Chapter Two
Sage burst out of the coffee shop into a June night that hadn’t quite cooled yet.
Southern California was predictable like that. Warm pavement, too many people still wandering around after dark.
Students scattered across the quad, shrieking as the chase blew through them. Backpacks swung. A phone clattered on the concrete. Someone dove out of the way.
Stealth had officially left the building.
Which internally cracked him up because—yeah. Assassins.
He swallowed back a snort and charged forward with Law at his side, his mind already sketching the exits.
Campus floodlights washed everything in sterile white, too bright and not bright enough at the same time. Shadows pooled under trees and along the brick buildings lining the courtyard. Great for cameras. Terrible for depth perception.
The suspect bolted across open grass and cut hard across the main walkway.
A girl stepped backward without looking, earbuds in, laughing at something on her phone.
Sage saw it a split second before impact. Perfect timing.
He veered, caught her backpack strap, and hauled her clear as the suspect barreled past where she’d been standing.
“Careful,” he said, already releasing her.
She stared at him, stunned.
He was gone before she could process it, cutting left just as the suspect did.
No thought went into it—his body simply read the weight shift, the suspect’s shoulders dipping toward the narrower corridor between buildings a fraction too early. He adjusted, boots striking pavement in tight rhythm, breath steady.
“Angle’s closing,” he muttered into comms.
“Copy,” Law said.
Winter came in hard from the left and vaulted the low concrete barrier without breaking stride.
Black flanked wide, silent and precise. Micah stayed just off Sage’s shoulder, moving with that quiet, dancer-like precision Sage had noticed the first day he arrived at the ranch, matching pace and cutting off retreat angles without needing to be told.
The suspect’s head snapped right—toward the narrow service corridor between buildings.
Sage shifted to follow—
—but Law was already moving. The man cut inside, shaving distance, taking a tighter line along the brick facade. For a split second, Sage saw nothing but Law’s broad shoulders as the older man blew past him. Show-off.
The suspect hit the corridor.
That was a mistake.
Law met him three strides in and drove him hard into the brick.
Winter took the legs. Black stepped in with power and locked down the arms.
The fight lasted three seconds. Four at most.
Concrete scraped. A sharp grunt.
The efficient sound of zip-ties cinching around wrists.
Done.
The quad behind them was already settling—confused students backing away, phones half-raised, unsure what they’d just witnessed.
Students always defaulted to confusion before fear.
Their brains needed a second to decide if this was real life or something they’d just watched on TikTok.
A few were already laughing too loudly, pretending it had been a prank.
Someone filmed. Someone swore they’d seen a badge.
Someone would post about it before sunrise.
By noon, it would be rewritten as a campus rumor.
By evening, there would be nothing to witness.
Sage slowed, breath steady but elevated, adrenaline buzzing under his skin with nowhere to land. He bounced once on the balls of his feet, burning off the leftover charge.
Law straightened, rolling one shoulder, drawing in a breath. Not winded—just worked.
“What are you doing for the Fourth?” Law asked.
He blinked at Law. “Huh?”
The soldier shot him a sideways glance, that grin flashing suddenly and recklessly in the floodlit courtyard. “Fourth of July?”
The grin had no business being that sinful with a man face-down at their feet.
It caught Sage off guard.
A short laugh slipped out before he could stop it.
“You planning something?”
“Maybe.”
Micah snorted. “If this involves sparklers, I’m in.”
Black didn’t look at him. “You lit your jacket on fire last time.”
“Was so worth it.”
“Took years off my life putting it out.”
Sage watched the corner of Black’s mouth twitch. It vanished as quickly as it appeared.
He shook his head once, smothering another laugh, trying to get his pulse back under control. “Show pics or it didn’t happen.”
Micah barked a laugh.
Winter snorted, “Jesus.”
Black’s mouth twitched again. “Oh, it happened. Trust me.”
Sage rolled his eyes. “Children. You’re both embarrassing.”
“Hey! I’m older than you,” Micah laughed.
Sage’s lips twitched. “That’s not the defense you think it is.”
A low chuckle rumbled out of Law.
Micah swung a teasing punch at Sage’s arm. Sage leaned out of reach without breaking stride.
It was strange how easy this felt.
How natural.
He hadn’t felt that in a long time.
“You good?” Law asked, voice lower now, closer.
“Yeah.” The word came out lighter than he expected. “I’m good.”
And he was.
Law’s gaze lingered a second too long. “You sure?” he asked quietly.
He looked up at Law.
And up.
The man was close enough now that he could see the gold threaded through his whiskey-colored eyes, could feel the heat coming off him, steady and grounded. Broad shoulders filling the space between them. Solid. Unmovable.
Too easy to lean into.
“Always,” Sage said.
A beat passed.
Law studied him like he was measuring something.
Then the man nodded and let it go.
His phone vibrated against his thigh.
Sage went still.
He didn’t look. Didn’t reach for it.
Law was still watching him.
The moment stretched a fraction longer than it should have before he shifted his weight and said, easy as before, “So… the Fourth of July. You got fireworks planned?”
The phone went silent.
He’d deal with it later.
It stayed outside this moment.
“Yup, and a family barbecue,” Law drawled.
Before he could answer, the rest of the guys closed in.
Micah scanned the quad once, slow and thorough.
Students were already pretending nothing had happened. Phones lowered. Conversations resumed.
“Cleaners are east side,” Black said quietly.
Law angled them that way. They shifted direction without breaking stride, cutting toward the service lane bordering the quad.
A dark van rolled into position as they approached—no lights, no hesitation.
The doors opened. Two men stepped out, efficient and unremarkable.
Winter handed the suspect off without a word. The man didn’t get the chance to resist.
In a few moments, there would be no trace left of a psycho who’d roamed the campus and preyed on the weak.
Law nodded.
Just another night.
They crossed the quad in practiced formation, fading into shadow where the floodlights thinned.
Sage rolled his shoulders and fell back into step, his mind already sorting the night into patterns and outcomes.
Separate. Compartmentalized. Contained.
The night began to settle around them.
Winter was already giving Memphis hell over who was filing the report. Micah said something about sparklers and gasoline being a “valid enhancement,” and Black rolled his eyes like he’d heard it before.
Sage laughed.
It came easily. Unforced. For half a second, he felt lighter than he had any right to be.
Law’s phone vibrated.
He stepped a few paces away to answer, voice low. “Yeah.”
Sage only half listened, his attention snagging on Black asking Micah if he was winded from running, and Micah scowling at the big guy in response.
Law went quiet.
“We’re probably not heading back,” Sage murmured to Winter.
The assassin gave a grim nod. Black jerked his head toward where they’d parked the car, and Micah adjusted and fell into step beside the bigger man without thinking about it.
Black’s hand brushed the younger man’s shoulder once—brief, grounding, the kind of quiet check-in he seemed to give Micah without thinking about it.
Sage caught something in Black’s expression when Micah smiled. A shadow of something sharper than irritation, gone before he could name it.
His gaze flicked to Law and found those whiskey eyes already on him.
Another one, Sage assumed. Another sicko who’d slipped through the cracks.
He checked the time out of habit.
His meeting would have to wait. That wasn’t ideal, but it couldn’t be helped.
Sliding his hands deeper into his pockets, he stepped closer to Law.
“…for him?” Law asked into the phone.
Something in Sage’s chest tightened before he understood why.
“Copy.” Law lowered the cell but didn’t look away.
Their eyes met.
“There’s a call for you,” Law said.
The smile left without a fight.
Sage didn’t move for a beat.
Then he reached for the phone.