Updated Feb 18, 2026 • ~5 min read
WILLA
He’s kissing me.
Archer Saint—not Aaron Stone—is kissing me in a parking garage after someone just shot at us.
And I’m kissing him back.
This is insane.
This is dangerous.
This is…
Perfect.
His hands cup my face.
Gentle despite the violence we just escaped.
Protective despite the chaos.
I’ve imagined this for three years.
What it would feel like to kiss the stranger who saved me.
But the reality is better than any fantasy.
He pulls back.
Breathing hard.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t apologize.”
“We just got shot at. You’re in shock. I took advantage—”
“Archer.”
His name feels right in my mouth.
He freezes.
“You didn’t take advantage. I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for three years.”
Silence.
Heavy and charged.
“You don’t know me.”
“I know you saved my life. Twice now.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I know you’ve been watching over me. Protecting me. Even when I didn’t know I needed protecting.”
“That’s my job.”
“Is it? Because the way you just kissed me didn’t feel like a job.”
He looks away.
Jaw tight.
Conflicted.
“Three years ago,” he says slowly, “I was working undercover on a human trafficking case. The men who tried to take you worked for the Domenico family. I was in the parking lot that night following a lead. I saw them grab you. I intervened.”
“And then you disappeared.”
“I had to. The operation went bad. My cover was blown. The Domenicos put a price on my head. The FBI faked my death and put me in witness protection.”
“As Aaron Stone.”
“As Aaron Stone.”
I process this.
“So you’ve been hiding for three years.”
“Yes.”
“And you came back. For me.”
“No. I was assigned—”
“Archer.”
He meets my eyes.
“Okay. Yes. I volunteered for your protection detail. When we found out Malcolm was asking questions about you, I told Tobias to send me.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t let anyone else protect you. Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you for three years. Because I’m selfish and stupid and—”
I kiss him this time.
He responds immediately.
Hands in my hair.
Mouth hungry and desperate.
Like three years of wanting poured into this moment.
When we break apart, he’s smiling.
Actually smiling.
“I thought about you too,” I whisper. “Every day. I tried to find you. I looked at your sketch so many times I memorized every detail.”
“That’s why you recognized me.”
“That’s why I recognized you.”
His smile fades.
“This is dangerous. Being with me puts you at risk.”
“I’m already at risk. You said so yourself.”
“Because of me.”
“Because of Malcolm Domenico. Not because of you.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
Headlights sweep the garage.
Archer tenses.
Gun in hand instantly.
But it’s just a civilian.
Woman with groceries.
She doesn’t even look at us.
Archer relaxes.
Marginally.
“We should go. Tobias will have the safe house ready.”
“Okay.”
He drives carefully.
Still checking mirrors.
Still on edge.
“Tell me about witness protection.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything. I want to know everything about you.”
He glances at me.
Something soft in his expression.
“My real name is Archer Saint. I’m thirty-two. I joined the Marines at eighteen. Did two tours overseas. Got out at twenty-two and joined the FBI. Worked organized crime division. Went undercover on the Domenico trafficking case. Spent eighteen months building a case. Took down the whole operation. But Lorenzo Domenico—Malcolm’s father—found out I was FBI. Ordered a hit. FBI faked my death to protect me.”
“And your family?”
“Thinks I’m dead. For their protection.”
“That must be lonely.”
“It is.”
Silence.
“What about relationships? In witness protection?”
“Not allowed. Too dangerous. Any close connection could blow my cover.”
“So you’ve been alone for three years.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not living. That’s just surviving.”
He doesn’t answer.
Because I’m right.
“What about before? Before witness protection?”
“Before, I was engaged.”
My stomach drops.
“Oh.”
“She died. During the operation. She was FBI too. My partner. Nadia.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She betrayed us. Sold information to the Domenicos. Shot our other partner Marcus. Almost got me killed. She died in the raid.”
There’s no emotion in his voice.
Just facts.
But I hear the pain underneath.
“You loved her.”
“I thought I did. Before I knew what she was.”
“And after you found out?”
“After, I didn’t love anyone. Didn’t trust anyone. Just did my job and disappeared.”
Until me.
He doesn’t say it.
But I hear it anyway.
We arrive at the safe house.
Small. Suburban. Unremarkable.
Perfect for hiding.
Tobias is waiting inside.
Older. Black. Stern expression.
“Agent Saint. Ms. Crane.”
“Tobias.”
“The perimeter is secure. Malcolm’s men lost you. But they know what car you were driving. You’ll need to switch vehicles.”
“Done.”
Tobias turns to me.
“Ms. Crane, I apologize for the circumstances. But we’ll keep you safe.”
“How long do I have to stay here?”
“Until we neutralize the threat.”
“How long will that take?”
“Unknown.”
Great.
“There are two bedrooms upstairs. Food in the kitchen. Secure internet if you need to contact work or family. Agent Saint will remain on-site as your primary protection.”
He looks at Archer.
Something passes between them.
A warning.
“Understood,” Archer says.
Tobias leaves.
We’re alone.
“So,” I say. “Two bedrooms.”
“Yes.”
“Are you actually going to use the second one?”
He looks at me.
Dark eyes full of want and conflict.
“I should.”
“But will you?”
Long silence.
“No.”
And then he’s kissing me again.
This time, there’s no pulling back.
No apologies.
No hesitation.
Just three years of longing.
Finally released.
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