Page 5 of Make Them Bleed

Gage shakes his head incredulously. "You're playing a dangerous game, Arrow. Are you really going to help her track down these killers?"

I shrug helplessly. "I don't know. Honestly, I have no idea what I'm doing. But right now, this feels like the only option. I have to keep her safe until I can convince her to let the professionals handle it."

"You realize you're basically signing up for some superhero shit, right? Like, Batman-level stuff. You're gonna need a mask or something," Gage says, half joking, half serious.

"Already ahead of you," I respond dryly. "I ordered a mask online."

"Nice. Batman? Ghostface? Something cool?"

I sigh, embarrassment heating my face. "Well, I wanted Ghostface. But instead, I accidentally ordered five masks of lesser-known presidents."

Gage snorts loudly, laughter erupting from him. "Oh my god, which one did you pick? Please say you’re going as Millard Fillmore."

"Herbert Hoover," I admit, shaking my head at his amusement. “I’ve also got a voice changer.”

Gage doubles over, gasping between laughs. "Arrow Finn, vigilante avenger, as Herbert Hoover. Amazing. You’re definitely keeping a low profile."

I glare half-heartedly at him. "Laugh it up. But I’ll do anything to keep Juno safe—even look like an idiot."

Gage calms down eventually, wiping his eyes. His expression sobers. "Seriously, though, you think Juno's onto something? About Arby's murderers, I mean?"

I exhale, staring down at my hands. "I don't know. It could be someone with a grudge against influencers, someone jealous of her fame, or something even darker. All I know is that whoever they are, they're still out there, and the police aren't close to catching them."

Gage leans back in his seat. "Do you think she could actually uncover something? Maybe it's not the worst idea to help her, at least to keep an eye on her."

"That's what I'm counting on," I reply, my voice threadbare. "If she trusts me as this vigilante, maybe she'll let me guide her to a safer path."

"You realize how complicated this could get, right? Especially if she finds out who you really are," Gage points out cautiously.

"Yeah," I admit, feeling the weight of it heavily. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take. I love her, Gage. If something happened to her, I’d never forgive myself."

Gage’s gaze softens. "You're a good guy, Arrow. Juno's lucky to have you, even if she doesn't know it yet."

I try to smile but fail. "I hope you're right. Because one way or another, I'm not letting anyone else hurt her."

We sit in silence for a moment, both lost in our thoughts, the TV's soft glow washing over the room. For now, all I can do is wait and prepare for the night ahead—no matter how ridiculous I might look in a Herbert Hoover mask.

3

Juno

I swear the barista can hear my heart pounding over the hiss of steaming milk. The downtown Saint Pierce Bean Flicker is usually my happy place. It’s all warm cinnamon-sugar air, indie-folk playlist, string-lights that twinkle like stars someone forgot to switch off. But tonight every glint of metal, every clatter of a mug ricochets straight through my nerves.

I pick the corner booth facing the door, the one where Arby and I once plotted a brand-deal takeover that never happened, and wrap both hands around a latte I’ll never drink. Foam hearts collapse against the ceramic as minutes stretch, rubber-band tight.

You’re really doing this, Juno.

The pep-talk doesn’t help. My palms sweat. My leg bounces. I catalog exits, cameras, shadows. A family of four at the counter shares a brownie; a gray-haired professor readsMoby Dicklike he hasn’t noticed half the pages are missing. Normal, ordinaryThursday night things. Except I’m about to meet a stranger from the darkest corner of the internet to hunt down murderers.

If Mom could see me now she’d revoke my Wi-Fi.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number. My pulse spikes so hard the screen blurs.

Unknown: Alley. Now.

Unknown: No cameras.

A map link pings beneath the text. A tiny dot pulsing behind the café.