Chapter Nineteen
The following morning…
The kitchen was quiet in that early-day way, light coming in through the windows and settling across the counters, catching on bright surfaces that didn’t look like they saw much use.
Sage moved through it like he belonged there.
He didn’t ask, didn’t hesitate—just flipped the stove on, pulled a pan down from the hook, set it in place like he was on a mission. Efficient. Easy. No extra motion.
The burner clicked, then caught, a low, steady flame settling under the pan.
The faint hiss of gas evened out as the heat built.
Law stayed at the island, leaning against the counter, watching him work.
There was something different now.
Not the movement—Sage had always been quick, always sure of where his hands needed to go—but the lack of distance. No edge to it.
He cracked eggs into the pan.
The sharp crack of a shell against the pan cut through the quiet.
The yolks spread slowly, catching the heat with a sizzle.
The smell of eggs and grease started to fill the kitchen, warm and immediate.
“Two or three?” Sage asked, not looking back.
“Five,” Law said.
Sage did glance back then, green eyes wide, lips parted as if to say something. He only snorted and went back to cracking eggs.
“I’m a big boy.”
“Yes…yes, you certainly are,” Sage agreed, and Law heard the snicker in the man’s voice.
Buckshot’s tail thumped against the floor. The dog lay near the back door, head up, eyes following them both, but mostly locked on Sage.
His nails clicked once against the tile as his tail picked up.
Law pushed off the counter and moved in closer, running one hand down the curve of Sage’s ass through the tight jeans.
Heat from the stove pressed into him as he stepped in.
The warmth settled into his front, grounding the moment.
Sage didn’t move away.
Didn’t even glance up.
“Hand me the salt.”
Law handed it to him without thinking about it. As if they’d done this a thousand times. If he had any say, they would.
Everything felt easy.
Too easy.
Like they fit.
He watched Sage lightly use the salt before plating the eggs and adding sausage heated in the microwave.
The microwave beeped once, sharp in the quiet.
“And voila,” Sage said with a smile, turning with two plates in his hands.
“I’ll get us fresh coffee,” Law said and turned to the counter to refill their mugs, making sure Sage’s was creamy and sweet.
The smell of coffee bloomed stronger as he poured, cutting through the grease.
Steam curled up between them for a second before fading.
He slid onto the stool next to Sage, and for several minutes they ate in silence.
The eggs were simple, salted just right, the sausage still hot.
“You cook?” Law asked.
“Only when I have to. You?”
“Mom made a point of teaching us all to cook. Nothing fancy.”
“I don’t need fancy.”
Law turned on his stool, his knee brushing the side of Sage’s thigh.
Sage slowly turned his head. Those full lips so close that Law didn’t resist temptation and leaned in to steal a slow kiss. No tongue, just a press and brush of their mouths. Sage’s pupils expanded. Law eased back. Sage licked his lips.
The contact lingered a second longer than it should have.
Law husked out a low groaning chuckle, and Sage laughed before pulling away to continue with breakfast.
Leaning against the counter, he kept the conversation light while Sage finished cooking the food. Plates were filled, coffee refreshed, and they sat at the island counter to eat.
Several minutes later, he pushed his plate away and swallowed the last of his coffee. Sage had opened his laptop halfway through the meal.
“Any leads on Rook yet?” Law murmured, watching Sage over his empty coffee cup.
“Not yet,” Sage mumbled, pulling up a few screens that showed the surveillance they had in the area. It had only taken him moments to access the cameras.
“We only have the photo to go on,” Law said.
Sage shook his head. “And her Facebook,” he said with a smug expression, turning the laptop so Law could see the data on Monica. “She’s his ex-girlfriend.”
“So, it’s a fifty-fifty chance he’ll come back.”
Sage snorted. “More like ten percent. But…if they have any ties left, this is the best place to catch him.”
“We’re going on a lot of assumptions.”
“Not really. Rook was at Cain’s place. He either knows something about Cain’s death or he did it.”
“Good point. If he shows up here, we’ll nail him.”
Sage’s mouth tipped at the corner.
Buckshot shot to his feet, ears pricking. His tags gave a soft jingle.
A hard rap hit the door a moment later, the sound landing sharp in the quiet.
