on her.

I couldn’t.

She bit her lip, studying me like she was committing this moment to memory. Like she was creating a new core memory… if that were even possible for an adult to do. I just hoped that meant that, like her mom’s mac and cheese recipe, she would never get sick of me, either.

And then, when she leaned down for another kiss—this one less teasing, more claiming—I was wholly unprepared.

Our confession, the warmth between us—and the fact that neither of us seemed like we were in any rush to stop?

We were building something precious during these distractions I’d worked so hard to avoid, and I knew right then that it was worth protecting at all costs.

Reluctantly—because if I didn’t, we’d be here all day—I loosened my grip on her waist, rolling us so I could stand before pulling her up with me.

Luna stretched, arms overhead, eyes full of something warm. Lighter than usual.

Training her was already important, but the way I’d dedicate myself to it now? It’d be next-level stuff. Any tool she needed to make sure she was safe? She’d have it. No question.

And I knew—knew deep in my bones—I wasn’t losing this.

Losing her .

Ever.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring, “C’mon. Back to work.”

She sighed dramatically, straightening her tank top where it had ridden up. “Fine. But I think we can safely say I’ve mastered taking you down.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you think happened?”

She gasped, feigning outrage, but the light in her eyes told me exactly how much she was enjoying this game. “Are you saying it wasn’t?”

“I’m saying maybe I let you win.”

Her mouth dropped open—mock outrage. “Wanna go again and find out?”

The second I beckoned her forward, her expression shifted—determination replacing her playfulness.

We circled each other again, slow at first.

Testing. Waiting.

And then—she moved, and this time, it was different. Sharper. More controlled. She wasn’t just reacting—she was anticipating.

Reading me.

Pride swelled in my chest as she blocked a series of strikes, her movements fluid where they’d once been hesitant. She might not have my speed or strength, but she had something else.

Heart.

Hyperfocus.

And a stubborn streak a mile wide that I was basically addicted to.

“Better,” I said as she successfully countered another attack. “Much better.”

She beamed, practically glowing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I lowered my hands, signaling a break. “You’re a quick study.”

She grabbed a water bottle from the corner, taking a long drink before flashing me a grin. “Well, I have a good teacher. Plus, I’m very motivated.”

I smirked. “To learn self-defense?”

She met my eyes without hesitation. “To make you proud.”

And that hit harder than any punch ever could. My stomach clenched as if it’d been a physical blow, well-placed and too fast to dodge. Because of all the things I expected to hear from her today, that wasn’t one of them.

People didn’t say things like that to me. They didn’t want my approval. Didn’t look up to me. Didn’t see me as something worth admiring.

Sure, some people admired The Blade.

They idolized the idea of the comic book hero who selflessly saved the city one bad guy at a time.

The guy who rarely used the swords on his back for anything other than intimidation.

The guy who left criminals gift-wrapped for the police instead of killing them, like they would if they had his skills, in the ultimate show of mercy.

But me? Jax, as the man?

I’d spent every day since the accident hiding behind my blades, soaking up the criminals’ mindset that I was something other than human—worthy only of being feared, underestimated, or avoided entirely.

Even before The Blade, I was a Marine. But in my unit, with what we did? I was just one weapon in a group of others just like me. Part of a unit that got sent in to do the things other people didn’t want to do, and only to be discharged after one wrong move.

And now, here was Luna—who had crashed into my world like a supernova—saying she wanted me to be proud of her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like I was someone worth that.

She didn’t even know what she’d just done to me.

Didn’t know that she’d just lodged herself so deep into my bones that there was no coming back from it.

She trusted me, and I trusted her, too.

I crossed the space between us in two strides, cupping her face in my hands. She gasped softly at the suddenness of it, but I just held her there, thumbs stroking the tops of her cheeks, still trying to absorb the weight of what she’d just said.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

“I know. But I want to. Not just for you, but for me. For the team.”

I exhaled slowly, my thumb brushing against her cheek. “I love you.”

Her smile was instant—bright enough to rival the sun. “I know.”

“Wow, Star Wars , now?” I stepped back, dropping into a fighting stance.

My chest still felt like it had been cracked open, but I let her have the moment. Let myself have it, too.

With Luna, I never seemed to be capable of lingering in the dark for too long. Her light was just far too bright.

“Come on,” I taunted, crooking a finger, “show me what else you’ve got.”