Chapter 6
Knox
He could feel Dominic’s eyes on him as he stepped away from the quiet corner and into the pulse of the casino floor.
Every time he thought about turning around, he felt the weight of Dominic’s stare on his back.
It sat between his shoulder blades like a physical thing, urging him forward whether he wanted it to or not.
He forced himself to walk like he belonged here, threading through the crowd with more confidence than he felt, passing cocktail servers balancing trays and men clustered around blackjack tables. He told himself to breathe and keep his head down.
Just do the job and get out.
The man near the bathroom was older, maybe mid-fifties. Thick through the shoulders, heavy in a way that suggested he didn’t need to move fast to be dangerous. He leaned against the wall like he’d been there for hours.
Knox slowed before approaching, just long enough for the adrenaline to burn away the nerves and leave resolve behind.
The man’s gaze moved over him. “You’re new.”
Knox forced a casual shrug, ignoring the sweat gathering in his palms. “You got something for me?”
A beat passed. Then the guy reached into his jacket and handed him an envelope, small and unremarkable, but somehow heavy in Knox’s palm.
“You know where to go?” the man asked.
“Yeah,” Knox said. The lie came easily, even though he still needed to check his phone for the address the moment he stepped outside.
The man said nothing else as Knox slipped the envelope inside his pocket. He was aware of how exposed he was, how visible. It prickled along his skin, but he held it together, gave a short nod, and turned away before the moment stretched too long.
He cut back through the crowd, pulse climbing, every sense dialed too high. It wasn’t just nerves but a bright, dangerous energy—an aliveness he’d almost forgotten.
He’d spent so long existing in survival mode: working, sleeping badly, dealing with his mother, repeating the same narrow cycle until numbness became normal.
This was different. This felt like standing too close to the edge and realizing he wanted to lean in. If he was honest with himself, the only time he had felt anything remotely similar had been in Dominic’s presence.
That thought alone should have concerned him more than it did.
He pushed through the side exit and stepped into the night. Cool air hit his skin. He stopped beneath the awning, pulling out his phone to check the address Dominic had sent.
Two miles. Close enough to walk.
He set off, shoes echoing on the pavement, the envelope pressed tight against his ribs. The further he got from the casino, the quieter the city became. The bright noise gave way to empty sidewalks and stretches of shadow, leaving far too much room for his thoughts to catch up.
The house sat near the end of a tired row of homes, its paint peeling, and a porch light flickering weakly overhead like it couldn’t decide whether to stay on.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps. This is a mistake. The thought made his stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. He didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong in any of this. He could still walk away, turn around, pretend he never came—
But the thought dissolved almost as quickly as it formed. That was no longer true. That version of his life had ended the moment Dominic had spotted him in that alley.
Knox dragged in a breath that failed to fill his lungs properly and climbed the porch steps, each board creaking under his weight. When he knocked, his knuckles felt stiff with tension.
A few seconds later, the door cracked open.
A man filled the frame, broad enough to block most of the light behind him.
His expression was wary, suspicion settling into every line of his face before a word had even been exchanged.
Another figure lingered deeper inside, half-hidden in shadow.
Neither of them looked like men who welcomed unexpected visitors.
“Yeah?” the larger man asked.
Knox swallowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. “I’ve got a delivery.”
The man’s eyes dropped briefly to the envelope pinched between Knox’s fingers, then returned to his face. “From who?”
“Dominic Rivera.”
The expression on the man’s face didn’t soften, but he stepped back just enough to clear the doorway. “Get in.”
The door suddenly felt less like an invitation and more like a trap waiting to spring shut behind him. Every instinct told him not to do this, not to walk willingly into a stranger’s house carrying God knew what for a man who had already proven he was capable of murder.
But then another thought pushed through the panic. If Dominic wanted him dead, he could have handled that himself. That meant stepping through this door was dangerous, but probably not fatal.
The thought settled him enough to make himself step over the threshold. The door slammed shut behind him with enough force to make him flinch. The air inside was stale, carrying the smell of fried food and old beer.
Only then did the second man move, circling past Knox before settling near the door in a posture that looked casual until Knox realized what he’d done.
