Chapter 4 #2
I wanted to sink through the floor. Seemed like a reasonable alternative to sitting here, waiting for him to walk through that door and notice me pretending I didn’t care that he existed.
And then there he was, walking into the box. In person. My heart stuttered painfully as he stepped inside.
“Oh my god, he’s right there!” Dawn whispered, gripping my arm. “Annie, you should go say hi!”
“Absolutely not.” The words shot out of me with such vehemence that both Dawn and Hunter stared. I cleared my throat. “I mean, that’s not how it works. I’m a Keeper, Dawn. No one notices Keepers. That’s kind of the point. We’re background noise.”
Dawn’s eyebrows knitted together. “But you work with Havoc. Surely he’d know who you are.”
“He wouldn’t even recognize me.” I forced a dismissive shrug. “I’m just another face in a suit to someone like him.”
Please drop it. Please drop it.
Please.
Drop.
It.
I kept my eyes fixed on the arena below, watching the technical crew make final adjustments. Every cell in my body screamed to look over, to see if he’d noticed me.
I couldn’t. If I looked at him, really looked at him, I’d shatter into a million pieces right here in front of everyone.
Goddamnit.
The temperature control in our box felt like it was malfunctioning. Too hot, then too cold, my skin prickling with both.
“Mr. Cipher! Hi!” Dawn’s voice rang out.
My entire body froze, blood turning to ice in my veins. This couldn’t be happening. But Dawn was already out of her seat, waving and oblivious to the emotional apocalypse she’d just triggered.
Hunter’s face drained of color. “Dawn, maybe that’s not -“
Too late. She was already moving toward the edge of our box.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying hello,” Dawn said. She gestured back toward Hunter and me. “Small world really, my boyfriend managed to get us these seats and my roommate just happens to be Havoc’s Keeper. I figured you two must have crossed paths.”
“Is that so?” His voice carried that familiar velvet darkness that used to whisper against my skin in the middle of the night.
I shot Hunter a desperate look that screamed “help me,” but he looked as helpless as I felt, his shoulders hunched with the weight of impending disaster. If Dawn actually accepted Hunter as Menace, we’d need to sit her down for extensive League etiquette lessons.
Rule number one: Don’t cheerfully approach Super Villains like they’re celebrities at a meet-and-greet unless it is an actual meet-and-greet.
I braced myself for the physical impact of his presence. I forced my chin up, dragging my focus across the short distance between our boxes until I was finally looking directly at him.
I waited for my knees to buckle, for my ribs to crack open and spill all my lingering grief right there on the floor.
It never happened. My spine locked into place and my lungs kept pulling in air.
I was somehow holding together, a perfectly intact shell, while sitting just feet away from the man who had ruined me.
Cipher tilted his head slightly, that infuriatingly perfect mouth curving into a smile that made my stomach drop through the floor.
I looked down quickly at my hands, counting my heartbeats, silently begging any cosmic force listening to make this moment end. Make Dawn come back to her seat. Make Cipher disappear. Make the building collapse. Anything.
I couldn’t look up. If I looked at him again, I’d either burst into flames or burst into tears. Neither option seemed particularly dignified.
Please don’t drag this out, I silently begged Cipher. Please just nod politely and turn away. Please.
“Perhaps you could introduce me properly to your roommate,” Cipher suggested, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that made me want to fucking punch him.
“Annie! Come over here!” Dawn called over her shoulder, waving me toward them.
I remained frozen, my body refusing to cooperate with Dawn’s innocent request. To my absolute horror, Cipher approached the edge of his box, closing the already too-small distance between us.
His smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth with canines that were just a little too sharp. It was the smile of someone who’d just been handed exactly what they wanted. He was enjoying this. The bastard was actually enjoying watching me squirm.
Three months of rage crystallized within me, sharp-edged and burning. I’d spent all that time rebuilding myself from the wreckage he’d left behind, and here he was, casually demolishing my progress with nothing more than a smile.
“Your roommate seems shy,” Cipher said to Dawn. “I don’t bite. Unless specifically requested.”
Dawn laughed. “Annie’s not shy! She’s just very professional. Comes with being a Keeper, I guess.”
I forced myself to stand, legs trembling. Professional. Right. I could do professional.
“Cipher,” I acknowledged, happy my voice only shook a little. I approached, stopping beside Dawn but maintaining a careful distance from the edge of our box.
