Chapter 12 #2
Her lips trembled into something almost resembling a smile. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve never seen a man look at anyone the way he looks at you. Like you’re the sun and he’s been living in darkness his whole life.” I leaned against the sink. “Also, he’s currently sitting out there looking like someone just ripped his heart out through his nostrils.”
That earned me a small huff of a laugh. Progress.
“What should I do, Annie?” Dawn looked up at me, seeking an answer I couldn’t give.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“What would you do?” she pressed. “If you were me?”
The question hit harder than she could possibly know. My mind flashed to Cipher, standing in the kitchen, watching me with those intense eyes. The memory of his hands on my body, his voice in my ear promising things that made my skin burn.
He’d betrayed me. Lied to me. Put me in danger.
And yet.
And yet I still wanted him with an intensity that terrified me. Still thought about him every night before I fell asleep.
I could lie to Dawn. Tell her to run far and fast from the complications of loving a Super. It would be the safe answer. The responsible answer.
But Dawn deserved better than my lies.
“I’d stay,” I said quietly. “I’d be angry and hurt and probably make him grovel for approximately six months.” I met her eyes. “But I’d stay. Because when you find someone who sees all of you, the good, the bad, the messy parts you try to hide, and loves you anyway? That’s rare.”
I swallowed hard. “And maybe worth fighting for, even when it’s complicated.”
Dawn’s eyes searched mine. “Is it okay that I’m mad, though? At least a little bit?”
“Absolutely.” I squeezed her hand. “In fact, I’d be concerned if you weren’t mad. Anger is the appropriate response to finding out your boyfriend moonlights as a Villain who occasionally throws cars at people.”
She snorted, a tiny laugh escaping through her tears. “He said it was only parked cars. Never occupied ones.”
“Oh well, that changes everything,” I deadpanned. “Clearly he’s a humanitarian.”
Dawn’s laugh faded into a more comfortable silence. I glanced at the time. Crap. I was going to be late for my morning meeting with Havoc.
“Give me a second,” I murmured, pulling out my phone and typing quickly.
Going to be late. Helping Dawn with a situation. Update you when I can.
The response came almost immediately.
Dad
Take your time.
Dawn and I talked for another twenty minutes, Dawn cycling through anger, hurt, confusion, and back to something resembling hope.
I listened, offered tissues, and refrained from sharing my own complicated history with League members who keep secrets.
This wasn’t about me and my disaster of a love life.
When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Cipher had disappeared and Hunter sat exactly where I’d left him, looking like he’d aged ten years.
I gave him a small smile as I passed. “She’s coming out.”
The relief that washed over his face was almost painful to witness.
Behind me, I heard the bathroom door open. Dawn’s hesitant footsteps. Hunter’s sharp intake of breath.
I kept walking, resisting the urge to turn around. Some conversations needed to happen without an audience.
I pulled the bedroom door shut behind me. My job here was done, Dawn and Hunter were talking, which was a good sign. Or at least better than Dawn barricading herself in the bathroom.
Now I just had to navigate my way out of Cipher’s penthouse without spontaneously combusting from awkwardness. Simple enough. I could handle one half-dressed Villain and the memory of almost drunkenly sleeping with him.
When I reached the living room, Cipher was pacing. He’d changed. No more sleep-rumpled hair or bare chest. Now he wore a crisp button-down shirt, top two buttons undone just enough to reveal the edge of a tattoo I’d once traced with my mouth. Black dress pants completed the look.
He turned when he heard me, and something in his expression made my stomach flip.
“How is she?” His voice was low, concerned.
“Talking to him now. Which is progress from crying in the bathroom.”
Cipher nodded, taking a step closer.
“I’m sorry for just showing up like this,” I blurted. “Dawn called, and Hunter texted, and I didn’t think—I mean, I didn’t expect—“ I gestured vaguely at him, at the penthouse, at the whole situation.
“Don’t apologize.” His eyes never left mine.
I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of how close Cipher was standing.
“I should probably go.”
“I can give you a ride.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes darting to his mouth before I could stop myself. “I’ve already intruded enough. On your morning. And your space. And your everything.”
“You’re never intruding, Annie.” He took a step closer, and I fought the urge to back away from the magnetic pull I felt toward him. “Not on my space. Not on my time.”
“Still. I’ll just call a ride and wait downstairs.”
“If you call a ride, it’ll be one of my men driving you anyway,” Cipher said, his voice matter-of-fact.
