Page 185 of Villainous Intent

I landed. Annie stood about fifteen feet away, her arms crossed over her chest. Even in the dim glow, the tension in her shoulders was visible.

“Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” I said, removing my mask once I was satisfied no one was watching us. “Had to teach Captain Righteous a lesson in humility.”

Annie’s brow furrowed, the serious expression giving way to confusion. “Captain Righteous? I’m not familiar with a Hero by that name.”

I mentally replayed the entire twenty-minute fight. “Shit. I called him by the wrong name that entire time.” I ran a hand through my hair, thinking. “Captain Justice? General fucking vague?”

“Captain Valiant,” Annie supplied.

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “That’s the one. Too many self-righteous assholes to keep track of. So,” I said, taking a step closer. “’We need to talk.’ That sounds serious.” I kept my voice light, but my mind was sharpening, preparing for a threat. “Should I be worried?”

I watched Annie’s expression shift, her gaze dropping to her hands.

“You might not like this conversation,” she said softly. “So maybe.” Annie fidgeted with the sleeve of her sweater, twisting the fabric between her fingers. She seemed unsure how to begin, which only heightened my unease. Annie was many things, but hesitant wasn’t usually one of them.

I didn’t particularly want to hear whatever she was struggling to say. Her body language screamed bad news. Better to delay, to deflect. Better to control the flow of information. “So, did the secret meeting with Havoc go well?”

Annie swallowed visibly and looked away, her gaze going to the view of the bay behind me rather than meeting my eyes. “Not really,” she said after a moment. “And it’s connected to what we need to discuss.”

Well, shit.

“What I’m about to say isn’t fair to you,” Annie began, her voice soft but steady. “I know that. But I have to say it anyway.” She took a deep breath, her eyes finally meeting mine. “I need to know how you really feel about me, Cipher. Not what you think I want to hear, not what fits our arrangement. How you actually feel.”

Fuck. This was worse. So much worse than anything I’d anticipated. I’d rather face a hundred accusations about my dealings with Dread than answer this question honestly. My mind raced, trying to find the safest path forward. But there was no safe path. Not with this. If I told her the truth, it would give her power over me. But if I lied? Well, I was very good at lying.

“I’ve already told you. My feelings are irrelevant. They don’t matter in this context.”

A flash of frustration crossed her face. “That’s not an answer.”

“What does this have to do with the message you received?” I countered. “You said they were connected.”

“They are,” she insisted. “I need to know where you stand. Where I stand with you. Please, just be honest with me.”

Annie was pushing into territory I’d deliberately cordoned off, territory that was dangerous for both of us. But mostly dangerous for me. Feelings were leverage. Feelings were weakness.

“I am being honest with you,” I said, my voice hardening. “My feelings are irrelevant. What part of that isn’t clear?”

Annie shook her head, her eyes never leaving mine. “That isn’t true. They’re not irrelevant.”

“To what?” I demanded, taking a step closer, looming over her. “To fucking? Because that’s what our arrangement is about. Sex. Pleasure. Not feelings.”

“I can’t continue our arrangement unless I know what your feelings are,” she said quietly, standing her ground.

She was threatening to end things? Over this?

“My feelings have nothing to do with the arrangement,” I snapped, anger rising to replace the shock. “And neither do yours, for that matter. That was the whole fucking point.”

I expected her to fire back, to match my anger with her own. But she just stood there, looking lost.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, genuinely confused now. “What happened that’s made you so determined to break the one rule we both agreed on?”

“What we’re doing is not just fucking and you know it,” Annie said.

“Don’t,” I warned.

“Don’t what? Tell the truth?” I looked down at her and realized exactly what I had done. Even as I had shut down any talk about feelings in the lab, I had still bared my throat to her. I had handed her the blade with my non-answers. Now she was pressing it directly against my artery, demanding I bleed for her after I had been explicitly clear about our boundaries.

We had an arrangement rooted in flesh, dominance, and release. I couldn’t offer more. I wouldn’t offer more. My entire existence relied on absolute, unyielding control. Admitting she was everything to me would be a catastrophic system failure, a weakness I was already paying for even as I tried to fight it.