Not confused.
Reading something that Law couldn’t see.
“No internet.”
Law’s focus settled fully on the screen, the rest of the room falling away without effort. He’d learned early—trust the one who saw it first.
His breathing leveled out, slower now, without thought.
“What do you think?”
Sage didn’t look over, just flipped his laptop around. “Here.” He pointed to an app on the screen.
“We just lost comms.”
It didn’t hit loud. Just…shifted things.
Law flipped a gaze to the room where the men gathered. Someone’s phone screen blinked out, casting a brief wash oflight across their face before dropping to black. The low thread of conversation thinned, the room pulling in on itself.
The space felt tighter, pressure building without anything visible to explain it.
Black’s head snapped toward the door.
A chair leg scraped once—too loud in the quiet.
Overhead, the lights flickered once.
A soft electrical tick followed.
Came back steady. Too quick.
That flicker got the attention of every man in the room.
“Where’s Micah?” Black charged to his feet.
“He went to the concierge down the hall.” Boston leaped up, but before he could rush toward the door, Rip caught hold of him.
“Stay put,” Rip growled low.
Boston glared up at him.
Black checked the clip in his Ruger and slammed it home. Striding toward the door, he kept his gun in his hand.
His pace didn’t break—too direct, too exposed.
“Black,” Law said.
“I’m going for him.”
“Watch your back,” he said with a nod.
Law didn’t try to stop him. Not now.
Just then, the door opened, and Micah appeared with an arm full of snacks. His dark eyes took them in.
“What’d I do?” he said as if half joking.
Black reached out and yanked him into his arms, snacks and all. Tight, fast, just standing silent. Relief buried in the grip.
