Page 10 of Hero & Villain
This wasn’t about my weaknesses. It was about Dirk Dagger’s.
My hands were shaking no matter how tight I made my fists, and my heart was constricting my breathing again. I shook my head and exhaled a steady breath.
So when I was eighteen, I’d gone to Las Vegas to do all the things: watch my crush racing live, and overcome my fear.
I shook my head and refocused on the papers. Maybe I was too close to the target to analyze properly. No! I might not be able to hack properly or save Mr. Maples, but I’d die before I let a pathetic old crush turn me into a loser. I was not losing my freedom and position in my grandfather’s company to Philippe. No. I squeezed my eyes closed and then looked again, forcing my emotions back into lockdown.
Dirk Dagger had an arm over Toni’s shoulder in the selfie, but it was protective, how I’d put my arm if I thought she was threatened. He’d taken Nitro’s death hard. He was fearless as far as his own life was concerned, but when it came to being responsible for other people…that was his weakness.
And the elevator. Why would he save a sniveling idiot from her own fear, replacing terror with the memory of the hottest guy in Vegas kissing her? He had a soft spot for helpless females. He played the game because he liked to be strong, to win, to face the volcano and spit in it. But he needed a dose of hero worship, which meant that he had to play hero.
“I know that look. You’ve got him.”
I jumped, only then noticing Toni sprawled on the step above my paper mess.
I shrugged and straightened the papers I’d bumped. “Not long after my big birthday trip, Dagger quit running the team. Apparently, when Nitro blew herself up, he took it personally. I should have realized he was an irrational rich boy when he thought that he was responsible for her death. Everyone knows that she was a ticking time bomb, a lot like you but fueled by nitromethane instead of acrylics. Your way is much less flammable. I approve.”
She shrugged. “You keep me busy so I’m not too bored. I’m only self-destructive when I’m bored. About Dagger…” She leaned forward, blue eyes intent.
We had almost the same color of eyes. I studied her and then the picture of Toni with Dirk. In the photo, she looked like she was on the verge of tears. I should have gone with her, but I couldn’t go back to Las Vegas and face my humiliation. My grandfather would also kill anyone I dated who wasn’t approved. Legitimately dead. Body in the bay. He didn’t want me to end up like my mother, getting knocked up and falling for someone disreputable like a musician or a fighter.
I grabbed the other photo, the one where the bored rich boy blended so well. He was ridiculously handsome, but he looked boring, not dangerous, nothing like the knight who had rescued me on top of the tower. I wouldn’t have picked him out in a crowd. He knew how to disappear as well as I did. Why, though?Why would he choose to spend his time taking punches for the entertainment of the masses when he could be making serious money? And why had he targeted my fiancé? Former fiancé.
I’d never seen him at any of the events I attended with Clint, even though there was obvious proof that he’d been there. How had I not noticed him? What else had I missed? I’d recognize that mouth anywhere, in spite of the new small scar on the edge of his upper lip. The mouth was the same- soft and supple, strong but silk. I shook my head. I didn’t focus on men’s mouths. That would be weird. I had a reputation to maintain: ice queen, not creeper. His mouth was nothing. He was nothing more than a disinterested playboy, exactly like Clint the first time I’d met him. Of the two, Clint was probably more handsome. Maybe. I wasn’t thinking about Clint.
How would I seduce Dirk Dagger, who lived in the land of vice for a price? Is that what I was thinking? Seriously? I was too close to this project to be certain I wouldn’t be compromised. But I wasn’t about to let anyone else take him down.
Toni sniffed. “Come on, Vil. What’s the plan? How are you going to destroy him? What do I get to do?”
My mind raced as I went through his files, both personal and professional. I didn’t answer her for a long time while I examined each piece of his soul and dissected it. He hadn’t publicly dated since the funeral. Even before that, he had no type. He went out with blondes, brunettes, different ethnicities, as long as they were beautiful and didn’t mind not getting a second date.
I tapped my lips unconsciously as I remembered the brain-melting pressure that had wiped away all my fear as if he were magic. I shook my head. He wasn’t magic; I’d just built him up in my head for two years, romanticizing Nitro’s boss, who was super cool and hot and fearless. I’d looked at his screensaverwhen I needed not to be afraid, building more psychological ties to him that were strictly one-sided.
Everyone had issues, weaknesses. I would find Dirk Dagger’s and exploit it. I would break him like I couldn’t break Clint. I couldn’t even think about Clint without a rush of nausea and humiliated rage completely blanking my rational thoughts. No, I would take care of Clint later when I’d had time to calm down. I would destroy him, but not when he expected it.
James Russell Jefferson Dirk Prescott’s family was just him and his parents since his sister died almost five years ago, a few weeks before Nitro crashed and burned. Could the deaths possibly be connected? If I read between the lines, it looked like he’d been upset about her death and spent too much time drinking, pushing his team hard, which led to Nitro’s death, but it didn’t look like foul play.
No one was surprised when Nitro died. Sad, but not surprised. Maybe I could find something suspicious, give him hope that it wasn’t his fault, save his ego and cultivate his hero complex.
If only I were weak and in need of a hero. He would love rescuing a helpless female, particularly if he felt guilty about killing her only family.
Finally, I put down the folder and studied her. “Pink hair. You always wanted to destroy mine.”
Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “You’re going to infiltrate his team? He doesn’t have a team anymore. He works for Death-Hammer, mostly drinks from what I heard. What if he remembers you? Do you want him to? What’s the plan?”
I smiled and grabbed her wrist. “I’m stealing your identity. Not you, but you five years ago. Pink hair. Punk. Black leather and hot pink.” I giggled before I shut that down. I was not having fun. This was a mission. No emotions involved.
She gave me a skeptical look. “How long do you plan on playing wild girl? I listened to ska. That’s like reggae mixed with rap. It would drive you insane in a matter of seconds.”
“Your tastes have matured in the last five years. I’ll do pink, leather and black lace, but with class. He wouldn’t remember if you were an artist or a musician, but he would remember the colorful hair.”
She grabbed my hair and tugged on it. It was down over my shoulders, straight, dark, lacking in volume and split-ends. “You’re going to hate it. It’ll feel like straw.” She grinned at me, diabolical joy in her eyes.
I shrugged. “I can shave it all off when I’m finished.”
“And you’ll be finished when…”
“He’s Geotech. He develops cutting-edge technology. I’m going to steal it, develop it, and give it to my grandfather. Haverscorp is going to eat Geotech for breakfast, and Philippe will never take his place at the head of the board.” I’d die before I bowed to my cousin.
