Chapter 33
Chapter thirty-three
Mandie
Ididn’t even have time to steady myself. Quantum Knight was already there, a monolith in matte charcoal, the pale gold circuitry along his arms pulsing like veins.
"Where did you go?"
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders back. "Out."
"That’s not an answer."
"I wasn’t aware I owed you a travel log." I crossed my arms, mimicking his stance. "Last I checked, this was a sanctuary, not a supermax prison."
"You put us all at risk."
"Oh, I’m sorry," I said, my voice dripping with false sweetness. "Was there a memo? 'Mandie’s Curfew: Do Not Vanish Without a Hall Pass'?"
Behind me, Johnny shifted. The playfulness was gone, his spiky hair catching the light like a warning flare. He stepped forward, moving into the line of fire.
"She needed to tell her friend she was alive," he said, voice hard. "Cassie was falling apart on national TV."
Quantum Knight turned slowly, like a turret tracking a target. "And you thought the best course of action was to hand-deliver her to a potential surveillance zone?"
Johnny’s hands were shoved deep in his pockets, but I could see the tension in his shoulders. "Yeah. I did."
Roger stepped in then, jaw set, the all-American leader cracking under the strain. "Do you have any idea of the exposure you just risked? They could have been following Cassie. You could have led them right to the front door."
"They weren’t there," Johnny snapped.
"You don’t know that." Roger’s blue eyes flashed. "You took a risk. A stupid, unnecessary risk."
Johnny laughed, a harsh, humorless sound. "Oh, like we don’t take risks every damn day? Like you don’t fly into gunfights without a backup plan?"
"That’s the job," Roger shot back. "This was personal. This was reckless."
"No," Johnny said, voice dropping into a dangerous register. "What’s reckless is keeping her in the dark. What’s reckless is lying to her face and expecting her to just sit pretty and trust us." His green eyes flicked to me, then away, guilt flashing across his face. "I’m tired of living the lie."
The words hung in the air, heavy as a verdict.
Sebastian, who’d been trying to blend into the stainless steel of the kitchen island, finally cleared his throat. His voice was calm, the psychiatrist looking for the pressure valve. "Johnny, we understand the frustration, but there are protocols for a reason—"
"Protocols?" Johnny turned on him. "Don’t give me that. We all talked about this. We all agreed the lying needs to stop."
"Enough." Matt’s voice cut through the room like a broadsword. He uncrossed his arms, his massive frame expanding to fill the space. "We’re not doing this. Not like this."
But the dam had already broken. The flood was coming, and Matt couldn’t block it.
Donovan, who had been trying to make himself invisible in the corner, finally looked up. He flinched as the tension spiked, but he didn't look away.
"Boss, you need to tell her," Donovan said. His voice was quiet, but it silenced the room instantly. "She needs to know the real reason she's here. If you don’t, one of us will."
Quantum Knight stiffened.
Donovan’s gaze held steady. "You aren't protecting anyone with your lies anymore. You're just protecting yourself."
Quantum Knight didn’t move. Not at first. His suit hummed faintly, the pale gold circuitry pulsing like a mechanical heartbeat in the silence. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up and grasped the angular helmet. The visor strip flickered once, a digital hesitation, before he lifted it off.
Time stopped.
The face beneath wasn’t just familiar.
It was his.
Teddy.
The brown eyes I’d stared into for a year.
The sharp jawline I’d traced with my fingertips when he was too distracted by work to notice.
His hair was shorter now, slicked back in that infuriatingly polished way, but it was him.
The man who’d ghosted me. Who’d left my texts on read.
Who’d made me feel like I was losing my mind when I swore I saw him in the shadows.
My breath left me in a rush. The room tilted.
Then, before I could think, my hand was moving.
The crack of my palm against his cheek echoed through the Keystone like a gunshot.
His head snapped to the side, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise a hand to stop me. He just stood there, taking it.
"Jesus, Mandie—" Johnny started, but I didn’t hear him.
Teddy exhaled slowly, fingers pressing against the reddening mark on his face. When he turned back to me, his expression was unreadable. Not guilt. Not anger. Just that same damn control he always had. Like he’d calculated every possible reaction and prepared for this one.
"We need to talk," he said. His voice was low. Not the robotic distortion of the suit. Just him. The same tone he used when he was about to deliver bad news. "Privately."
I laughed. It was sharp, ugly. "Oh, now you want privacy? After years of lies?"
