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Vice didn't release her completely. He kept his hands loosely over hers, maintaining the tension on the string. "Almost. Just imagine you're target. Focus. Let the arrow become an extension of you're will." His voice lowered, turning husky and intimate. "Feel the power in you're hands."

"Let go," he said into her ear, that deep seductive voice making her knees weak. She didn’t fight it as she melted into him. The arrow found its mark. In the middle of the bull’s eye. He couldn't help himself as she tilted her head, giving him moreaccess to her neck. He leaned in and inhaled her scent deeply, releasing a low growl.

"Thank you," she said, smiling at him sweetly. He didn't move but cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"This," she paused, as his hands wrapped tighter around her waist. “And for saving James." Vice stiffened. "I realized I never thanked you."

Vice pulled away from her slightly. "Don't thank me, Ivy. I didn't do it out of the kindness of my heart. It, as you know, came at a high cost. Your freedom." He said coldly, looking away from her.

"I know, but you didn't have to save him. You could have said no, but you didn't."

"Again, Ivy, I did it for my own reasons."

"Regardless, thank you," Ivy said, not looking at him as she shot another arrow into the target. The thump resonated in the air, but neither spoke.

Time passed, the only sound the soft thud of arrows hitting the target. The silence between them grew, until Ivy finally broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper. "What happened to you're parents?"

Vice's grip on the bow loosened, his hands sliding down to her hips, his fingers drifting down to the small of her back. His breath caressed the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

"They died right after I turned five," he said, his voice low, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness. "Special ops soldiers. On a mission. They were killed in action."

The words hung in the air, a somber reminder of the pain that lay beneath Vice's surface. Ivy's eyes fluttered open, her gaze drifting to the target, the arrows sticking out of it like skeletal fingers. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto Vice's, a flicker of compassion crossing her face.

Vice's gaze dropped, his eyes focusing on the ground, his jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek. For a moment, he stood there, the only sound his labored breathing.

Then, without warning, his voice cracked, his words spilling out in a rush. "I missed them, Ivy. I was so young, I don’t really remember them. But I remember the way it felt when I hugged them goodbye at the airport. The way they smelled, the way they felt against me. It's a stupid thing, but it's all I have left of them."

Vice's voice broke again, his eyes flashing up to Ivy's, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the surface. Ivy's heart skipped a beat, her grip on the bow tightening, her fingers digging into the wood. “It’s not stupid,” she reassured him. She felt a pang of emotion, a sense of connection to this man, who had been hiding behind his tough exterior.

The air between them thickened, the tension palpable, as Vice's gaze lingered on her, the weight of his emotions hanging in the balance.

Vice watched Ivy line up another shot, her movements precise despite the circumstances. He kept his voice level, devoid of inflection. "What about you're parents?"

Ivy paused, and took a deep breath, then took the shot. A slight grimace flickered across her face before she answered."My mom was supposed to protect me from the monster under my bed. Turns out, she was the monster under my bed."

She shuddered almost imperceptibly before continuing. "My dad... he was my hero. Still is. He worked a lot, had to support us, you know? But he still made time for me. We'd go to the cabin my family built - his side. Big German family, he was the oldest of eight kids. He'd even take me with him to scout out spots for his deer stand. Really, I was just happy to be there, spending time with him."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "He'd let me help him wash his blue truck. When it snowed I’d get all bundled up in my pink snowsuit and he'd throw me into big snowbanks, and we’d go sledding... there was this huge hill right down the road from my first house. One time, I went down and flew right off the sled. I went one way, my hat another, and my boot... who knows where my boot went! We laughed so hard that day." Her voice softened, the memory warming her from the inside.

But the warmth faded quickly, replaced by a chilling seriousness. "I truly believe that if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have survived my mother’s rage. And I sure as hell wouldn't be as good of a person as I am. I love my dad." A wave of emotion washed over her face. "And I miss him too. I haven't talked to him since you brought me here. I don't even know if he knows what's going on. Honestly... I don't want him to know. I don’t know what he’d say about me doing what I did. Him and my daughter are the two people I can’t stand to upset or disappoint." Ivy looked over at Vice. He looked almost sad. She walked over to him.

"Vice, what's on you're mind?" Ivy's voice was like a soft breeze on a summer's day, a stark contrast to the heavy silencethat had settled between them. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her face against his back.

Vice, startled by her sudden presence, took a moment to gather his thoughts.

His gaze remained fixed on the horizon. "Just thinking," he murmured, his tone a mix of longing and resignation.

"About what?" she prodded gently, her voice a soft caress against the tension in the air.

Vice's chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. "About the choices we make, the choices that are made for us and the people we become because of them." He paused, his hand tightening around the bow, the string humming a solemn tune. "And how those choices can lead us to places we never thought we'd end up."

Ivy's arms tightened around him slightly, her cheek pressing closer to the fabric of his coat. "You're not the monster you think you are," she whispered, her voice filled with a gentle conviction. "You've made mistakes, sure, but you're not defined by them. You're more than just you're past."

Vice's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "Easy for you to say," he murmured, the words coming out more as a defense than a genuine belief. "You haven't seen what I've done."

Ivy leaned into him further, her voice unwavering. "I know you saved James. That's not the act of a villain."

Vice's jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "Don't try to change the narrative, Ivy," he snapped, his voice a harsh whisper. "I'm the villain here. You know it, I know it andso does everyone else. Don't try to make me out to be some kind of hero."