Perhaps if I were human, I would say no.

Perhaps if I weren't living my life, I would get the hell out of there and never look back.

But I wasn't human and I understood. Ups and downs, mistakes, regrets. Even the terrible ones, like living off blood money, having criminals for relatives, and trying to escape your father's shadow by any means necessary.

He might be a vampire hunter and I might be a vampire, but we had more in common than we bargained for.

The way he stared at me, waiting for my answer, made my heart ache in a way it hasn't in a while. Like he tried to scare me off, but he'd still give everything he had if it meant I would stay.

"Yes." I said, deciding to put him out of his misery, "Tell me."

Jax took in a breath and leaned against the backrest, "How about we get out of here first?"

"Okay." I nodded, not completely sure this was the best idea.

Jax went to pay the bill, and I waited awkwardly, squeezing my fingers. The thought of hearing him admit to my face he was a vampire hunter terrified me. How would I even react?

Could I push down the regret and disappointment? Or would he see it splayed all over my face?

"Let's go." Jax called me, the muscles in his neck tense and taut.

"I hope you're not going to drive after this much rum." I offered an awkward chuckle, but he noticed the tension in my face, and slightly squinted.

"You're the one who wanted to ride without a helmet a few hours ago." He said. "And no, we're walking."

I breathed out relief and followed him out of the restaurant, saying goodbye to the place and selfishly hoping I'd come here again. Jax and I walked in silence; her had his hands in his pockets and a worried expression on his face.

I glanced up at him every now and then, searching for micro changed in his facial lines, trying to read his intentions and secrets. What would he do if he found out?

Would he kill me?

Would I have to kill him to defend myself?

My entire body recoiled from the thought, and just as we reached his apartment, I've come to a terrible realisation. If he attacked me, if he promised to hunt me for the rest of my life – I still wouldn't be able to kill him.

Jax unlocked his apartment and let me in, and unlike the first time I was here, I suddenly felt trapped. Needing to feel the cold freedom on my skin, I opened the sliding door to the terrace. The night was calm and clear, and even a couple of stars decorated the night sky. Sounds of traffic reached my ears; engines, honks, shouting.

"Are you cold?" Jax walked out with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, he put them on the table between two chaise lounges, and looked over my outfit.

"I like cold. It makes me feel free." I admitted, and looked at him. "How come you're not cold?"

"I spent most of my military years in Syria." Jax poured whiskey. "It was way too hot there. Coldness reminds me I got out."

There were many things about his past that interested me – why he broke his Sergeant's jaw and got discharged from the military, how he ended up involved with vampires hunters, what kind of shady things his family dealt with. But talking about this felt more right.

"Do you think it's PTSD?" I asked, wondering briefly if the question was too personal, but Jax answered without hesitation.

"Of course." Jax nodded, and I walked to the opposite chaise lounge.

We sat down.

"Everyone who sees up-close combat suffers trauma." He gave me the glass. "It takes time and patience to separate yourself from it."

"Would you want to go back?"

His eyes jumped to mine, "To Syria? No. To battle? Maybe."

"Depends on what?"

"The enemy." He shrugged. "I guess that's what happens to some of us in the military. We realise that we're not fighting the real enemy."

"Who's the real enemy?" I asked.

Jax shuffled the words in his mouth for a moment. In all honesty, I didn't want to know the truth. I didn't want to know if his sole life purpose was killing my kind. I wanted to pretend we had a future.

"Real enemies don't want you to know they exist."

"The types that kill you if you find them." The words burned as they left my lips, leaving a bitter taste of premonition behind.

Jax raised his glass, "Not if you kill them first."

I couldn't bring myself to salute, and he put the glass down, his head leaning to the side as he observed me. My chest felt too tight and crowded with the sudden burst of emotions.

"Whom are you hunting?" I whispered.

He shifted in his seat and looked away, "That's not important now."

"Jax-"

"Odette." His gaze cut through me.

"I don't want to see you get hurt."

The words escaped me before I could think about them.

Jax's expression softened right before he smiled, "First you don't want me to ride my bike without a helmet, and now you're telling me you don't want to see me get hurt. If I didn't know better, I'd say you cared about me."

His insinuation surprised me, even more so once I realised it was true. He got under my skin, and I haven't even slept with him. Fuck, I didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't want to use him, lie to him.

Have I been alone too long?

Loneliness was a strong motivator – it made one do things one wouldn't otherwise, give in to recklessness, and make mistakes. And I'd been lonely – so terribly lonely – I found myself falling for him.

"Maybe I do." Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. "Is that so horrible?"

All playfulness disappeared from his gaze, and he stood up quickly, pulling me up by the hand. My heart skipped a beat, and some childlike wonder overwhelmed me.

The last time I felt like this was just before my first kiss.

"No." Jax put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer, "It's perfect."

All thoughts disappeared from my head. All lies and schemes evaporated, or I pushed them down, desperate to make this moment as sincere as possible.

Jax kissed me, slowly at first, barely touching my lips. A content sigh fell off my lips, giving him permission, and the kiss deepened. He pushed his tongue past my teeth and tightened the grip around my waist.

There was hunger in his kiss, hunger for something other than sex, and I felt the desire pulling me in. It was desire for connection, desire for belonging with someone. We were just two lonely people kissing on the terrace, desperate to shape this into something more.

And I let it because I had no idea how much longer I could take this crippling loneliness. I let his hands run down my body, touch every inch of me, dig into my flesh. When his grip tightened, and he pressed my body against the wall, I gasped into his lips.

I wouldn't run away this time.

Even though every nerve in my brain knew it was a mistake.

But his lips slid from my lips to my neck, his hands felt strong and firm, and his warmth enveloped me in its tight embrace, causing a spark of desire in my belly.

I wouldn't run away this time.

Because I feared if I ran, I might not make it alone for long.