And right there with it—
Sage.
Close.
Something in Law settled around that, even as everything else started moving.
Not something he questioned—just something he held onto.
“We’ll pick this up later,” he said, quieter now.
Sage glanced at him, head tipped slightly. “Yes, we will.”
That pulled the faintest hint of a smile from Law.
He stayed a second longer than he needed to.
Long enough for it to matter.
Then he stepped away.
One day later…
Sage hit the alley at a full sprint.
Cold air burned his lungs, sharp, his boots slamming hard against uneven pavement as he drove forward. Noise snapped around him—footsteps, breath, someone shouting behind him—but it all blurred at the edges.
Focus locked ahead.
Movement.
There—
A figure cut hard through the shadows, fast enough to disappear between one blink and the next.
Too smooth. Too controlled.
Familiar.
“Left,” he snapped, already adjusting.
He didn’t wait to see who followed.
They would.
They always did.
Sage took the turn tight, shoulder brushing brick, barely feeling it as he pushed harder. The alley narrowed, cluttered—dumpster, broken pallet, spill of trash—and he threaded through it without slowing.
The guy ahead didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t stumble.
That registered.
“Two exits,” Sage called, breath steady, mind already mapping. “One dead, one open.”
Bootsteps thundered behind him—closer now.
