I tilt my head to the side, forcing a casual shrug as I flip the focus back to him. “Who are you, anyway?” Not that I need to know. I’ve avoided wanna-be heroes like him my whole life.
But the truth is, I don’t want to know anything else about him.
He’s already seen more than I’m comfortable with. And that makes him dangerous.
Interestingly he doesn’t answer me. So I try to lighten the mood. “Are you always charging in to save damsels in distress?”
His lips curve slowly, and that grin—oh my God, his grin—lands like a sucker punch right to my gut.
It cracks through the hard, sharp edges of his face, lighting up his dark eyes with a spark that’s equal parts mischief and something warmer, deeper.
My knees go trembly in a way they have no business doing, and I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself.
Heat flushes up my cheeks in a betraying rush.
His reaction has undone me, peeling back the layers I’ve spent years building to keep people at arm’s length.
“When I have the chance.” His voice is low and rumbling, like distant thunder rolling in over the mountains. “But I’ve rarely seen anyone outside of a trained agent handle themselves like you did out there. Impressive, Allie. You’ve got moves.”
I know what he’s doing. Circling back to his original question, using a different strategy.
Still, even though I hate it, his compliment lands warmer than it should, settling in my chest like a spark I don’t want to snuff out. I hate it—hate how it makes me want to lean in just a little, to let him see a glimpse of the real me beneath the aliases and armor.
But mostly I hate how it stirs an emotion I’ve buried deep, a longing for connection I’ve denied myself for so long.
Knowing I have to keep my guard up, I respond in kind. “Do you have a hero complex, Stryker?” Damn it. My tone comes out lighter than I intend.
“Much worse has been said about me.” He shrugs.
“Are you attempting to save the world from itself?”
For a moment, he’s silent, but the air between us is charged.
“I know it’s not possible, but I need to do my part.” He frowns as if debating whether to go on.
Is he being genuine? Or calculating? If he tells me something, will I feel compelled to share in return? Quid pro quo?
“I’ve seen enough bad days turn into worse ones. I’m recently back from a job—overseas, the kind that’s messy and sticks with you long after it’s over.” He pauses for a beat, his eyes going distant, like he’s seeing ghosts from whatever hell he just crawled out of.
In that moment, I realize he might be calculating, but he’s being genuine in his admission.
Quickly he seems to bring himself back to the present. But his eyes are haunted, making my heart skip its next beat. Whatever I’ve seen in my life, he’s seen worse.
“I don’t like bullies. And whoever wants you, it’s not random bad luck.” His tone is flat, leaving me no room for argument. “Let me help, Allie.”
The offer hangs between us, making the atmosphere pulse. And the edge of steel in his eyes makes me pause longer than I should.
He’s sharing a piece of himself, a rare vulnerability from a man who moves like a weapon, and it tugs at me in ways I don’t want to admit. Missions. Shadows. A life spent one step ahead of danger, just like mine.
Instinct urges me to insist that I don’t need his help, that I’ve been dodging hunters and ghosts since I was old enough to pick a lock.
But the image of my trashed apartment flashes in my mind—the slashed cushions, the scattered books, the hooded guy’s hot breath on my neck as he clawed for the locket.
At this moment, my options are razor-thin, and this condo of his feels like a fortress, walls thick enough to buy me time.
Finally, aware of Stryker studying me, waiting for an answer, I offer my most practiced, society-ready smile. My mother taught me well, and the act served me well as a young adult when I accompanied my dad to galas.
No one suspected that the supposed philanthropist was there to size up their priceless gems. He’d grin and write checks while his eyes danced with the thrill of knowing he’d soon be in a widow’s bedroom, stroking her diamonds and pearls.