“Annie Bishop,” he replied, my name rolling off his tongue like he was tasting it. “What a pleasant surprise.”
I couldn’t see it, but I knew his gaze was traveling over me. The sensation was familiar, the way he could possess me with nothing but a look, make me feel naked and exposed in a crowded room.
“Is it?” I let ice coat every syllable to counteract the heat building under my skin. “I wouldn’t have expected someone of your stature to notice Keepers at all.”
“I always notice the important details and you have always been impossible to overlook.”
Dawn’s eyes darted between us, her eyebrows lifting as a knowing smile spread across her face.
“Well,” she said, drawing out the word. “I think I’ll go sit with Hunter. You two clearly have things to discuss.”
“The match is about to start,” I said quickly, desperation leaking into my voice. “We should all sit down.”
Dawn patted my arm, ignoring my plea. “Take your time.” She winked, actually freaking winked, and retreated to her seat beside Hunter, leaving me stranded in no-man’s-land with Cipher’s attention fixed on me.
I turned to follow her, desperate to escape.
“Running away so soon, Sparks?” His voice wrapped around the nickname like a caress. “And here I thought we were just getting reacquainted.”
My spine stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”
“Would you prefer Ms. Bishop? Or perhaps Keeper? Though I seem to recall you preferred much more intimate forms of address.”
Heat flooded my face. The bastard was deliberately trying to get under my skin, and it was working.
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Any word I chose would be the wrong one, either too cold or too revealing. Instead, I turned and walked back to my seat, feeling his gaze burning into my back with every step.
Dawn shot me a questioning look as I sat down, but I avoided her eyes. My hands trembled slightly in my lap, and I curled them into fists to hide the evidence of my distress.
The announcer’s voice sounded through the arena again, mercifully drawing everyone’s attention to the combat floor. But I couldn’t focus on anything except the rage building inside me, mingling with hurt.
I caught Hunter’s eye and the guilt written across his face confirmed every suspicion. He knew Cipher would be here. Of course he knew. His best friend was sitting in the next box, and this whole evening was a setup.
Hunter winced under my death glare, having the decency to look ashamed as he mouthed what looked like “sorry.”
Sorry didn’t begin to cover it.
The arena lights dimmed dramatically as the combatants were announced. Dawn squeezed my arm, misreading my rigid posture as excitement for the match. “This is amazing! We should do this more often!”
The floor beneath us pulsed with light as the combatants entered. The crowd’s roar grew louder, but it felt distant.
I stared at the arena without seeing it.
He hadn’t contacted me once. Not a text, not a call, not even a cryptic message through Havoc. Nothing.
Because everything he’d said that night on the rooftop had been a lie.
My love isn’t gentle.
The memory of his words scraped against my raw nerves. What a performance that had been. The intensity in his silver eyes, the roughness in his voice, the way his thumb had traced circles on my wrist.
A metallic crash echoed through the arena as one fighter slammed the other into a platform. Dawn jumped beside me, then cheered. Hunter’s arm tightened around her shoulders.
“Did you see that? That was amazing!” Dawn gasped and grabbed my arm, shaking it excitedly.
I nodded mechanically, willing my eyes to stay focused forward. I would not look at him. He would be invisible. Irrelevant and forgotten.
Breathe from your diaphragm. Ground yourself in the present moment. Name five things you can see.
My therapist’s techniques weren’t working. Nothing worked. My fingers itched with the urge to reach across Dawn and strangle Hunter.
Instead, I let the spectacle fill my vision.
Razorwire’s bladed limbs sliced through the air, each movement leaving faint light trails in the specially designed atmosphere.
The Mechanic’s defense systems whirred audibly even from our distance, the sound cutting through the bass-heavy background music.
The Mechanic unleashed an impressive barrage of micro-drones, their metallic bodies forming a shimmering cloud around him. Razorwire countered with a sweeping gesture that sent hundreds of metal shards slicing through the air.
Time seemed to slow as I watched a stray cluster of Razorwire’s metal shards veer off course, slicing through the air toward the sidelines. The Keeper stationed there raised her hands instinctively, her personal shield flickering to life.
Then the unthinkable happened. The shield sputtered and failed.
The shards tore through her body. One moment she was standing there, tablet in hand, and the next she was crumpling to the ground, her white uniform blooming crimson.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, rising to my feet.