Page 159 of Villainous Intent

Havoc’s hand settled on my shoulder. “Annie, stop.”

“Why? It’s true! He paraded me around like a trophy, and the minute someone damaged his property, he eliminated them. All of them. Because I’m his, and nobody touches what’s his without consequences.”

My voice had risen to something approaching a shriek. I clamped my mouth shut, mortified by the outburst. Havoc looked like he’d been hit with a stun gun, his expression frozen somewhere between shock and concern.

“Are you finished?” he asked quietly.

I nodded and the fury that had propelled my rant drained away, leaving me hollow.

Havoc shook his head. “Annie, he killed those men to send a message because it needed to be sent. But he also killed them because they helped Baron Ash do what he did to you.”

I just stared at him.

“Each one of them contributed to what happened in those tunnels. The security guard who looked the other way. The dealer who supplied the Somnolax. The technician who messed with the cameras so no one would come help you. They couldn’t be allowed to live.”

Cipher’s words echoed in my head: I’m going to kill anyone who touches you. Not because you’re mine, but because they deserve to die.

Apparently that extended to touching by proxy. Twenty-seven people who’d never laid a hand on me personally, but who’d made it possible for Baron Ash to do so. I should feel horrified, or at least outraged at the disproportionate retribution. That should be the response of Annie Bishop who’d spent her life following rules and maintaining order.

Instead, I felt nothing. Just a hollow space where horror should be.

“Annie?” Havoc’s voice gentled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically. “Just processing.”

Why had Cipher sent me away, then? If he’d gone on this rampage to avenge me, why dismiss me like I didn’t matter? The question burned in my throat, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask it out loud.

Havoc sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Look, maybe next time don’t tell me about you having—“ He trailed off, making a vague gesture with his hand.

“Oh god,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands as my cheeks flamed with mortification. Oh fuck, I’d told him we’d had sex. “Can we pretend I never said that part?”

“Already forgotten,” Havoc said, though his pained expression suggested otherwise. “It’s okay, Annie. I’d be foolish to think it wouldn’t happen eventually.”

I peeked through my fingers. “What does that mean?”

Havoc just shook his head, a strange half-smile on his face. “Nothing. Let me clean up this mess.”

He grabbed a roll of paper towels from the counter and knelt down, soaking up coffee. I joined him on the floor, gathering the larger ceramic shards.

“Careful,” Havoc warned as I reached for a particularly sharp piece. “You’ll cut yourself.”

“I’ve been handling my own broken mugs since I was twelve,” I reminded him.

“Yes, and you needed stitches that time.”

“That was one time and it was because you startled me when I was already holding the pieces.”

Havoc’s laugh rumbled through the kitchen, and for a moment, it was just us, the way it had been for years. No Cipher, no twenty-seven dead bodies. Just Havoc and Annie, cleaning up a mess together.

My hands still trembled slightly as I deposited ceramic shards into the trash, but the numbness was receding, replaced by something that felt almost like relief.

Twenty-seven people who would never hurt anyone again. Twenty-seven links in a chain of violence that had been permanently broken.

“Are you really okay with that many people dying?” The question that had been burning in my mind finally tumbled out.

Havoc didn’t look surprised by my question, more like he’d been waiting for it.

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” he asked.