Blocked the exit.
Knox’s hands twitched before he forced them still.
The bigger man took the envelope from his hand, turning it over once before opening it. His attention remained on the contents. “Rivera usually sends someone else.”
Knox kept his face neutral, though his nerves were beginning to hum violently beneath his skin. “Maybe he thought you could handle a change.”
The man gave no visible reaction. Knox became hyperaware of the room around him—the faint murmur of a television somewhere deeper in the house, the sound of his own breathing, louder than he wanted it to be.
Suddenly, the man by the door moved. A hand slammed into Knox’s shoulder hard enough to shove him off balance, his heel catching awkwardly before he could recover. A second later, something cold pressed against his ribs.
Knox went completely still. His breath locked high in his chest.
“I don’t trust you,” the man behind him muttered.
Knox’s heartbeat slammed painfully against his ribs, everything screaming at him to move, twist away, do something—but there was nowhere to go.
The larger man still stood directly in front of him.
And the pressure at his side made it painfully clear how quickly this could end if he made the wrong move.
“Easy,” the bigger man said, barely glancing up from the envelope, as though Knox having a gun pressed into his side was little more than routine.
The pressure increased slightly. A warning. Knox forced himself to breathe, shallow and controlled. “I’m just here to deliver,” he said.
No one answered.
Seconds dragged.
Then the larger man finally looked up. “You got a name?”
Knox swallowed against the dryness in his throat. “Knox.”
The man beside him shifted, the weapon still there, his breath brushing the side of Knox’s neck.
The envelope snapped shut. “Tell Rivera it’s done.”
The pressure at Knox’s side vanished. He didn’t react to it immediately. Didn’t move. Didn’t show the relief that hit him hard enough to make him feel dizzy. “Yeah,” he managed, though his voice came out rougher than intended. “I will.”
The man by the door stepped aside enough to let him pass. That was all the invitation he was going to get. He kept his pace measured as he walked out, resisting the urge to bolt until the front door shut behind him and the night air hit his face.
He made it halfway down the block before his body betrayed him. The adrenaline came crashing through him all at once. His hands started to shake uncontrollably, the tremors running up his arms as his body finally released the tension it had been holding too tight.
A breath escaped him that almost sounded like laughter. Or maybe hysteria. He dragged a hand through his hair, fingers trembling, trying to pull himself back together.
He’d done it. He hadn’t frozen or panicked. Hadn’t given them any reason to doubt him. He had walked into a stranger’s house, held himself together with a gun pressed into his ribs, and walked back out in one piece.
Whatever Dominic wanted from him next, he knew he could face it.
* * *
He didn’t go home. He wasn’t even sure he could, not with adrenaline still tearing through his system, and every streetlight feeling like it was a spotlight just for him.
The safest option felt obvious: go back to the casino, find Dominic, and let him know the job was done.
The place had grown busier while he was gone, but he spotted Dominic almost right away. He sat near the back in one of the private gaming areas, half-shadowed beneath low amber light, surrounded by men he wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.
Dominic looked at ease, leaning back in his chair, one hand resting near his drink as one of the men spoke. The faint smile might have fooled someone else, but Knox didn’t miss the way his attention tracked everything in the room.
When his gaze landed on Knox, the smile disappeared. It was replaced by that unsettling focus Knox had felt before—the kind that made it seem as though everything else in the room had ceased to matter.
Knox froze under the weight of it. The noise around him seemed to recede, the movement of the casino blurring into the background. All he could feel was the force of Dominic’s attention, burning hotter than anything else in the room. He felt irrationally flustered, but he couldn’t look away.
Dominic held his eyes for a moment longer before giving the smallest nod. A silent order to approach the table.
The walk over felt longer than it should’ve. The other men noticed him now, their attention sliding over him one by one. The man to Dominic’s left looked unimpressed. Another regarded him with a lazy sort of menace, as if measuring how much trouble Knox could be.
Dominic’s attention didn’t waver. “It’s done?”
Knox nodded. “Yeah. Delivery made.”
Dominic said nothing. The silence stretched long enough to make Knox wonder if he was expected to say more, explain himself, justify something.