The Martyr's Smile
The air in the terminal tasted like cordite, ozone, and pure, unfiltered terror.
I stood dead center in the indoor play area, a slim, solitary figure acting as a human shield for fifty screaming children. Seven rifle barrels were leveled directly at my chest, the steel cold and unblinking. But I didn’t blink either. Why would I?
My “fiancé” had already hollowed me out, stripping away my dignity and leaving me as nothing more than a used afterthought. My family had washed their hands of me. I had a law degree, zero cash, and absolutely no place to live. Standing in front of those guns wasn’t just a reflex; it was a prayer. I had saved those kids hoping the bullets would finish the job my life had started.
Then, the ceiling exploded.
Flashbangs turned the world blindingly white, and through the smoke came a god of war. He was all black Kevlar, charcoal smears across high cheekbones, and eyes that cut through the chaos like lasers. An NSG Black Cat commando. He moved with a lethal, predatory grace that made the air turn static. Within ninety seconds, the seven barrels targeting me were neutralized. The threat was gone.
But instead of checking the perimeter, he blew right past his team and stopped dead in front of me.
“Can you walk?" his voice was a low, grounding rumble that vibrated right through my ribcage.
I looked up at his rugged, “HOT AF” face, my natural pink lips curling into a cold, distant smile. “I wasn’t planning on it."
His jaw clenched. Without asking for permission, his large, scarred hands lifted me into his arms, pulling my bruised body against the rigid armor of his chest. I passed out against his shoulder, letting the darkness take me.
