Page 63 of The Vigilante's Lover

Jovana stops walking, her back to me, as if she’s waiting for me to arrive.

Just as I reach her, ready to knock her to the ground, she turns.

Her arms are a blur as her fist slams into my belly, then her elbow crashes against my chin. I stumble for a minute, but I’m in a blind rage, so I launch myself at her again.

I remember how Jax brought me down with a blow to the back of the knee. I kick at her leg, miss by a mile, but in the heels she isn’t quite as solid, so she takes an uncertain step to the side.

My adrenaline is surging as I wrap my arms around her waist and bring her down. We both land on the asphalt, but it’s my arm that takes the brunt of the fall.

Pain screams through my body, but I ignore it. I figure if I can’t beat her in a fight, I can at least make her life difficult for a little while. I snatch at the watch and jerk it from her wrist. It flies through the air and lands with a crunch somewhere down the row.

“You little bitch!” Jovana says. She’s trying to get her hands on my neck, and I know what that’s all about. Jax did that pinch thing to me in the car.

Not today.

I grapple with her, keeping her from getting enough control to bring me down with one of those death grips. Her bag falls off her shoulder, and I kick it like a football, scattering the contents. Might be something interesting in there if I can grab it.

She rolls me onto my belly, and I know from watching the fights that this is bad.

I don’t let the momentum stop, though, and manage to keep going so I’m on my side.

Now her bag and its secrets are under me.

I reach behind me with one hand, trying to find something to use against her, while the other fends off her attempts to get me in one of those vise grips.

I’m already wearing out, though, and I know this battle is going to end as fast as it started if I can’t find a way to get the upper hand. All I’ve had working for me so far is the element of surprise and her high heels.

I find something round and metal and hold it out. It’s a weird little device with a bottle attached. I push down on it and a vapor steams out of it.

Ha, a lethal gas, I bet. I hold my breath as Jovana blinks from the rushing of air.

She knocks it away. “What, you going to kill me with my asthma treatment?”

Damn.

She jumps on top of me, pinning my arms.

I’m screwed now. My breathing is labored, my heart crashing in my chest like a mad drummer in a punk band. She wanted me dead in my house. This might be it. The beginning and end of my Vigilante days.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks.

“Your worst nightmare,” I say.

Smooth, Mia. Quote a bad movie.

Her perfect eyebrow quirks up. Even with her hair all over the place, she’s undeniably one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. It’s not lost on me that she’s sitting over me like she probably used to do on Jax.

I go limp on the asphalt. I’ve messed up in so many millions of ways. Jax is going to kill me.

If his Vigilante ex-lover doesn’t first.

“What are you after? Money? Drugs?” Jovana’s expression is hard. “You picked the wrong bitch to mug.”

Light begins to dawn. She doesn’t know who I am. Like, really doesn’t. Hasn’t she seen my picture?

Of course, I don’t photograph well. Probably the only thing in their system is my driver’s license, where I resemble a strung-out meth addict. Plus, I’d tried to give myself highlights the day before, and it looked like I had spaghetti stuck in my hair.

“You got any cocaine?” I ask. “Angel dust? PCP?” I don’t know what the hell I’m saying. That’s all I can remember from some anti-drug lecture in sixth grade.

Jovana pushes away in disgust. “You filthy Americans,” she says. “Your self-destructive habits.” She stands up and snatches her purse. “Pick up my things.”

“You got cash, then?” I ask.

“Ugh, here.” She flings a wad at me. Dollars flutter against my chest and I trap them as if I’m desperate.

I shove them in my jeans pocket and pick up the items on the ground. Nothing special. Normal girl stuff. Lipstick. Mirror. Receipts. Then something. A strange silver wand. I pick it up.

Jovana snatches it from me. “Now scram,” she says.

I turn away and run.

I don’t look back as I dodge cars, weaving through them, my hands clenched tight. I pretend to stumble, pick myself up, and keep going. I slow down as I hear a door slam and an engine whir, the quiet whine of an electric.

She drives along the rows and leaves through the guarded exit. Only then do I stop and turn around to head back to the blue Acura. I could believe that I utterly failed in my task. If I wanted to stop her, then it’s true.

But I didn’t fail. She has a meeting with Sutherland tomorrow night she can’t be late for, not after her hissy fit. And I can’t wait to tell Jax that I know where she’s going.

And that she’s missing this.

I open my fist. Her watch is in my hand.