Sage jumped.
Buckshot barked, then growled, a low sound building in his chest before his tail suddenly started thumping.
“Apparently, we know them,” Law said with a chuckle. He pushed to his feet and moved for the back door. Sage stayed where he was, cup cradled between his hands.
Law opened the door.
Winter’s hand lowered, and he peeked past Law to Sage at the counter.
Black stood off to the side with Memphis just behind him. Boston and Micah hung back.
Boston swung one foot lightly where he stood, restless energy barely contained.
“Are we interrupting?” Black asked, eyes flicking past Law and Winter into the house.
“Shut it,” Law smirked.
He stepped back to let them all in, tracking the shift as they crossed the threshold—boots on tile, space filling, the quiet from a second ago gone just like that.
Boots hit tile heavier than before, bringing the outside in with them.
The air shifted with them, cooler, sharper.
Buckshot circled all of them once, getting the pets he deserved, then settled near Sage again, attention split but anchored.
Winter didn’t waste time.
“Sorry to break up this quiet, intimate little moment y’all got going, but we got another lead,” he said, already pulling his phone up, something on the screen catching the light as he turned it toward Law and Sage. “Traffic cams picked up Monica Halster driving a vehicle exiting the main highway.”
“Exact location?”
“Not yet, but she headed east. She probably lives not far from this neighborhood. I bet her kids go to a local school somewhere close.”
Winter was talking about the woman in the photos.
They’d managed to get her name, but not much else.
What they did know was she mattered to both Rook and Cain—there were too many photos of the three of them together for it to be anything else.
As far as they could tell, she was an innocent, but she was also the only solid lead they had on finding Rook and figuring out what the fuck was going on.
Micah wandered over to the counter and helped himself to coffee while Boston jumped lightly up to sit on the edge of the island bar.
Law’s eyes moved over the details on Winter’s phone, the image showing the suspected vehicle leaving the highway.
The glow from the screen reflected faintly in the glass of the cabinets.
The light flickered slightly as it shifted in his hand.
“Why can’t we trace that vehicle?” Law frowned.
“Older model Mercedes,” Sage said. “No onboard tracking.”
“Plates?” he asked.
Winter shook his head once. “Not visible. But it’s the first real lead we have.”
That was true, and Law couldn’t fault them for that. It had taken only hours to arrange a house here in Paradise Valley, so in reality, they were ahead of the curve in finding Rook.
Memphis leaned a shoulder into the doorjamb leading to the living room, glancing at the plates still sitting out on the counter, half-eaten food. “We interrupt breakfast?”
“Yeah, you are,” Sage said, smirking.
Black didn’t say anything, just watched Sage for a second longer than he needed to, then shifted his attention back to Law.
His gaze lingered a fraction longer before it moved.
“Looks like we’ve interrupted more than that,” Winter snorted.
“Yeah, you did,” Sage said again.
Memphis cackled. “Not hiding anymore, are we?”
“Nope.” Sage ate the last bite of sausage and stood.
No hesitation.
Law was a bit speechless about how easily Sage had acknowledged them.
Sage had changed.
Completely.
And Law wasn’t going to let him go back.
Something about it didn’t sit right.
Law’s phone rang.
The vibration buzzed low against the counter before he picked it up.
It rattled once against the surface before he stilled it.
He glanced, answered, and then shot a glance at Sage.
“Yeah, he shut off his phone. One sec,” Law said, flipping it to speaker. “Go ahead, Viper.”
“We have another body. Unidentified female at the residence of an assassin on the list. Rook Jones.”
Sage frowned. “Any sign of Rook?”
“Not that local PD can tell. I need you on scene, Sage—see if you can get an ID.”
Law shook his head before he could stop himself, but Sage was already nodding.
“Yeah, I can do that.”
The line went dead.
Law pushed off the counter and followed Sage down the hall, catching him at the doorway to the back bedroom.
The house felt different again, tighter now, the quiet gone for good.
The space pressed in without the earlier ease.
“I don’t like you going alone.”
Sage smirked. “I won’t be. Micah and Boston are going with me.”
“Still…” Law said, rougher than he meant it.
Sage smiled. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”