Chapter Twenty-Five
Later that evening…
Time had dragged through the afternoon and into the evening. Damn, he was bone weary. His shoulders carried it, heavy and unrelenting.
Sage lifted his gaze from the coffee cup in his hands—the heat long gone. It left a dull, stale taste at the back of his tongue. He looked to where Law sat beside him.
Broad shoulders, steady and unmoving.
Those whiskey-colored eyes moved slowly, catching everything without looking like he was trying.
Close—protective, steady, impossible to ignore. Close enough to feel the heat of him.
Law had come for him.
His team was right. They were definitely a thing.
There was no denying it.
Sage’s pulse kicked once, hard, and he searched for something to say.
“A far cry from the Fourth, huh?” He grimaced.
“Hey.” Law’s mouth tipped into a faint smile that made Sage want to kiss him. “We’ll have more Fourths.”
“Yeah?” He smiled.
“Yeah.” Law’s eyes held his.
The doors to the surgical waiting area pushed open, dragging Sage’s gaze away from him.
The air carried that sterile edge that never quite faded.
Conversation stalled for a beat. Even the nurses behind the glass stilled for half a beat before the quiet titter started—low, not quite subtle as the space filled all at once.
Black came through first—dark, fluid, moving like a panther slipping into a space it already owned. Lethal without trying.
Behind him, Rip filled the doorway—big, powerful, his presence alone shifted the room again—and Boston slipped in at his side, lighter, sharper, eyes already moving, taking everything in.
Sage set the cup down without looking away.
Micah stepped in behind them, all long lines and quiet tension, willowy but wired tight—his focus snapping straight to Sage.
Black’s attention flicked once—Micah, quick check, no visible injuries—then shifted to Law.
Micah stepped around the group and held out a wrapped sandwich to Sage. “Got you something from the cafeteria.”
“Thanks.” Sage shot a glance toward Ashley. She looked like a ghost. Too still. Too pale.
“And for her too,” Micah said, already moving past him. He walked over and quietly offered Ashley a hot drink and a wrapped sandwich.
She looked startled for a moment, then gently took them.
“You got here quick,” Law said, flicking his gaze to Black.
“Yeah. I left right after you. When Rip called me, I had Winter and Memphis close up Vegas and meet us here.”
“Where’s Buckshot?” Sage asked.
“Winter’s dropping him off with Ace and Jacob up in Ojai. We can pick him up on our way home.”
Sage couldn’t have picked a better couple to watch his baby. They also had an older golden retriever Buckshot could play with.
“Thank you.”
Black nodded and glanced toward the surgery doors. “Rook still in surgery?”
“Yeah.”
Micah came over and dropped into the seat beside Sage.
The rest of the team converged around him, Law, and Ashley—closing in just enough to block the view and anything said between them.
Space tightened around them without anyone saying a word.
A few people glanced over, then thought better of it and drifted off, some crossing the room, others leaving altogether.
Genesis and YA had a way about them that made people give them space.
“Rook didn’t kill Jade,” Sage said quietly, pitching his voice for them alone. “Or Cain.”
Black’s brow pulled in slightly. “New player?”
Sage shook his head once.
“Old one.”
Law’s hand found his, fingers lacing through like it was nothing. Warm. Steady.
“How do you know Rook didn’t kill Cain?” Black asked, steady.
Sage’s lips twisted.
“I don’t. Not for a fact.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the surgery doors before coming back. “But I know he didn’t kill Jade.”
“I already filled Sage in,” Law said, voice low but carrying. “I’m telling the rest of you now—Savage will take over here at the hospital. We’re moving to a suite to plan the next steps.”
He kept it general, nothing in it that would catch if someone nearby was listening.
Boston started to speak—question already there—but stopped when Law cut him a look.
“We leave as soon as Savage gets here.”
They came in quietly, not like Genesis and YA had, but blending into a background that wasn’t meant to blend into.
First Wrath appeared, then Echo, and lastly Fisher. No wasted movement. No sound where there didn’t need to be. Savage came in last, Thane at his side.
Sage had met the assassins a few times before at Dave’s place, so he knew the faces.
He also knew how they moved, how they worked.
He’d thought Genesis was untamed, but these bastards?
They were on a different level entirely.
Erebus—darkness. Shadow. Aptly named.
“Ashley?” Savage said gently.
“Yes.” She tipped her chin.
Sage smirked. Ashley wasn’t just an ordinary girl—they’d worked side by side growing up. She knew her way around weapons, blades, and death.
Assassins meet assassins.
Ashley turned from Savage to him and glared. “I don’t need a keeper.”
“So says the woman who was tied to a chair,” Sage smirked.
She flipped him off.
He got up and crouched in front of her chair, taking her hands in his. She felt lighter than she should have.
“Just do me this one favor. Let them help. You know how many people your brother has at his disposal.”
She held his eyes. “He shot Rook.” Her gaze turned fierce. “You better k—” She cut off the word and glanced at the family huddled in the corner.
He knew what she’d been going to say.
You better kill him.
“I will.”