Awkward Morning
Selena's POV
Selena woke up to the sound of metal clicking against metal.
She opened her eyes and saw Rook sitting across the small room. He was taking apart his gun piece by piece, cleaning each part with careful movements.
They had found this place at dawn - an old mechanic's shop with broken windows and a back room that locked from the inside. Safe enough to rest for a few hours.
But Selena hadn't really slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the kiss.
Click. Click. Click.
Rook's hands never stopped moving. Clean the barrel. Oil the trigger. Check the spring. He worked like a machine.
"You're awake," he said without looking at her.
"Hard to sleep with all that noise."
"Sorry."
But he didn't stop cleaning the gun.
Selena sat up on the old couch. Her neck hurt from sleeping wrong. Her clothes were dirty and torn. She probably looked awful.
Rook looked exactly the same as always. Perfect hair. Clean face. Like he had stepped out of a magazine instead of jumping off a building.
How did he do that?
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Seven in the morning."
"When do we have to meet Marco?"
"Six tonight."
"That's eleven hours."
"I know how to count."
His voice was cold. Distant. Like last night had never happened.
Like the kiss had never happened.
"Rook—"
"We need to talk about the plan," he said quickly.
"What plan?"
"How we're going to get your father out alive."
"I thought we were just going to walk in and shoot Marco."
"That's not a plan. That's suicide."
Rook finished cleaning his gun and started putting it back together. His fingers moved fast and sure, like he had done this a thousand times.
Which he probably had.
"Tell me about the warehouse," Selena said.
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything. Layout. Exits. Blind spots."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not just going to stand there and watch you do all the work."
Rook looked up at her for the first time. "You're not coming inside."
"Yes, I am."
"No. You're not."
"It's my father, Rook. My family. My fight."
"It's my job to keep you alive."
"Your job ended when you kissed me back."
The words hung in the air between them. Rook's hands stopped moving on his gun.
"That was a mistake," he said quietly.
"Which part? The kiss or kissing me back?"
"Both."
The word hit her like a slap. She had known he would say it. But hearing it still hurt.
"Right," she said. "A mistake."
"Selena—"
"Forget it. Just tell me about the warehouse."
Rook was quiet for a long moment. Then he started talking.
"Three floors. Main entrance faces the street. Loading dock in the back. Fire exits on the east and west sides. Marco will probably have snipers on the roof."
"How many men?"
"At least a dozen. Maybe more."
"Weapons?"
"Everything. Rifles, handguns, maybe explosives."
"Great. So we're outnumbered and outgunned."
"Yes."
"Any good news?"
"I know the building better than they do. I used to meet your father there."
Selena watched him check his other guns. He had four of them. Plus two knives. And something that looked like a small bomb.
"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked.
"Do what?"
"Clean guns like that. Like it's second nature."
"Practice."
"When did you start?"
"When I was twelve."
"Right. When you killed that man who tried to hurt your sister."
Rook nodded but didn't say anything else.
"What happened to her?" Selena asked. "Your sister."
Rook's hands stopped moving. For a second, his mask slipped. She saw pain flash across his face.
"She died," he said.
"How?"
"Cancer. When she was sixteen."
"I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago."
But she could tell it still hurt. The way he held his shoulders. The way he wouldn't look at her.
"Is that why you became what you are?" she asked. "Because you couldn't save her?"
"Maybe."
"And now you're trying to save me instead."
"Something like that."
Rook stood up and walked to the broken window. He kept his back to her.
That's when Selena saw them.
Scars.
They covered his back like a roadmap of pain. Some were thin and white - knife wounds. Others were round and puckered - bullet holes. One looked like it had been burned into his skin.
"My God," she whispered. "What did they do to you?"
Rook spun around, pulling his shirt down. But it was too late. She had seen.
"It's nothing," he said.
"That's not nothing. That's torture."
"It's the past."
"Who did that to you?"
"People who are dead now."
"All of them?"
"Most of them."
Selena stood up and walked toward him. Rook backed away until he hit the wall.
"Don't," he said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you feel sorry for me."
"I do feel sorry for you."
"Well, stop. I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity. It's understanding."
"Understanding what?"
"Why you think you don't deserve to be happy."
The words hit him hard. She could see it in his eyes.
"I don't," he said quietly.
"Because of my mother?"
"Because of everyone. Your mother was just the last straw."
Selena reached out and touched his face. This time, he didn't pull away.
"You saved those families last night," she said. "You saved me. That has to count for something."
"It doesn't bring back the dead."
"No. But it might save the living."
They looked at each other for a long moment. The anger was gone. The walls were down. She could see the real Rook now - not the killer, but the broken boy who had never learned how to stop fighting.
"About last night," he said.
"What about it?"
"It can't happen again."
"Why not?"
"Because when this is over, I'm leaving. And you need to have a real life. With someone who isn't a monster."
"What if I don't want a real life?"
"You do. You just don't know it yet."
Before Selena could answer, both their phones buzzed at the same time.
New message.
Rook read his first. His face went white.
"What is it?" Selena asked.
He showed her the screen. A video message. She pressed play.
Uncle Marco appeared on the screen. He was standing in what looked like the warehouse. Behind him, her father and Detective Vance were still tied to chairs.
"Hello, Selena," Marco said, smiling his fake uncle smile. "I thought you might want to see what happens to people who cross me."
He walked over to Detective Vance and pulled out a gun.
"No," Selena whispered.
"This is for trying to help your mother all those years ago," Marco said.
He shot Detective Vance in the head.
Selena screamed.
The video kept playing. Marco walked back to the camera.
"Your father is next, sweetheart. Unless you come alone. No Rook. No backup. Just you."
The screen went black.
Selena stared at the phone, shaking. "He killed him. He just killed Detective Vance."
"I know."
"We have to go. Now."
"It's a trap."
"I don't care!"
"If you go alone, you'll die."
"If I don't go, Dad dies."
"So we stick to the plan."
"What plan? You never told me the actual plan!"
Rook looked at her with something that might have been regret.
"The plan where I go in first and try to get your father out."
"And me?"
"You wait outside."
"That's not a plan. That's abandoning me."
"That's keeping you alive."
Selena grabbed his arm. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise me that if you have to choose between saving my father and killing Marco, you'll choose Marco."
"Selena—"
"Promise me!"
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because," Rook said quietly, "your father isn't the only one Marco has."
"What do you mean?"
Rook showed her his phone again. A second message had come in while they were watching the video.
This one was a photo.
A little girl, maybe eight years old, tied to a chair in what looked like a basement. She had dark hair and scared eyes.
Below the photo was a message: "Remember Maria's daughter from her first marriage? The one everyone forgot about? Surprise - she's still alive. Come alone or both your sisters die."
Selena stared at the photo. The little girl looked familiar. Like someone she had seen in old family pictures.
"I have a sister?" she whispered.
"Half-sister. From before your mother married your father."
"But she died. Mom told me she died when she was a baby."
"Your mother lied to protect her. She's been hidden away all these years."
"Where?"
"With a foster family. Safe. Until now."
Selena looked at the scared little girl in the photo. "What's her name?"
"Luna," Rook said softly. "Her name is Luna."