Page 66 of Heroes & Hitmen
She’s quiet for a beat, her gaze locked on the lake ahead of us. For a second, I’m not sure she’ll even answer, but then she turns to face me, chin lifted.
“It’s the only way to make sense of the world sometimes,” she murmurs. “I like facts, finding what’s real beneath the bullshit. People lie, spin things, hide behind stories. But the truth is always there if you dig deep enough. It’s like solving a puzzle.”
I nod slowly, letting that settle. It tracks. She’s lived her whole life surrounded by manipulation and half-truths. Treated like something to control, not someone to trust.
“Also, I like stories,” she continues, her voice quieter. “Not the sweet, sappy kind, but the real ones. The ones that are fucked up and complicated and still find a way to matter.”
I nod, the weight of her words sinking in as a beat of silence stretches.
“You’ll make a damn good reporter,” I finally say. “Straight to the point, blunt. You see through the bullshit other people can’t.”
She actually smiles at that, and it’s not the polite, performative smile I’ve seen her fake too many times. It’s real, and I’d sit through a thousand eye rolls to see it again.
“Yeah? What about you?” she counters, flicking her gaze over me. “What did you want to be before you got roped into…” she trails off, gesturing vaguely toward the city skyline behind us, “allthis?”
I huff a laugh. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
She shrugs, tucking her knees in closer. “I’m asking now.”
I look out over the water, letting the question hang there for a moment while I consider how to respond. The waves lap softly at the shore, steady and unbothered, like they’ve got all the time in the world.
“I was never good at school,” I admit. “Not that I couldn’t keep up, I just didn’t care. Sitting still, memorizing facts, pretending to give a damn about boring shit that didn’t matter… it felt like a slow death.” I pause, taking another sip of my beer and wiping my mouth off on a hand. “I liked being out in the woods, running drills, learning to shoot. And I hate to fail, so once I learned what I was actually good at, what held my interest, I leaned into it hard.”
She nods slowly, her eyes narrowed and thoughtful.
“After high school, I trained with our alliance’s security squad, then took on a leadership role to help run it,” I continue. “That’s what I was doing before I came here. Training recruits, helping ensure our territory remained protected.”
“So you’ve got a hero complex,” she murmurs, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Guess that explains why you stuck your neck out for me instead of slipping by under the radar until you could go back home.”
I shrug, letting my fingers rake through the sand. “Maybe I like it here.”
She snorts a wry laugh. “Nobody likes it here. We just play the hand we’re dealt, try to survive.”
I glance over at her, taking in the pink flush painting her cheeks and the windblown strands of hair escaping her bun. “Not true,” I say, voice low. “You make this place pretty damn bearable.”
She blinks like she didn’t expect that, then lets out a soft, surprised laugh, raising the wine bottle to her lips for another sip. Then she sets the bottle in the sand and turns to me, something shifting in her expression.
“I don’t want to owe you anything,” she says solemnly.
“You don’t.”
“I’m serious.” Her voice tightens, violet-grey eyes locked on mine. “If this whole thing goes south, I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire for my sake.”
I lean in, elbows braced on my knees. “I’m a big boy, Miley. I can make my own choices.”
She holds my gaze, the silver edge of her wolf gleaming through her irises. “Just don’t be stupid about it.”
I snort a laugh, gently knocking my shoulder into hers. “No promises.”
She heaves a sigh, leaning back on her hands and tipping her face up to the sky. The moonlight kisses her skin, softening the hard lines of her expression. She looks untouchable and real all at once– fierce and beautiful in a way that demands taking notice of.
Between the stars and the skyline and the black glass of the lake, there’s only one thing I want to keep looking at.
That is, until a white beam of light cuts across the sand and nails us both in the face, temporarily blinding me.
“Hey!” a male voice barks from the shadows. “The beach is closed!”
Miley freezes, her eyes flying wide as she jerks her head toward me, panic flashing across her face.