I froze, my finger hovering over my phone screen. “Excuse me?”
“Every cab and rideshare you’ve taken in the last three months has been one of my men.” He delivered this bombshell like it wasn’t a big deal. “Your apartment building security too.”
My jaw actually dropped. Like, physically fell open.
“You’ve been—“ I sputtered, searching for the appropriate level of outrage.
For three months, I had walked through the city believing I was free, making my own choices, maintaining my distance.
I had actually been living inside a massive cage built by Cipher.
Every step I took had been monitored and controlled by him.
“That’s completely inappropriate and invasive and—“
“Did you think I’d just leave you unprotected?” Cipher cut through my protest, his eyes darkening. “After everything that happened?”
“Havoc has systems in place to protect me.”
“Havoc’s systems didn’t stop Dread from getting to you before.” His voice hardened.
I struggled to process this new information. Cipher had been watching me. Following me. Protecting me? For three months. While I’d been actively avoiding him. While I’d been pretending he didn’t exist.
A dark warmth spread through my veins. Some deeply buried part of me was actually flattered that he’d gone to such lengths.
What is wrong with you, Bishop? I was completely unhinged to find safety in the shadow of a monster.
“That’s...” I struggled to find words that weren’t ‘sweet’ or ‘touching’ because those were wrong answers. “That’s extremely invasive of my privacy.”
Cipher’s lips quirked up slightly. “Yes.”
No apology. No justification. And damn it all to hell, I found that honesty more appealing than if he’d tried to explain it away.
Cipher motioned toward the entryway where the elevator awaited. “Shall we?”
I pressed my lips together, tempted to tell him that one of his men could drive me instead. But my watch already read 7:58, and I hadn’t exactly penciled “Dawn’s League boyfriend revelation crisis” into my calendar between “morning coffee” and “review Havoc’s schedule.”
“Fine.”
The elevator ride down was exquisite torture. Cipher stood close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, but not quite touching me.
When the doors opened, he led me to a black sports car because of course he drove something that screamed “I have more money than God and excellent taste in automotive engineering.”
Cipher opened the passenger door for me, the perfect gentleman. If you ignored the stalking. And the kidnapping. And the killing two people in front of me last night.
I slid into the seat without making eye contact.
Just a normal Thursday morning. Getting a ride from the man who’s been secretly monitoring my every move for three months. The man I almost slept with last night. The man whose bare chest I definitely wasn’t thinking about two seconds ago.
Cipher slipped into the driver’s seat and the engine purred to life. I stared resolutely out the window as we pulled out of the garage, determined to maintain my dignity through silence and indifference.
My dignity lasted approximately forty-three seconds.
“So,” I said, still not looking at him, “do your stalker-drivers report back to you about all my movements, or just the highlights?”
“I don’t need them to report to me to know what you’re doing.”
“That’s—“ I searched for the right word. Invasive? Creepy? Disturbingly hot in a way I refused to examine? “—completely inappropriate.”
Cipher’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “So you’ve mentioned.”
“And yet you keep doing it anyway.”
“Yes.”
I rubbed at the spot between my eyebrows as if that would sooth the headache forming.
I needed to apologize for last night. For throwing myself at him. For putting him in that position when I was clearly not in control of myself.
The words formed in my mind but died on my tongue. It was too early for that conversation. I hadn’t had nearly enough coffee to navigate the minefield of “Sorry I tried to seduce you while drunk.”
Besides, a traitorous part of my brain whispered, I wasn’t actually sorry.
I stared out the window, watching the city blur past.
“Why did you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“Last night.” My voice was quieter now. “You could have... we could have...”
“Fucked?” He supplied the word I’d been dancing around.
Heat bloomed across my face. “Yes.”
“You were drunk.”
“I wasn’t that drunk.”
But I had been. After Cipher left, the room had definitely tilted a bit too much. The wine on an empty stomach, the adrenaline from the attack, all of it had combined into a perfect storm of impaired judgment.
He’d been right to stop.
I cleared my throat. “Actually, I was. Drunk, I mean. Not blackout drunk, but... impaired enough. You made the right call.”
Cipher’s eyes flicked to me, surprise evident in the slight raise of his eyebrow.
“Annie Bishop admitting I was right? Should I check if hell’s frozen over?”
“Don’t get used to it,” I muttered, crossing my arms.
His lips quirked up. “Noted.”