His jaw tightened. "Please."
"Fuck you!"
I whipped around, storming toward the hall, but he was already moving. He stepped in front of me, hand shooting out not to grab, but to block. Palm up. Begging.
"Mandie. Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to knee him in the groin and watch him crumble. But his eyes flickered with something like fear. I knew that look. I’d seen it the night I walked out of our apartmet.
"Fine," I spat. "But if you lie to me one more time, I swear to God, Teddy, I’ll—"
"I know," he said quietly.
He turned and walked toward the hallway toward the room I’d been sleeping in for the last forty-five days. My room, his room, I don’t know anymore. I followed, pulse hammering.
He opened the door, and I stepped inside, the realization hitting me late. The sterile gray walls. The high-tech desk. The lack of personal photos. It was so Teddy. I’d been sleeping in his bed for a month and a half.
He closed the door. The click of the lock was deafening.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I crossed my arms, tattoos standing out stark against my skin. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the perfect styling, and suddenly, he looked younger. Like the guy I’d met at that charity gala.
"You were Quantum Knight this whole time," I said finally.
He nodded once. "Yes."
"And you never thought to tell me in the two years we were dating? Or when you kept me here for forty-five days?"
His fingers twitched at his sides. "I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But—"
"But what?" My voice cracked. "But you were too busy playing superhero? But I wasn’t important enough to know?"
"No!" He stepped forward, then stopped himself. "No, it wasn’t that. It was dangerous, Mandie. If you knew, if anyone knew, it put you in the crosshairs. And after we broke up… after you left, I thought I could keep you safe by keeping you out of it."
I barked out a laugh. "Keep me safe? Teddy, I was attacked by supervillains anyway. I'm trapped in a bunker. And you’re standing there telling me you were protecting me?"
His hands clenched. "You think I don’t know that?" His voice dropped, raw. "I failed. But I was trying to—"
"Stop." I held up a hand. "Just stop. You don’t get to be the martyr. You lied. For months. You let me think I was going crazy."
He swallowed hard. "I know."
I wanted to hit him again. Instead, I turned away, fingers digging into my arms, staring at the bed that smelled faintly of him.
Silence.
"So this whole time," I said, voice trembling, "the reason the villains were after me was because of you? They were trying to get to you through me?" I laughed bitterly. "Well, if they knew what I really thought of you, they would have passed. Problem solved."
"They didn't care how you felt about me," he said, looking up. "They cared about how I feel about you."
The air left the room.
"They know that if they control you, they control me," he continued, voice steady but intense. "And by controlling me, they control the whole team."
"Why would they even think that?" I demanded. "We broke up months ago."
He gritted his teeth, looking away. "They have good intel."
"Bullshit," I snapped. "That’s not an answer."
He looked at me then, and the raw honesty in his eyes terrified me. "Because I haven't been good at hiding it, Mandie. Because they know I’d burn this city down if anything happened to you."
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my legs suddenly weak. I could tell he was still hiding something.
His hands were shaking now. "I didn’t know what else to do. Every time I thought about telling you, I imagined you looking at me the way you are right now. Or worse, dead, because I’d dragged you into my mess."
I closed my eyes. The room was spinning.
I stood up so fast the bed frame creaked. "I'm leaving."
"No." He moved in front of me, blocking the door. "Mandie, listen to me. If you go now, if you run, they will find you."
"I don’t care!" My voice rose to a scream.
His expression darkened. "I’m telling you to survive. Because if they get their hands on you, they will use you to break me. And then they will finish what they started."
He reached for me, then stopped, his hand hovering in the air. "I’m sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I’m so goddamn sorry. But I need you to trust me. Just a little longer. Let me fix this."
I looked at him. Really looked at him. The lines around his eyes were deeper. The way he held himself, like he was one wrong move away from shattering. This wasn’t the arrogant Teddy who’d broken my heart. This was a man who’d been drowning in guilt for longer than I’d known.
And I hated that I still cared.
I turned away, hands clenched into fists. "Get out."
"What?"
"Get. Out." I stared at the wall, refusing to look at him. "This is your room, but I can't… I can't look at you right now."
For a second, I thought he’d argue. But then the door clicked open, and his footsteps retreated down the hall.
I was left alone in the too-perfect room that smelled like him, the weight of everything pressing down like a collapsing sky. I sank onto the bed, head in my hands.
And for the first time in months, I let myself cry.