Page 160 of Villainous Intent

I stared at him. “Of course it would matter! You’re Havoc. You’re a Hero.”

A strange smile crossed his face. “Am I?”

“The Alliance must have called for you,” I pressed, the realization hitting me. “Last night, when Cipher was... when he was...” I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘on his killing spree.’ “They must have called you to help stop him.”

Havoc’s expression didn’t change. “They did.”

I waited for him to continue, to explain that he’d been busy, that he couldn’t get there in time. The explanation didn’t come.

My mouth dropped open. “You ignored the summons?”

He nodded once, his blue eyes never leaving mine and I just stared at him, unblinking. You didn’t just ignore an Alliance summons for help.

“Why?”

Havoc turned away, reaching for the coffee pot. The morning light caught on his profile, highlighting the thin scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. It was a souvenir from his Villain days that he’d never bothered to have removed.

“If I’d gone, Annie, I wouldn’t have tried to stop him.” His voice was matter-of-fact. “I would have joined in.”

“You can’t mean that,” I started. “You can’t⁠—“

“Can’t I?” He turned back to me, coffee pot forgotten. “Deep down, I’m a bad man, Annie. I’m just very good at playing the Hero.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong. Instead, I found myself remembering moments from my childhood, the cold fury in his eyes when he’d dealt with those who threatened me, the violence he was capable of when pushed.

“I don’t think this is news to you,” he said softly.

I swallowed hard. “It’s not.”

Havoc sighed, his shoulders rising and falling and I stared at my hands, suddenly fascinated by the coffee stain under my thumbnail.

“I should be horrified, right? Twenty-seven people are dead, and all I can think is—” I winced, forcing myself to say it. “I’m glad they’re dead. Every single one of them. Does it bother you how unbothered I am by all this?”

There. The terrible truth. I waited for Havoc’s disappointment.

Instead, he shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me at all.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

“Annie, I’ve watched you alphabetize your cereal boxes. You once made a spreadsheet to determine the optimal route for grocery shopping.” His mouth quirked up at one corner. “If you’ve finally found something that doesn’t trigger your internal rule book, I’m counting it as personal growth.”

Leave it to Havoc to make my moral crisis sound like I’d finally learned to leave dishes in the sink overnight.

“But I’m a Keeper,” I protested. “I’m supposed to uphold the system, not silently cheer when someone burns it down with extreme prejudice.”

“The system isn’t perfect, Annie. Never has been.” He leaned back against the counter. “Sometimes justice and rules don’t align. That’s something I learned a long time ago.”

I nodded slowly, letting his words sink in. “So when the Alliance called you last night...”

“I made a choice,” he said simply. “Just like Cipher did.”

Just like I had, when I’d kissed Cipher. When I’d pressed myself against him knowing exactly what he was capable of.

“I’ve spent my entire life trying to be perfect,” I whispered.

“And exhausting yourself in the process.” Havoc’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay not to be perfect all the time.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” I admitted.