Page 84 of The Vigilant

There was a hefty pause.

My eyes lifted, connecting with the depths of his like a pebble sinking into the embrace of a bottomless ocean. One that was sometimes as still as the sky and other times churned with the ferocity of a thunderstorm.

My tongue swiped along my bottom lip, and lightning struck in the center of his irises.

“A long time,” his voice croaked.

This was the part of him my soul found kindred. The part that had never been taken care of either. Not in the way he should’ve been.Not in the way he deserved.

“Exactly.” The huskiness in my voice was new but not unwelcome. “So, sit back, relax, and be my guest.”

The reference was a mockery. This was no fairy tale, and if it were, he would be the brooding beauty, and I would most certainly be the beast.

When the vegetables began to sizzle, I dumped some soy sauce into the pan and stirred the mixture. For a minute, I wasn’t sure if he was still watching me. Or maybe I’d just gotten accustomed to the electric heat of his stare.

It was the latter.

“Add some rice wine vinegar,” Tynan said a minute later. “And a little balsamic.”

I paused mid-stir and then caved. I didn’t want it to taste like shit, so I took the advice, finding both bottles in the cabinet next to the stove.

“Sometimes, I think you just enjoy ordering me around.” I uncapped the balsamic and sprinkled some over the sizzling vegetables.

“And if I do?” His thumb twitched where it rested on his bicep, like he could hardly hold his stillness together.

Our gazes tangled for another second as I splashed the second vinegar into the pan, the hissing and sizzling coming from more than the liquid burning off.

“Anything else, Chef?”

His steely silence rang as loud as any verbal syllable.

As the seconds ticked by, I started to wish he’d given me further instruction because every moment only seemed to addto the tension between us. It popped with every breath, sizzled with every stray glance. It made my mouth water and my insides clench…and it was only a small miracle that I had the food I was cooking to blame.

The water started to boil violently, and in my rush to throw in the ramen noodles, I sent scalding hot water spraying from the pot and on to my arm.

I hissed and brought my wrist to my mouth at the same moment as Tynan jolted on his chair, his big torso tipping forward like he was ready to lunge across the counter. Like it was his job to kiss it better.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly and started to stir the noodles, his stare still trained on my wrist and the slight red mark from the scorch of water.

Like before, it was only a couple of seconds until guilt twisted his emotions like a flame to metal, bending and warping something that seemed so inflexible until it was unrecognizable.

“Sutton—”

“Who does the other service number belong to?” I blurted out, desperate for a distraction. For anything to rip the guilt away from his face. “I know the one is my dad’s. What about the other?”

“If I tell you about mine, are you going to tell me about yours?”

My lips peeled apart. My skin was marked not as a diary or design but as commandments. Just as surely as if I’d walked to the top of a burning hill and been handed them carved in stone, my commandments were chiseled cell by cell into my flesh. The wasp. Dad’s tag number. The scorpions.

Be no one’s prey. Be tactical when facing any enemy. And give no mercy.

“Maybe,” I croaked.

Tynan’s jaw pulsed, pain having buried a heartbeat at the angle of his jaw.

“His name was Ryan Henry,” he said, his tone so familiar, the one of a good man raked over the hot coals of guilt. “He was the youngest of us—of Harm’s unit. The…lightest, you know? Always joking. Singing. Raving about my cooking.”

I let out a sound that was a shadow of a laugh and heard myself say, “Mara was like that, too. Well, not raving about my cooking.”

---